'What was your favourite holiday as a child and how did you celebrate it?'
The journey from Glen Waverley took several hours and usually meant starting off early in the dark hours of the morning with us kids still in pyjamas and half asleep to continue snoozing until our hunger and the winding roads jolted us fully awake. “Are we there yet?”
The lodge was impressive with an unusually high front door reached by a long flight of steps; annoying for hauling luggage inside but understandable (and mind-boggling) when it was explained that the snow was often deep enough in winter to cover them completely. This explanation was backed up when we later found the ski lifts. It was difficult to imagine the depth of snow that came each year and how it would transform the area; but that was for others to experience as we never visited in winter.
Lazing around under the dappled shade of the Snow Gums on hot days, if I was quiet and patient, a skink or two would appear. Sleek little reptiles, tongues flicking and eyes darting nervously to check out any dangers. It would bask in the sunlight until a sound, a movement or some subtle change sent them scurrying back under their rock or into the leaf litter. However, it wouldn’t take long, if no danger presented, before the little lizard would again appear to sunbake on a rock, so fine and delicate that I could see the rising and falling as it breathed. If my sisters were about, my brother and I would try to catch them, partly to show how quick and brave we were, partly to terrorise our sisters. I learnt that you couldn’t catch them by the tail as they would sacrifice their tail to escape – I found that was appalling and didn’t do it more than the once.
I remember one day we found a creek that spilled down over rocks, creating tiny waterfalls, interesting nooks and crannies, and a challenging set of stepping stones enticing us to venture down under the trees and between the boulders and ferns to discover where the stream went. Occasionally the water would pool in a small dam before trickling once more over the rocks to continue its way downhill. When we became hungry and decided to end this adventure, we discovered that the journey home was not quite so much fun as it involved a steep climb, a much harder task from which we emerged hotter and hungrier.
Although most of our activities were unstructured explorations around the mostly empty village, I remember once going kayaking on nearby Rocky Valley Dam. The water was freezingly cold, even at the height of summer, which provided extra incentive to avoid capsizing. The water was also astonishingly clear – it was possible to see fish swimming and the stones and crags on the bottom looked close enough to reach out and touch.
One year, the weather was cooler than normal, so much that it began snowing on Christmas day. This was quite a novelty for us. The snow didn’t last long, melting quickly, making the ground moist and muddy whereas we were used to the dry, baked earth of other summers. That year we found a huge snow drift in one of the more sheltered areas and we had a new playground. We had snowball fights, built snowmen, and worked together to try to construct an igloo. I don’t remember complaining about the unseasonal weather, we just took this new situation and enjoyed what was offered.
Somedays we would set off on a walk, except that would be boring so we went ‘hiking’ instead, the only difference being that we each carried a long stick. There were many tracks to follow, and I’m surprised we didn’t get lost as I felt we walked for miles. I have a vivid memory of taking a rest on a hillside that fell away below us, and gazing across the valley to the next mountain, and beyond to another mountain range, which had more mountains behind it – we were on top of the world and the high country was endless.
I have fond memories of those summers at Falls Creek.
October 2023