The alarm was set to sound at 9:00AM this morning, so it was with some surprise that my watch already read 9:10AM when I awoke from my slumber, no sign of the alarm that had been meant to awaken us. I jumped up, somewhat disorientated as to the failure of our claxon. I checked my phone, which is what we put to use as an alarm, only to find it powerless. This was strange as it had been on charge overnight, or so I had thought.

When I checked the power adaptor into which it was plugged, the adaptor was dead. Confirmation of this discovery came as I rushed about the van, plugging it into every power point I could get to.

Thankful that we had at least woken up at about the right time, we quickly gathered ourselves together, ready for a day out, in the hills of Adelaide. Figuring it was going to be a rather big day, we were taking the dogs along for the ride today, so we all bundled into ‘The Beast’ and by 9:45AM we were on the road, my phone sucking on power from the point in the dash.

As we motored along the traffic clogged feeder roads around the outskirts of Adelaide, I tried powering up my phone. Still nothing. Dead. No sounds. No lights. Absolutely nothing. I continued to drive, falling into a dismally sullen mood, trying to figure out how much information was saved on the phone, that I would now have to try and recover, not to mention how I would survive for the next couple of weeks until we return home, without any access to my phone.

By the time we reached our first stop in the Adelaide Hills at Hahndorf, I had worked myself up to a furious fervor about the phone. I was relieved to some extent that it ought still be covered by warranty and if not by insurance, so I buried the useless piece of rubbish in the depths of the centre console in ‘The Beast’, relegated it to a bad memory as I strove to have a fun day out.

Hahndorf is a quaint village in the midst of the Adelaide Hills, which is much adored by visitors and locals alike for its German heritage. The town plays on this fact openly, with many German influenced bakeries, pubs, small goods stores and gift shops including a couple that specialise in very continental cuckoo clocks. Not just a window into German culture, various artisan shops abound along the main street as well, many housed in original cottages dating back to the 1840s.

Some of the…

…views in the…

…main street…

…of Hahndorf.

We left the dogs to guard ‘The Beast’ while we walked from one end of the lengthy main street to the other and back. Lunch was to consist of genuine giant German bratwurst sausages, but we came to a bakery selling a delectable choice of sweet treats. It was still too early for lunch, so instead we decided to stop for a little morning tea. Before we knew it, we were struggling our way through slabs of vanilla slice and cream and jam filled doughnuts, while sipping on thick, sickly sweet hot chocolates, made from rich lashings of melted chocolate. Lunch plans I think pretty much went out the window as our stomachs struggled to contain our morning tea.

That’s not all mine.

But this is.

Thankfully, by the time we were done at Hahndorf, I think we would have well and truly walked off any excess calories though as we continued to stride slowly along the main street, taking in all that there was to see. From the quaint to the quirky, there really was something for everyone. I most enjoyed the very Australian leather smiths shop, walls and racks overflowing with handcrafted leather belts and accouterments. An open fire was crackling away in the hearth, smoke filling the shop with a delicious, if choking, scent of burnt timber while between the goods on display, funny handwritten quotes adorned the walls. An age was also spent in the opal shop, where Bec agonised over whether or not to buy a pair of opal earrings. As at Coober Pedy, she decided that she didn’t need them after all.  I have no doubt that she will now wait until we get home before she changes her mind and then ruminates about her decision not to purchase anything. I can see another trip to Coober Pedy in our future!

By the time we finally strolled back to ‘The Beast’, we’d been 3 ½ hours walking about, which didn’t leave us a whole lot of time to take in the other attractions of the Adelaide Hills we’d been planning to see. Not to mention, by this time we were already feeling rather worn out. Continue we must though, so after taking the dogs, who had been very well behaved, cooped up beneath the canopy in the tub of ‘The Beast’ all day, for a bit of a walk, we mounted up and headed out again.

Our next couple of stops were just quick ones at a nearby jam factory, then a bespoke cordial manufacturer before we found ourselves driving through the little town of Woodside, where we happened across a couple of endearing antiquities dealers. Like all good antique stores, they were crammed to overflowing full of old wares, vintage clothing, fragile books and rusty tools.

By the time we had finished trawling through the antiques, it was a rush to make it to our final two attractions. We ended up missing out on the cheese factory by only a few minutes, although we did make it to the Melba Chocolate Factory, where a central hall was filled with deliciously sweet treats, while little rooms around the side held the actual chocolate making rooms, where like a scene from Willy Wonka, workers in traditional factory uniform were busy creating all manner of chocolaty delicacies.

Despite our weariness by this stage of the day, I had come across a phone shop that was only a short detour from our intended route along the scenic drive home from the hills. This, we possibly should have put off until tomorrow, as Bec was already feeling sore and tired from having been on her feet all day, but I was determined to give someone some feedback about exactly what I thought about my phone.

The closer we got to the shopping centre, the more irate I became again at what I had decided was the culpability of the phone provider. I had visions of arguing the point and demanding a new phone and berating loudly whoever it was that had the pleasure of dealing with me.

Storming into the store, I thrust the lifeless phone at the guy behind the counter and explained my predicament. He kindly took it from me, fiddled with a couple of buttons, at which time the penny dropped. So immersed in the thought that the phone was beyond repair had I been, I hadn’t even considered trying to reboot it. Mentally slapping myself across the back of the head, I embarrassingly retrieved my resurrected phone, amongst a profusion of thanks as I left the store, glad I hadn’t launched into the tirade I had been practicing in my head all afternoon.

Since we were now at the shopping centre, we couldn’t help ourselves and had to have a quick look around. By the time we eventually got underway again, it was getting late and any thought of cooking for ourselves was quickly abandoned. Instead, we hunted around almost fruitlessly for somewhere to get a feed of fish and chips. Not only did we have trouble finding the flashing glow of a fish and chippery, when we did finally stumble across one, the meal we got was well below average. In Becs Words, she’d had enough and just wanted to go home. It was at this same moment in time that it was remembered that we needed a few supplies for the pantry and yet another stop would have to be made before we could finally call an end to the day. A realisation that saw Bec finishing the day in a mood not too dissimilar to the one in which I started the day with. At least we agree that the middle part of the day was fantastic.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.