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.
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