Well I finished yesterday's blog with *****, so I guess it's only appropriate that I (briefly) start today's on the same subject. We got up early this morning (turns out 11 hours of sleep do the body good) and cheerfully stepped out onto our dimly-lit porch to see some beach-side marsupials. Not two steps out the door, Brittany's keen eye was instantly drawn to what appeared to be a pile of fresh kangaroo poo, quixotically perched on a three inch-wide handrail, suspended several feet above the ground. This naturally inspired an unusually large number of pressing questions, such as:"how did the poo get there? what would possess a large animal to precariously and skillfully perch on a handrail just to make such a deposit? had we offended said animal?" and, finally, "what does it all mean?" Of course, each of these questions could be nullified if we removed the presumption that a kangaroo was the offending pooper, but Brittany doesn't buy it and remains quite convinced that we were targeted by a particularly disturbed mother from the hundred acre wood. Unfortunately the beach right next to our cabin was kangaroo-free, so we jumped in the car for the 15 minute drive to Pebbly Beach down the road. It was a little nerve wrecking once we realized we'd left our GPS in the room (you all know how utterly amazing I am with directions...pffft) but we stumbled our way there. Just a few steps out of the car we knew we were someplace special. With only two or three other people around it felt like we had the whole beach to ourselves, and we saw groups of kangaroos nibbling on the dew covered grass before we even reached the sand. As the sun began to rise they slowly and steadily retreated to the shade, hopping a couple of feet every few minutes. I could watch them for hours. As they eat they'll sometimes move just a few inches by balancing on their tails and (seemingly) pulling themselves forward with their nubby little arms. It's a mechanically rigid movement as most of their body doesn't appear to move at all, but when it's time to really get somewhere they suddenly transform into a shockingly graceful creature, hopping with a flowing rhythm that puts everything from their ears to their toes in hypnotic motion. As if we hadn't seen enough wildlife for one morning we then noticed a couple of brilliantly red birds nearby, aptly named Crimson Rosellas. They were mesmerizing to look at, and I got as close as I could before they disappeared in a blurry flash of color. I came here really not knowing what to expect, and I'm being blown away at every turn! It became pretty clear that "Pebbly Beach" got its name from the thousands of tiny pebbles haphazardly strewn across the sand, but it might as well have been called "Scary Looking Jellyfish of Doom Beach" because there were just as many of those! They were small but had bright blue tentacles and purple-blue lines along their tops. I have no idea if they are poisonous or not, but I tend to think just about anything here could kill me, so I was pretty worried about the fact that Brittany was walking around barefoot. All I imagined was her suddenly collapsing in pain and me having to carry her on my shoulders while I frantically screamed for help. That unsettlingly realistic scenario played out a few times in my head before she begrudgingly put her flip flops on, which really didn't do much to quell the worry. We walked the beach for a long while (without succumbing to killer jelly fish attacks), and saw several more kangaroos hopping into the forest as we drove past on our way back to the cabin. Just before arriving, Brittany unexpectedly came across the animal she's been dying to see: a big, fluffy wombat! Unfortunately, it was upside down and stiff as a board with all four legs stuck straight in the air (no joke) but hey, it counts, right? The rain rolled in around breakfast, and I'm getting a little more worried about the weather. Apparently this is a freaky week for them and Sydney is even bracing for dangerous flash floods, so we might not get as many sunny days as I'd hoped, which will especially bum me out when we get to Wilson's Promontory National Park. Not much I can do about that though so we'll just have to hope for the best. Our next main stop was Tilba Valley Wines, and the rain came and went as we drove through forests, then valleys, then back through forests again. We stopped at a boardwalk and some lookout points along the way before finally settling in the winery's hills. A very kind older lady guided us through our tasting and we enjoyed a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc with lunch as water poured down over the vines. It stopped just as we left and we drove a little further down the road to the actual town of Tilba, which was basically just a short street of oddball shops and ice cream stores. We mainly came to visit a cheese factory that had been around since the 1800's, but it turned out to be a bit disappointing. The North Carolina cheese trail has ruined us forever, and a sterile looking warehouse with some refrigerated cheese in the corner just doesn't cut it anymore. At least I didn't blow fifty bucks like I thought I would :) That was supposed to be our last stop of the day, but it was only 2 or 3pm so we decided to get a jump on tomorrow and drive another hour and a half to Eden. The guidebook doesn't say all that much about the place, but, as this entry's title suggests, we were a bit confused as to who would call it "Eden". There's even a Garden of Eden trailer park down the road from our little apartment, and I think those tenants must have been seriously misled. Just about all the restaurants serve just one of two things: pizza or fish and chips. In spite of the array of culinary delicacies at our disposal, we opted for a trek to the grocery store. There were signs all along the way highlighting Eden's long-gone days of maritime relevancy, and it's painfully clear that they're desperately trying to renew interest in the town. As we stood in line at the store, rotisserie chicken in hand, Brittany pointed out something I'd not yet noticed: people everywhere were barefoot! It was like being in a WinnDixie at home where half the clientele decided shoes were unnecessary. Kind of weird, and I'm still not sure if this is an Australia thing or just an Eden thing. I'll be on the lookout from here on and will be sure to diligently report on my groundbreaking findings. Killer Whale Museum in the morning, then we're off to Ben Boyd National Park.