Benalla, Victoria

Benella.   Home to Walter for ten years and home to his family for many more.  But everyone has moved to other places or passed away.    And for us, Benalla is now a place of memories.

Walter's family home, small and modest, but they owned it.   A great achievement for new migrants to Australia, in the mid 1950s.

Coffee time, in a lovely sunny spot on the street.

A few shoppers around, on a Friday morning.

We looked across the street to the very large shop that was once Harrisons, a huge hardware store.  Rudolf was the manager there.  Sadly now it is a cheap gift store.

The very smart public toilets.  We are finally getting used to country towns, and make sure we know where the toilets are, before we have coffee.

On the road again.  The beautiful gum trees lining the country road.

Then onto the Hume Highway, destination Melbourne, then around the city edge to Geelong and then to Point Lonsdale.

Victoria, here we come.

We woke to overcast skies, wind and a hint of rain in the air, plus a sudden drop in temperature.  The hot weather disappeared overnight.  However the drop in temperature was a welcome relief, not just for us, but to everyone living in the countryside.   The threat of a bushfire in extreme conditions is ever present.

After a quick drive through the centre of Wagga Wagga, which appeared to be a very pleasant town, we set forth again, to drive the 100 kilometres to the border, and then a further 70 kilometres to Wangaratta.

Blaney Barracks, in Kapooka, the army training area for new recruits, just outside Wagga Wagga.  Walter spent three months there training to be a soldier, way back in the 1960s.  He remembers it all very well.   Great fun?  I doubt it.  But certainly needed if one is to become a successful soldier.

We drove south on the Olympic Highway until we came to an unusual little settlement called Culcairn.  Time for morning coffee.

There was nothing much in this settlement.  A few houses, shops, a railway line, a school, and some rural industries.

But it held an amazing Arts Centre building.

The library had a most interesting Christmas tree display.  A pile of books in the shap of a fir tree.

The main street, with shops that looked as if they were closed but had people inside.  No lights on, not even in the small supermarket.

But amazingly, there was an upmarket and very trendy bakery and cafe, which was doing a roaring trade.  People queueing for coffee, cakes and pies.   Where did they all come from!  It also appeared to be the social hub for the area.  The coffee was perfect, no wonder the place was popular.  The word had spread far and wide.

After the caffeine kick, we drove on, until we came to the Hume Highway, a motorway which ran from Sydney to Melbourne.   No risk of broken windscreens on this highway, unlike the old single lane road, where we managed to achieve this twice.  Driving without a front windscreen was no fun, even with one's coat on back to front to minimise the wind effect.

Then on through the twin towns of Albury and Wodonga, until we came to the lovely town of Wangaratta.   Our destination for the night.

We went for an historical walk around the town.  As well as being a rural town, Wangaratta became a centre of importance during the gold rush in the 1800s.  Now it has wineries in the area and ski slopes within driving distance in the winter time.

St Patrick's Church, one of the oldest buildings in the town.

The old Presbyterian church, now an art gallery.

Holy Trinity Church, not so old in parts,  although it looks it.   The church bell tower is very remarkable as it is wooden, and quite modern, however the bells are very old, having come from an old church in the United Kingdom.

I am not sure about this house.  Was it the Bishop's house?   The map was a bit unclear at this point.  A beautiful old house, though.

I loved the silvery gum trees, in the park below the motel.

And now we are about to go to sleep, having spent a lovely evening with Amanda, catching up on all the news.   She cooked a most delicious dinner, which we enjoyed very much.    Always great to catch up with family.

And as I drift off, I continue to puzzle on the lack of toilets in cafes in country towns in New South Wales, and perhaps in Victoria too.  Or throughout Australia, perhaps.  Combining a coffee stop with a toilet stop is not a possibility, except in McDonalds.    It is either cross one's legs and have a coffee, or find the public loos and forget the coffee.  There appears not to be a close link between the two in the minds of cafe owners.

New South Wales. On the plains, for sure

We did not go in to the centre of Dubbo, due to too much traffic and running slightly late.  We needed to get out onto the road.  Hope we did not miss anything. 

But which way?   There are four main roads out Dubbo.  The Newell Highway north, which is the one we drove in on, and from which the Castlereagh Highway diverges north west to outback Queensland.   There is the Mitchell Highway which travels north west to Bourke and beyond.  And from this highway there is the Barrier Highway to Broken Hill and beyond.  And we could have taken the Mitchell Highway south east to Sydney.

But we took the fourth road, the Newell Highway south, and we were definitely on the plains now.   Mostly flat countryside, very few hills, and long straight roads, with gum trees on either side and kilometres of grain crops.   However, the land was not dry, due to good rain in winter and spring.

We stopped for coffee in Parkes, the home of the Parkes Observatory.  I think I expected more from Parkes, and did not get it.  A boring town really, with not much on offer, in shopping, cafes or in style.   It is, however, a major regional centre.

Discount Dave's appeared to be booming, perhaps it was a statement about the local rural economy.

At last I managed to capture a photograph of a Jacaranda tree in full flower.  These trees are breathtakingly beautiful when out in flower.

When we drove through this area in December 1982, we stayed in the camping ground in Forbes, 33 kilometres south.  We camped by the river, Walter and me, and our four children, in our two tents.   There were also hordes of mosquitoes.   We had an early Christmas on Christmas Eve, packed up at around 4 am on Christmas Day, and drove north to Armidale.

Lunch today was in a park in Wyalong, luckily not by the sprinklers as they were set to come on at 1 pm.  But I guess it would have cooled us off.  The beer, see empty bottle in photograph, was non alcoholic!

We then drove into West Wyalong, 5 kilometres south, in search of an after lunch espresso.  A cute little town, with two bends in the main street, instead of the usual dead straight street.

And we found an airconditioned pub that sold coffee.  It was so lovely to sit on the leather couches, and drink our coffee and sip our lime and soda drinks.  Quite luxurious after our park bench lunch.

We returned to Wyalong, which one must not get confused with its neighbour, West Wyalong, and took the Goldfields Way, a minor road, south.

At this point we could have taken the Mid Western Highway west, through the most boring Hay plains, until we reached Mildura, and then it would have been a reasonably short trip to Adelaide.  This was our normal route when travelling to and from Brisbane.  But not today.

 We took a few moments to reflect on the trip we made in our mustard coloured VW Combi van, in 1982, with four children placed strategically in four corners with sleeping bags and pillows in between to stop any fighting or messing about.  We had no airconditioning, so tied the small side windows back in order to get some air flow.   Every time we stopped, Walter had to crawl under the van and hit the starter motor with a spanner to get the van going again.  The outside temperatures were in the high 30s or early 40s, and the Hay plains was a mass of swirling dust due to a drought.  It was some trip, but we survived.  We also had very patient children, when I think of the number of hours we travelled each day.

But back to the Goldfields Way.   A much quieter road.  Although the straightness of it, plus the glare, resulted in me nodding off.  Luckily I was not driving.

Our speed was 100 kmh, as according to the road signs.  Yet we were overtaken by a huge semi trailer.  No speed limits for this big brute, which quickly disappeared from view afterwards.

We drove through towns with the unlikely names of Temora and Junee.  Junee is beside the the Sydney to Melbourne train line.

The workman, in the photograph below, wearing the fly net under his hat and over his face, in order to keep the flies off his face.  He told us the flies would drive him crazy if he did did not wear it, standing there on the hot tarmac.   Too many flies to get rid of, using the great Aussie wave, which we had been perfecting during our travel through NSW.

The stop for the night was in Wagga, Wagga, 100 kilometres from the New South Wales/Victoria border.  When we reach it, we would have driven about 1440 kilometres.

New South Wales. Out on the plains, or so we thought.

Armidale.  I always liked reaching this town on the journey from Adelaide, South Australia, to Brisbane, Queensland.  It was a relief to know that the dry plains and countryside were behind us, and that in front of us there would be greenness, and often rain too.  Comes with the territory.  

Our first task in the morning was registering for basic medicare at the CentreLink/Medicare office in Armidale.   This took some time as the staff were unsure of the procedure.   No doubt there would not be many overseas travellers registering for Medicare in Armidale.  Luckily our details were still on the system from our last trip.

The shopping area of Armidale was superb, plenty of thriving shops, large chain stores, and extremely clean paving everywhere.  And outside cafes, with planter boxes, on pedestrianised footpaths.   Perfectly landscaped.  But no time to loiter here, we had to move on to the next town.

Unfortunately, I have no photographs of the huge brick Catholic churches, with equally large brick Catholic schools next door, in Tenterfield and Armidale.  Obviously wealthy Catholic communities.

But ever onwards.  The road slowly descended, and it was obvious that we were leaving the higher and greener land behind, although the countryside was still pretty hilly.

Next stop on the New England Highway, Tamworth, home of country and western music with the next festival in January 2016.  We remember Tamworth as a fairly dry, hot and generally uninteresting city, but during the last thirty years the city centre has had a facelift.   As in Armidale, the streets have been paved, buildings spruced up, and trees planted closely together.   A cool oasis in which to have a walk, and to drink our morning coffee.

The Australian utility, gone upmarket, with dual cab, and very comfortable seats.

An old brown brick pub, on the corner, also revitalised, without losing its iconic character.

There were benches along both sides of the street, perfect for sitting on, in the shade, for shoppers to have a rest.

Our white Toyoto, parked perfectly by me.  I love reverse angle parking, so much easier than parallel parking.

Back on the road again, on the Oxley Highway.  We appeared to be out on the plains, it was certainly flatter, and there were some long stretches of straight road, but there were still hills surrounding us, which cannot be seen in the photograph below.  No real plains yet.

Our lunch stop, in Gunnedah, at a deserted, dry and hot park by the river.  Typical.

The house on stilts, built for air circulation, although in this situation, the stilts no doubt keep the house out of the water when the river floods.

After lunch we headed to McDonalds for our after lunch espresso, and a toilet break.  Thank goodness for McDonalds.  No town is too small for a thriving McDonalds.

An undulating road, we are not on the plains yet.

One hundred kilometres down the road, we stopped at Coonabarabran.   I just love the name.  It really rolls off the tongue.  We were in need of an ice cream.  Just too hot.

The Commonwealth Bank, in an immaculate old building, and newly painted.   Glowing against the blue sky.

There were not many people out on the hot streets of Coonabarabran, but the huge road trains thundered through every few minutes.

Coonabarabran was the town chosen for the 1957 film 'Shiralea' staring Peter Finch.  A story about a swagman father who found himself in custody of his daughter, and took her with him as he roamed around the countryside.

Back in the car again we drove a further 100 kilometres, to Gilgandra, where we stopped at the Information Centre/Museum.   We were certainly not used to driving in the glaring heat.  An interesting museum about the history of the area.

We were now driving on the Newell Highway, and continued south to Dubbo.  The Newell Highway north travels through the farming areas of Narrabri and Moree until it reaches Goondiwindi.  I worked as a 'mother's help' on a station above Goondiwindi, which in 1966 was at the edge of the 'back of beyond'.  It was quite an experience, and I really enjoyed life on an outback property.

Finally we arrived in Dubbo, to a comfortable motel, and huge meat meals at a local pub.  People certainly love their meat in this country.

Another very hot day, in the mid thirties.

Over the Great Dividing Range

Yesterday we said a reluctant farewell to Jackie and Nick, on the Gold Coast, and set off on our long trip  to Adelaide, South Australia, via inland New South Wales and Victoria.

We also said goodbye to Frankie, the cute cat, who had just realised that he could climb the front mesh door, in order to chase flying insects.

We drove on the motorway, along the coast, and passed over the border into New South Wales, where we put our watches and clocks forward by an hour.  Queensland does not have daylight saving, which is quite a pain for anyone living on the border, and for everyone else that does not live in Queensland.

When we arrived at Byron Bay, home of retirees, alternatives, surfers and currently, schoolies celebrating the end of their school life, and trying to cause mayhem, we turned right, and started the long drive up over the range.

The Great Dividing Range runs along the east coast of Australia, from the most northern tip of Queensland, through New South Wales and into Victoria, where it ends in the Grampians.  The range has both low hills and high mountains, plus everything in between.

We drove through Lismore, a town with lots of character, past beautiful and lush rainforest until we reached a plateau, and stopped at Casino.  An interesting name for a town.  I looked it up on Wikipedia, and found out that a grazier named his station Casino, after Cassino which is near Monte Cassino in Italy.

There appears to be no other similarity to Italy other than in the name.  A bleak town, with hardly a soul around, except for a few 'unusual characters' such as the lady wheeling a dolls pram with a small dog in it, and an old man with jeans cut off so high, they were stubby shorts.  Of course he had boots on as well, and looked a bit worse for wear.

Walter decided to have his hair cut.  Living dangerously!   The hairdresser had no other customers, and with a gleam in her eyes she cut Walter's hair very short.  The price was at the other end of the spectrum to the price of my hair makeover.  But Walter was very happy, both with the price and the cut.  Actually it does look good.

The Post Office was quite flash, and very busy.

We ate our packed lunch in the shade, and watched the world go by, which amounted to the few 'unusual characters'.

The bush changed from rainforest to blue gums, and farmland.

The roads were very twisty, as well as undulating.  Not a good road for anyone suffering from motion sickness, as we found out when we travelled through there when Emma was young.

A single lane bridge, shades of New Zealand.

After many more winding and undulating kilometres, and beautiful bushland, and outcrops, we arrived at Tenterfield on the New England Highway.

Once on the main inland road, there were plenty of road trains thundering past.  Most trucks have two long trailers, and about thirty six wheels, and they travel at the same speed as cars, that is 100 or 110 kmh.  Scary beasts.

We sped along the New England Highway, through Glen Innes, Ben Lomond, Glencoe and Dundee, which of course do not match the Scottish equivalents.  There must have been a very large Scottish immigration assault on this area.

We were still very high up, on a plateau, as we also passed the highest village etc, according to the signs.

The peaks around us were also still very visible.

We finally arrived at Armidale, the highest town in Australia, apparently.  It was also the most expensive looking one too.  A very prosperious area, no doubt.  After booking into a motel, we headed off to the local Bowling Club for a meal.  And a very posh looking place it was too, with very posh prices to match.

And to add one note, it would appear that stubby shorts are still popular out in the country.  I saw quite a few men wearing them.  They must be cool, but flattering, no.