Oh, we in Cactus Country now, girls!

Hello again, Jarrod and apologies for being incommunicado so long. It feels like ages and aaaaaaaaaaages since I’ve done something for the blog. But I’m back, with something a little different this week: a visit to Cactus Country! Not sure how I am going to fare selling this to you, tbh. I tell you I’m going and send you a picture, and you initially respond “Yeah Ok” which seems encouraging, but it’s quickly apparent that I have missed the sarcastic subtext because you follow up with “Riveting. What ya spose to do, walk around looking at the cactuses? Wow.” Followed by the thumbs down emoji. But I am undeterred. I love a challenge.

Now, Melbourne is a great city and all, but once in a while, I long for visual stimulation in the form of something other than smashed avocado on toast and lattes. When I stumble upon images of Cactus Country researching things to do in the Murray Valley, I become transfixed and ever so slightly obsessed with seeing it for myself. Thousands and thousands of cacti and succulents from North America, Mexico, South America and Africa. It looks positively other worldly.

Not exactly your garden variety eucalypts.

I’ve always had an affinity with cacti. I mention this to a ‘friend’ in the lead up to the weekend and she nods and says ‘hmmmm, I get it, because you’re a little bit prickly and don’t like to be touched.’ Hurtful. Actually it’s because like cacti, I can survive on very little water. I put out a call for a spontaneous road trip, and comedy buddies Gabe and Morven volunteer. Strathmerton is about 250km north of Melbourne, probably just a fraction too far to drive for a day, so we split the bill for a motel room for the night ($35 each) and decide to make a weekend away of it. Country motel, and country pub dinner. Chicken Parmigiana MANDATORY.

We are blessed with gorgeous weather on the day we set off, so we pack our bathers as well, pretty excited about the prospect of sunset swimming in the Murray at Ulupna Island, just near where we are staying. We casually mention this plan to the lovely man on the at reception desk at the Gazebo Inn. He’s given us solid advice so far: where to get the best steak sandwich in town (apparently so good that he once ate them seven days straight! Seven days of steak sandwiches!) So we figure he’ll steer us to the best swimming spot.

Turns out we are possibly the only three Victorians who have missed the news blitz all summer (and indeed the signage he alleges is ‘all the way along the Hume Highway’) that there is currently an outbreak of blue green algae in the river and you most definitely CANNOT swim in it. Can it make you sick? I ask. He looks at me with an expression I’m all too familiar with–abject bewilderment as to how I survive on a daily basis in the absence of any street smarts or common sense, and informs us that it can be fatal. So, no swimming then.

That’s but a blip in weekend plans. After all we came for Cactus Country! It’s only a few kilometres from the motel and we are both excited and slightly confused when this sign assures us we are on the right path.

The horse is smiling, but his eyes appear to be silently screaming

Half way to Mexico? I guess we could be half way to Mexico if we had started our journey somewhere on the other side of the globe? I’m also hoping this is a rare and therapeutic cactus with spikes like little acupuncture needles that feel quite nice really, and help with the flow of your chi, and that’s why the horse is smiling as opposed to yowling in agony.

Cactus Country is open every day of the week from 9 till 5 and tickets for adults are only $12.50. There is a cafe on site serving Mexican food and most importantly, cactus cake (made with the fruit of the cactus – delicious and highly recommended!) It’s the brainchild and labour of love for a couple named Jim and Julie. Jim purchased a large collection of cacti from his father in 1979 and they’ve built on their collection since then, gradually planting, propagating and expanding.

I don’t think you can call it a mere collection any more; it now occupies a 10 acre site. It’s probably more a cactus empire.

We realise we have made a rookie error on arrival: recommended footwear.

Uh-oh.

So. The Havianas were a mistake then. And not just because of the shocking pedicure

(See earlier paragraph re absence of common sense).

Thankfully they have gigantic sombreros on offer as you enter, so we don them because a) they are a quirky photo op and b) I know from watching Trinny and Susannah that elaborate headpieces of any sort draw the eyes upward, which will hopefully stop other visitors from noticing our thongs.

This is a Halfie. A selfie where your enormous hat occupies most of the frame.

Sadly we only manage to wear the sombreros for about ten minutes because man, they are really, really, really heavy. Observe how I am bowed in the middle in the next photo, as though my knees and spine are literally giving way.

(Actually am just making sure you can read the sign behind me!)

Next time you see a Mariachi band play, please tip them handsomely because if they’re wearing those hats for hours, their chiropractic fees must be enormous.

In fact, I would go so far as to say, the sombreros are so heavy, I don’t think this is a wee statue next to a cactus at all.

A cautionary tale for parents.

I think it’s a small child who came to visit Cactus Country, collapsed under the weight of his hat and has fossilised, in conveniently artistic fashion against one of the plants.

The sun is low in the afternoon as we amble around, lending the cacti some rather flattering backlighting, and it’s just beautiful.

Actually Jarrod, yes, you do wander around looking at the cacti and it’s LOVELY

We are armed with comprehensive maps that have information on all the different species and Morven takes on the role of informal tour guide, while Gabe takes on the role of six year old child who cannot resist touching the spikes of the fruit to see just how sharp they really are and is somehow surprised when they lodge in her fingers. And I distractedly snap photo after photo after photo. It’s just gorgeous.

A garden path you want to be led up.

Pretty as a picture

I should stress, this is probably not the location for you if you have small children who like to run and are clumsy/prone to falls. If you find your breath catching in your throat when your toddler waddles to close to a coffee table with a sharp corner, this is not the place for you. You will find it very stressful. We see one family with an enthusiastic three year old and they are clustered around him, hurriedly ushering him along like secret service agents who have heard gunfire.

There are fuzzy cacti (of COURSE we all touch those, they look like irresistible soft toys, why wouldn’t you? They are soft, but there are little spikes underneath if you exert any pressure)

Gentle, gentle, OW!

Flowering cacti:

Flowers with built in defence against plucking

Cacti that look like alien creatures–

Would not be at all surprised if it began to pulsate or scuttled away…

There are even cacti in fancy dress. This species is actually called The Old Men Of The Andes, hence the garb.

But seriously, their eyes seem to follow you wherever you go.

Some of the cacti grow in a frantic cock-forest like cluster:

We call this installation ‘Melbourne Comedy Scene’

Fortunately it’s not until we are talking with Julie afterwards that we ask if any tourists have ever fallen into the garden beds. She reveals that it has happened once. A poor lady who was lining up a photo, couldn’t fit everything she wanted into the frame and went to step backwards a bit, tripped on a rock and fell right back impaling her legs on one of the spiky ball like creations. Her friends had to take her into the toilets and painstakingly pull hundreds of needles out of her jeans. Ow. I swear had I heard that tale before going in, I would have somehow worried it into fruition.

We easily lose a few hours wandering round, and after obligatory photos in the face hole models on site:

Gabe and her ET Belly

we drive to the Murray to catch the sunset and stare longingly at the water we cannot swim in.

Beautiful but deadly

Then it’s off to the Strathie Pub for a parma dinner. Very. Very good.

We do make one more pitstop before heading back to Melbourne in the morning, a small detour to have breakfast at The Giant Strawberry.

And the waitress suggested I could share this with the others hahahahahahahahaha

All manner of strawberry related goodness on offer: pancakes filled with strawberries, and home made strawberry ice cream and cream. They also sell jams, chutneys, and strawberry wine. I toy momentarily with the idea of buying a bottle of strawberry wine, but decide it sounds like a recipe for the following scene:

Megan (sipping from glass): mmm…..This could be dangerous, you can’t even taste the alcohol! Cut to: vomiting, passing out and a hangover the next day so severe, cannot even keep water down till after 5pm.

All in all we had a brilliant weekend seeing Strathmerton and visiting Cactus Country and I’d highly recommend a visit! But as always I’m going to throw it over to you and the readers. Cactus Country in the Murray Valley, Jarrod, would you go there?