Sovereign Hill
You never find me at home in the first week of December. I’m up in Ballarat. My grandparents used to take me, way back in the 1950s, for Nana had a particular tie to the town, her grandfather was there, at the barricades, in the bloody days of the Eureka Stockade. I still attend the annual remembrance of the only armed uprising in Australian history. White history, that is. Read the rest of this entry »
Australians have a tradition of spinning yarns. The stories are, of course, all true. Mostly.
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Some reviews, recipes, wildlife, gorgeous places and a general round up of what's going down Downunder
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