What we did on our Holidays - Day 2 ...

... we started with an excellent breakfast. A play on the standard "full English" theme. A boiled eggie with dukka, rolled smokey ham, smoked trout, roasted tommies and creamy fetta.
Then down to Daylesford for the morning for a wander around the Convent Gallery. We've been visiting since it first opened (and when it was free, it's a bit cheeky charging a fee to visit what's basically a posh shop - still, I'll bet the upkeep is a killer). We've even got a lovely framed picture of the skinny staircase that leads up to the galleries, on the wall at home, from a past visit.I was tempted by several pieces but didn't end up bringing anything home, probably only because the storm glass wasn't for sale. Buggeration.
The crowning glory are the gardens. And Spring, springing up all over as it was, is one of the best times to visit. Just beautiful. One day, when we will the lottery, I'm going to have a garden like this (assisted by a beautiful gardener) *sighs*.After a splendid "light" lunch in town we set off for our treat atthe extensively renovated Bathhouse and Spa.
The new bit is amazing, we didn't recognise it, but the old bits are still there and remain beautiful.I'm afraid the camera chose this exact point to pack it in, so this is what this picture should look like. The giant, solid stone, pure-mineral-water bath was blissful. "Fuckmethat'shot" mineral water jets out of the frankly ridiculously huge tap and then you push a button and jiggly bubbly water jets all about. I felt a little like a Blancmange, hell, bits of me looked like one!
And the treats (massages, rubdown with brown sugar and gawd knows what else, kumquat jam?) were lovely. I could hear Mr Brown chatting away to his therapist, he learned that although the new facilities are great, the Spa folk didn't get much of a say in the design and so, things aren't perfect. Not that we noticed, Philistines that we are. After bit of a walk around the surrounds (more blackberry pics, sorry)where we reminisced about past picnics (and my seductive salmon picnic pie) we ambled back tothe hotel to de-spa-ify our hair, pop on some posh clothing and head out for more fine dining.
This time at the Lake House, where I had to fight the temptation to steal the Don Wreford glass salt pot.
I'm glad to say the best-fed kookaburras in Australia are still in residence, including the fellow with the broken beak, Mr Brown's favourite.
Dinner? Smoked eel paired with beetroot, Tuna Carpaccio, Duck (x2), washed down with Summerfield Merlot. Bliss.