Shopping with hippies

A child of Warrandyte and a motorcycle maid (such as I have been) really shouldn't see 33 summers before making it out to St Andrews Market. St Andrews lies on Melby's north-east fringe and is reached by some of the best surfaced, most delightfully winding roads that I've ever had the pleasure of putting two wheels over (although on this particular day, we took my cousin Sam's car, a burnt orange Corolla nearly as old as I am).

The town (village? hamlet? these words don't work outside England!) in its entirety comprises a pub (recently rebuilt after a fire), a bakery, about 10 houses and community hall beside a big open space that features the weekly Saturday morning market. If only it could be reached by public transport, it would indeed be indie hippy heaven.

My cousins (including the adorable Oliver, below), my husband (!!) and I spent several lazy hours wandering through stalls full of silk skirts, second hand clothes, home baked cakes, curries and lentils, funky gemstone jewellry, drought resistant native plants, second hand tools and even didgeridoos! Buskers played beautiful music and artists propped on rocks or fallen trees to sketch their surrounds. Apart from the frantic half hour where I lost the only surviving key to my cousin's car - it was found and turned in to a stallholder- it was a perfect way to spend a day.