Briathrail // Albert 2MNG

I woke up very early for June 25, around 2.30am. The pick-up time was at 5.15am at another hotel within 2km of my hotel (that hotel was too upscale for my budget), so I woke up early. I immediately downed the breakfast items I bought the day before, and once that was done, I hit the shower. I really liked that the hotel I booked here in Melbourne had the same overhead shower as the hotel I booked in Sydney, the only difference is that the one in Melbourne had a more precise cold-hot switching, unlike the one in Sydney where I had to fidget for a bit to get the sweet spot of warmth. After a quick shower, I looked at my pile of layers.

I wore the Top 500 base layer as 1) it was substantially thicker and warmer than Top 100, and I planned the Top 100 for the next day. I was thinking of wearing them both at the same time, but as I judged that the Melbourne winter was no slouch, I had to have a base top layer for the next day’s activity, then I wore a thick cotton-y t-shirt over my base layer. A friend did advise me one thing about my top layering in a winter weather – it doesn’t hurt to have one more layer. The plan is, for my top there will be four layers max – base layer, t-shirt, padded jacket, winter coat. I can adjust at will there. For my coat, I put it in my backpack – for this trip, I opted to use the Mark Ryder backpack as the Quechua backpack wasn’t big enough for the coat. I also put in a water bottle just in case.

I wore the 500-brand thermal layer for my bottom as well, leaving the 100-brand for the next day. I still wore my jeans, but I also wore the ski winter pants over it. I wore the ski socks and wore ankle protectors over them to add some more padding. Man, I felt insulated after all that. I opted to keep the cap in the room, and instead wore the beanie.

After a cursory check of all my things, I was out of the hotel by 4am. I knew the layers worked because man, I still remember the raw chill that I felt when I ventured out of Sydney a few days ago for an early morning trip, the chill was biting. I was feverish and hot but I still felt the great chill. Now, even if it was even colder in Melbourne, I felt downright cozy. My breath was still smoking from the chill, but I felt warm, so that worked. The meetup place for the trip bus was at 42 Russell Street – basically in front of the eagle sculpture at the Grand Hyatt, at 5.15am. I had lots of time to cover a walking distance that’s a bit short of 2km. So I made it for myself to enjoy the early morning atmosphere while waking towards the meetup area. No rush, just a leisurely walk.

Walking there, I was reminded of the claim my friend had about Sydney and Melbourne – Sydney’s closer to London and New York in look, while Melbourne’s closer to the European look. Walking the streets there sure made that hard not to notice. As I was a tourist, I also made sure to obey the traffic crossing lights, even if no one is looking. Not that much so for integrity, more so for I have no idea of their enforcement of traffic laws, maybe there’s a monitoring camera somewhere. Hey, better safe than sorry.

Pretty soon, I was in front of the meetup area. Not even 5am yet. But many folks were there already, so I assumed those were my tripmates. The bus wasn’t there yet. One glance of all the people gathered there at that small area made it clear that I made the right choice to layer up well too – almost all of them were kitted well. And yeah, I facepalmed myself for forgetting a scarf again. I had that at my agenda yesterday when I landed at Tullamarine, but for some inane reason it slipped my mind.

The bus came right on time, and the driver started to check our names and bookings. When I looked at his ledger, only three of us in his 20-man group were of non-Chinese descent. It was easy to tell as I saw that there were only three names in it that were only in alphabet letters, the rest were in the format of “English printed name / Chinese printed name”. The driver checked me in, and I settled into the tour bus. It was roomy, warm and all of us could take two seats each and still have a few rows unoccupied. As it was warm, I felt I could take one of my upper layers off. I removed the padded jacket then. I started to feel a bit of chill but it was a comfortable chill, no issue. After 5 minutes of waiting for any stragglers and self-important latecomers (which none came, thank heavens), the bus driver then came up the bus and started telling us what the trip is and what they can expect from this booked service. He started the talk in English, and it was brief but concise. Given his thick Aussie English accent, he clearly was a fluent bilingual man. He then segued to the Chinese tourmates and spoke Mandarin as fluently as most I’ve heard in Singapore and Taiwan.

From what I gathered, these are the basics of what he spoke of:

• There are no “tour guides”, he is there merely to facilitate our travel from Melbourne CBD to Mount Buller. I think he started with that because (probably) some inane dunderhead thought he was the tour guide and left a bad review somewhere. Fine by me – I’ve read their Klook entry descriptions word for word.
  
• There will be two other stops – at “Whitehorse Road in Box Hill”, and a bit after at “Railway Parade North”, basically there’s potentially more tourmates onboarding from that location. Fortunately, only a few came on. Lots of seats anyway.
  
• He informed us that there will be a “toilet break” somewhere in the town of Yea. It’s the universal consideration service given by every tour bus I’ve rode in other countries too, there’s always a toilet break in the middle, and it’s always an appreciated time to just stretch and break up the monotony.
  
• He told us that before we go up the ski resort, he will stop for maybe 30 minutes or so, not for a break but for putting on the bus’ tire chains. I’m familiar with the term because of that Top Gear episode where Hammond was on top of some Canadian Mountain for a staged “rescue”, and Clarkson and May stopped for a bit to put on tire chains on their trucks.
  
• He also told us not to leave any belongings in the bus and we should come out with the same things we carried in. I completely understood, besides it’s a liability and insurance thing.
  
• He asked for those people who have booked snow gear through the same tour agency to talk to him upon disembarking for instructions where to redeem the equipment.

With that done and dusted, he thanked us for listening and he resumed his main job as the tour bus driver. And so we drove on for a bit, stopping by the aforementioned two passenger pit stops, and off we went, away from the CBD.

For me, I settled on my windowside seat and watched as the main city’s vestiges faded away and replaced by meadows, farms, smaller buildings, and wider spaces. I have to admit, this part of touring is half of my personal pleasure derived from the trip. Just sit by the window and see things for the first time.

Back when I was young, my dad often booked our family for a trip up his neck of the woods at Isabela, at a rural area named “Tupax, Jones” – Tupax is the barangay name and Jones is the town name. The town in particular held significance in the 1940’s Japanese invasion and occupation, as its area was conducive enough for military shelter and evacuee settlement, and its dense forests proved a boon to guerrilas and resistance forces. My grandfather served in the military then (and died in battle), and my grandmother remained there, always joyful to see us come by once a year. My father often booked a provincial bus service from Cubao in Manila to Santiago in Isabela, predominantly Baliwag Bus or Victory Liner. As Baliwag had the perfect timeslot – we board by 8pm or so and arrive at Santiago way before noon – dad always booked that one. I spent many summers in those provincial buses looking out the window and swallowing in the sights and scenery, from plain-looking rice fields to dangerous mountain-carved roads. I rarely slept – I always preloaded some strong coffee at home before we went for the bus, and kept mints at hand to stave off the yawns. I always ended up sleeping my ass off when we arrived at the Tupax destination. But the sights I saw during the bus ride were a treat for me, even if it was dark.

And the same went for this bus ride – shorter, yes, but still this is Australia and not PH, so I was fully engaged in looking out the window and seeing scenery after scenery pass us by. I was rapt seeing some places for the first time. Many of my tourmates fell asleep starting from the last passenger pit stop, but not me. The bus was also at a perfect cruising speed on the highway – not too fast, but not slow. Just on time with a generous pee break leeway, methinks. Day wasn’t sunny too, so I was slightly worried it might be rainy at Buller but the forecasts and sky predictions and satellite imagery (yes, I’m THAT kind of guy) all said it was just cloudy. I had my fingers crossed the weather guys got it right… because when we got to Yea, it was drizzling.

The bus driver told us over the bus speakers that we are to take a 20-minute pee break at the town called Yea, specifically beside the Yea Railway Station. To its left was a small toilet shed and to its south was a car park near a church across the street. It was around 7.45am, and everyone was aiming to stretch after nearly three hours of the bus ride. Me, I can go for another three, but a stretch break doesn’t hurt. I put on my padded jacket and went out to check what I can see of Yea. Shame that there was no 7-11 nearby but, oh well. I did my business quickly and started taking a few shots of the surrounding area. And yeah, place is a bit colder than earlier at Melbourne CBD. Maybe it’s the drizzle not helping matters. Also, not a “touristy” area compared to many, it’s like a highway town… if I have to put a comparison for it, it’s like if a town like Leura was transplanted to rural Scotland or something.

After that very brief bladder-vacating stop at Yea, we were again in the bus and off we went. The driver assured us that it would take maybe 2 more hour to drive up the mountain resort, with the next brief stop was for him to fit in the tires’ snow chains. So I settled in the bus seat and tried to sleep for a bit, as 1) I wanted to conserve my phone battery, and 2) the weather was rainy shit.

I did get some sleep. Not easy, but the bus kind of lulled me to sleep. The warmth helped a bit.

By the time we got to Mirimbah part of the Mt Buller Road, some positive and negative things showed up. Positive? Snow. Definite signs of snow. The roadside had signs of snow, which meant that the mountaintop had legit snow. Negative thing that showed up was the road leading to the ski resort – man, it looked downright provincial. Asian provincial, but it’s in Victoria. Guess rural areas get the thrills of cliff roads.

By the time we got to the shuttle bus stop at the lower part (the Horse Hill Day Car Park), the snow was in full effect. I went from 80 to 100% on the thick snow guarantee. It was damn cold. So I put on all my covers and coats I planned for the ski resort – and somehow, it worked. I was warm and toasty on the inside. My gamble not to buy that thick-ass Decathlon snow coat paid off. However, I am still wearing a pair of Asics. I still need snow boots.

When we got to the shuttle bus stop at the upper part near the main entrance, the driver welcomed us to the Mount Buller ski resort via the mic. And once we stopped, he told us the basics – we got there at least 5 minutes before 10am, and we have until 3pm for the return to Melbourne. And this is where I realized only a tad over half of us were here for just a few hours – some of our co-travelers were spending a warm night at one of the nearby hotels, and will go back on the next day’s trip session.

So with trepidation, I ventured outside the bus for my first experience of snow.

And right away, the first thing I did was make a quick beeline for the shop at the lower right of the main entrance sign (for reference, it’s the Buller Sports Central). I meant quick because I was wearing a pair of rubbers, and I had to make quick work of my steps as the snow was a bit thick on the ground and my foot sank an inch on it. Also, slippery. Had to be quick but steady.

Once I got in, I exchanged my printed order for the snow walking boots I preordered via the travel agency that handled the trip. Again, wise decision for me to have had these rented – these were heavy shoes. I just told the good chap handling customers that I wore US size 11, and he got me a perfectly snug pair of boots. Just dandy. Not tight but not loose either.

Next order of business was taking care of the remaining things I need for my very brief time at the ski resort. That was the locker and the toboggan. I ordered a standard locker (it’s itemized as a “eLocker Medium”) for AUD25, and purchased a pass for their toboggan park (you get one of those strong cuttable wristbands like the ones in comic conventions) for AUD25. Just saying for prospective readers – allot AUD50 or so for these two extras.

After I completed those two on-site purchases, I put my bag and rubber shoes in the assigned locker, put on my coat again and ventured out to the resort to see what’s what before I go for the toboggan park. And man, the boots were warm and decent. The ground was thick with snow but my shoes helped immensely – doesn’t slip, and the footprints were kind of charming. However, I had to wear my beanie right away then cover it with the hoodie that came with my jacket. I also re-wore my UA mask – thank God I chose the thick sports one.

I went up the main entrance to at least see the ski lift.

I didn’t go for the ski. First off, most pressing reason I didn’t go for it – I had zero experience. To gain experience, I would have needed to book one of those fancy activities for ski tutorials, and those take at least an hour. I only had at most 4 free hours from 10am to 3pm (I deducted lunch hour) and I was leery of spending a hundred dollars or so just to get something I might not enjoy a lot on that day. I did make one promise to myself to get a proper ski tutorial one day, at least when I get to spend a few days in a ski resort and not a pity few hours of tourism. So I only booked the cheapest no-tutorial-needed active thing left in the resort – tobogganing.

So standing near the ski lifts, I was content just to take pictures and climb a bit on the right side to see things for myself.

Once I got there, the snowfall went from decent to somewhat thick. I couldn’t even see the top of the resort after the second support pole on the ski lift. It was somewhat eerie, like we were on an isolated snow place somewhere.

I went down the main entrance and I had to try some tobogganing before lunch. The resort had two toboggan parks – one was the smaller Village Toboggan Park right near the village square, and the other was Celia’s Toboggan Park right down the mountain near the Northside Express chairlift. Fortunately, the Village Toboggan Park was just near and I didn’t have to do a hike down – and the advisory that day on the ski rental shop said that Celia’s toboggan slope was closed temporarily. So I had only one option, really.

So I got to the tobogganing park, and it was as I thought. We were all the same folks just not that into skiing for now. There was a pair of Filipinos I spotted near the slope, there were a family of whites watching their kids go down the slope, and lots of other families and young adults looking to just go slide.

So before I slid down, I had to do some observing to know the ground rules, as this was my first time.

• Picked a toboggan. Some toboggans were designed for either a child or a small 5-foot Asian man, and some toboggans were designed for either one big American or a pair of adult and child. I picked the big one, as the small ones didn’t agree with my ass. The toboggan has two rope handles – one in front that serves as the de facto steering, and one for maybe the hands of the other person if the sliders were a pair.
• You were expected to sit down with your legs sticking out of the front of the toboggan, acting like your brake. Of course, protecting your legs from, you know, injury is up to you. I observed how the adults sat on theirs, including leg position/angles and how they braked, and I just mimicked. Basically sit like you’re a woman giving birth while sitting down. Best I can describe it. But keep your heels off the snow until it is time to brake or slow down.
• There was a dude (and in shifts, a lady) with a whistle at the bottom, with a headset mic on (and a big loudspeaker at the lower left). Their job is to whistle when to slide down and observe people to take turns going down the slope. No one was to slide down before the whistle blows. No one was to slide out of turn.
• There were lanes there to slide down from. You can only go down those lanes – no free-slide from a weird angle. The lanes kind of formed a small curved path from all the tobogganing, so even kids wouldn’t have any difficulty staying on.
• You are expected to use your legs and boots to soften the slide down the slope – at the bottom, there are safety netting as well as some accumulated snow to act as protection and cushioning the slide impact down. Use the heel to act like a brake. Then go up back at a designated cleaned set of stairs at the left/right sides of the slope, carrying the toboggan with you.
• There is a designated area at the top where you are to either pick your toboggan or deposit the toboggan you used.

So with the ample information gleaned from the activity, I picked a red large one and got on the leftmost lane to slide. I figured that of the six lanes, the middle four would involve more walking to the stairs, whereas the leftmost/rightmost lanes were right next to the stairs.

My first run down was quite nice, actually. Just a few seconds of getting a feel how to get down a slope. I did four runs down, with each try a chance to learn how to slide down and control the rush with the heel of my boots. By the time I finished those, it was 11.40am, and I figured it was time to beat the lunch rush. Time to eat.

I ate at Cattleman’s Cafe, which was near the village entrance as well. I was eyeing the more focused restaurant nearby that has fish and chips as their signature, but as I saw it was full, I tried the shop I saw earlier (Cattleman’s) and as I saw it was only moderately full, I settled with it.

The place had a warm cafe-bistro kind of vibe, as well as an excellent view of the ski chairlift area and see the ski slope out the wide window panes on the right side of the cafe. If anything else, the place was warm, and I immediately found a seat before the lunch rush came in a few minutes later.

As I was craving some fried greasy food after that, I ordered a classic warm meal – fish and chips (again) with a salad on the side, one muffin (I think banana?) and a cider to help with the food. The potato fries were thick, crispy but not bland (aka “well-salted”) and were bountiful. The fish was haddock, outside was crisp but inside was moist – it’s decently done and the batter wasn’t soggy with oil. Salad’s nice, and the cider wasn’t that cold – given the snow, this was completely fine serving temperature. I had an hour, so I spent at least 45 minutes in there, inclusive of waiting for the food and slowly snacking on the fries. And it was more expensive than the Fish and Chippery restaurant nearby. But given the prime location, the ease for me to get a table, and a nice view of the ski slopes, I think the price I paid for the meal (AUD55) was worth it.

After the meal, I just spent my time between windowshopping – the resort had lots of shops to see, including gift shops, of which one I earmarked to return later – and a return to tobogganing. It was fun, and I rode until my knees said no more. OK knee, I’m not keen to test out my FWD travel insurance’s efficacy yet, I’ll listen. I spent a good while at the nice gift shop I found at my first go – George’s Ski Hire – that had a decent corner of their shop for the souvenirs I liked. I bought some Buller-exclusive pins, a t-shirt and some keychains. All this while, I just kept my phone inside my jacket’s internal pockets to recharge – by the time I finished idly eating earlier, my phone was in dire energy need.

By the time it got to 2.30pm, I knew it was time to pack it up. So I got back to the Central store near the entrance to return the ski boots. I retrieved my bag, and went to the Village Square Plaza – it was nearby the parking lot (beside Summit Road) where we got dropped off by the bus driver earlier and where he said he will be back on. Oh yeah, forgot to mention. When I wore back my rubber shoes and worried about how to wade the ground snow, fortunately I found a relatively straghtforward treaded-on snow track from the store to the plaza building made by earlier people that I was able to walk on without the fear of wet shoes.

The place was warm and bustling with people – I assume 3pm was some local knowledge that it was the start time needed to get back to Melbourne on time for dinner. Lots of people clearly waiting for either their pick-up or their mates. There was a vending machine nearby that had lots of ciders, root beers and drinks of what I presume were local brands. I paid for a “Kirks” ginger beer – it was cold and bubbly but strangely warming my insides to the point I had to loosen my upper jacket.

By 2.50pm, our bus driver Rick rolled up (I saved the bus number and his face on my photos) and I boarded the bus and located a seat at the middle area. Fortunately we were not that many people in the return trip so I was able to enjoy the trip with only my bag as my seatmate. Back to Melbourne it was. Rick did warn us in the morning that snow will exhaust us – and he was right. I suddenly felt quite tired. Many on our trip immediately took a nap on the bus. But for me, my excitement and the ginger beer helped to keep me awake.

Some more stray photos of Buller:

The return trip was long – and eventually I did take a short nap. After hours of chill and snow and all that, my body asked for a nap and I had to oblige. After all, I still have something to do later.

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