The Moorings of Metung, Gippsland, Victoria
Written by Patricia (Patsy) Poppenbeek
Whenever we’ve been to the Moorings we’ve been fleeing: either down from the cold and dark of Harrietville and Mt Hotham or away from Melbourne. Each time it’s been a relief to turn off the M1 Highway at Swan Reach and follow the rock-tumbled water of Tambo River as it paces the Metung Road before branching off to the sea. We’ve admired the green and sweetly sloping countryside, skimmed past the yacht club and pulled up at the Moorings, where for some reason it’s always been warm and calm. The Moorings is aptly named. You could moor your million dollar (plus or minus) yacht at the hotel’s jetty on the Bancroft Bay side of the hotel, step out onto the jetty in your smart yachting clothing (cotton or linen is best, apparently) and stroll past the two or three bedroom apartments on that side and through to reception for your key. Or you could park, as we did, outside reception and be efficiently welcomed and sent to your room or apartment on the Metung Road side, where depending on your type of accommodation, you can park your car snuggly outside your room or under cover. Most of the buildings are double storey, which makes them dignified but not formidable. Because of the balconies, pillars, peaked roofs and long windows I would have described the architecture as modern colonial, but Wikipedia suggests it is timber regional gabled style. Anyway, it is all silken white, light, subtly cozy and elegant. Inside the rooms, the colours are both warm and light: cinnamon, brown, white, with white bedding and not too many of those annoying decorative pillows on the beds. Why, why have so many hotels and motels installed these on the defenceless beds? They look nice, but who actually uses them as pillows? |
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If, like me, you like to sleep under layers, there is a sheet under the doona (I’ve stayed in places which for some reason have dispensed with top sheets and I’ve had to storm reception to get one) and blankets are in a cupboard. Goldilocks would approve the beds and pillows, which are Just Right.
One family apartment has its own charming small rear courtyard and each room or apartment on the ground floor has its own little bricked courtyard. The second storey rooms have their own airy balconies where you can sit if it’s warm enough and read or have a drink—champagne of course. Veuve Cliquot or Moet, perhaps, depending on your taste. If you’re on the ground floor, you can be soothed by the edging of soft grey foliage and white or blue flowers of bee- and bird-attracting plants.
Because of the cold, I didn’t try either of the heated pools, but the glass covered one seems charmingly like a conservatory.
One family apartment has its own charming small rear courtyard and each room or apartment on the ground floor has its own little bricked courtyard. The second storey rooms have their own airy balconies where you can sit if it’s warm enough and read or have a drink—champagne of course. Veuve Cliquot or Moet, perhaps, depending on your taste. If you’re on the ground floor, you can be soothed by the edging of soft grey foliage and white or blue flowers of bee- and bird-attracting plants.
Because of the cold, I didn’t try either of the heated pools, but the glass covered one seems charmingly like a conservatory.
There is a grassed tennis court and the adjacent conference room, which seats up to twenty participants, looks bright and airy. The large full moon shaped windows might prove either a distraction or an inspiration.
Across the road and around the corner are several cafes with good coffee and food. Walk diagonally across what seems to be a village green and you come to a very civilised pub which serves good food. Not great, but good. I should warn you, dear reader, that unfortunately my spouse is a fabulous cook so eating out is often a come down.
A gentle walk next morning along the tea tree fringed path beside Lake King to and from Shaving Point, admiring the ducks, shags and black swans dipping and ducking for food, and we were ready to go.
Across the road and around the corner are several cafes with good coffee and food. Walk diagonally across what seems to be a village green and you come to a very civilised pub which serves good food. Not great, but good. I should warn you, dear reader, that unfortunately my spouse is a fabulous cook so eating out is often a come down.
A gentle walk next morning along the tea tree fringed path beside Lake King to and from Shaving Point, admiring the ducks, shags and black swans dipping and ducking for food, and we were ready to go.