Winter may officially be over but as the sun begins to sink it doesn’t take long before George starts muttering about the cold and wishing he had a few of the temperature probes he used to work with to demonstrate there is a marked “thermocline” (temperature drop off) at a height of 75cm above Getaway’s floor level. He maintains that while the heater may bring relief above that level, in what he calls the “epilimnion”, our legs remain in the “hypolimnetic zone” and freeze as a result. Such are the joys of being married to a limnologist!
Darlington Point ticked all the boxes with the addition of power and excellent television reception that we stayed on a few more days, celebrating the first day of spring with a drive back to Griffith to see more of its attractions. This city, like Canberra, was designed by American, Walter Burley Griffin and displays many of his distinctive circular roads with wide, tree lined streets and water feature; in this case he included a section of the main irrigation canal that travels in moat-like manner round a part of the CBD. Visitor Information Centres are always the best place to start and the Griffith one was easily spotted by the suspended Fairey Firefly Fighter Bomber, in its grounds. Inside, we gained a good insight into the history of an area back in 1817, being described by explorer John Oxley as “uninhabitable and useless to civilised man’. All was to change as Sir Samuel McCaughey of Yanco proved irrigation had the potential to change a barren land into an intensive agricultural landscape. We were stunned by the rich diversity of the Riverina and the construction of the Snowy Mountain Scheme took on a whole new perspective for us. In the Interpretation Centre we discovered the sale of hydro power to SE Australia had served to pay for the Riverina irrigation project. In turn 70% of Australian produce owes much to the Snowy Mountain Scheme.
Large numbers of construction workers poured into this area known as ‘Bagtown’ because cement bags along with flattened out 44 gallon drums were the first shelters in those early years before being proclaimed as the town of Griffith in 1916. Italian migrants were drawn to the area and following the world wars, more arrived to live in Griffin. Although 50% of the population is of Italian heritage, this is a large city of 30,000 multi-cultured people drawn by opportunity. Armed with directions and places of interest we made for Scenic Hill, a visual backdrop to the city with its rocky outcrops.
Apart from being nicknamed “the hermit” in Kariba, George had a reclusive aunt who chose to live in a drain with a lot of stray dogs as company, in Italy. Hence Griffith’s Hermit Cave story had empathetic appeal with similar parallels for us. In 1914 Italian-born Valerio Ricetti came to make a life for himself in Australia as a casual labourer around NSW and SA. Following a disastrous love affair, and many ups and downs he ended up disillusioned and disgusted with fellow man and in a search for a job away from people he trailed the Murrumbidgee River ending up on the outskirts of Griffith in early 1930 just as a rainstorm sent him scuttling for cover on the hill. Next day, he moved east towards the very cliffs we now overlooked and chose to settle to a reclusive way of life in the overhangs of the rocky escarpment, constructing stone walls to form a kitchen and sleeping quarters and later a chapel and a magnificent garden, in what was then an isolated area! Surveying the panorama of agricultural enterprise beyond the suburb with its sporting ovals immediately below us, we gained an understanding of why Valerio chose this place to call ‘La mia sacra collina’. Even then, he was unable to live without interference. In 1942, fearful he could be an Italian spy he was arrested and interned as a POW. On his release a well meaning friend took him under wing on a Griffith farm but Valerio continued to visit and call ‘Scenic Hill’ home.
‘The hermit’ in contemplation! Although George never met his Aunt Elma of Aquila, he admired her grit. Her story only came out in 1969 after his father and brother went to Italy to visit and attempted to extract Elma from her situation.
The chapel area with its natural high domed ceiling seemed reminiscent of sacred grottos found in Europe.
Time was slipping away and we knew we’d not be able to do justice to Pioneer Park Museum. Very out of keeping, we decided to visit Bilbul Estate which we’d passed a few days back, coming in from Leeton. Bilbul Estate is a leading family winery established in 1928 by Vittorio De Bortoli, now into a third generation. Although we find wineries daunting thanks to our lack of interest and ignorance, our cask of Port was almost depleted and the thought of restocking at source was appealing in view of the world class awards it has achieved. Arriving at the cellar door we met with a pleasant experience thanks to friendly staff, one member in particular willingly shared time with us; gave us a taste of De Bortoli’s icon Noble One and explained why this region is renowned for its botrytis style dessert wine. Grapes covered in mould make for a delicious wine and if we could afford the $60 a bottle we’d make that our wee spot foundation on a chilly night. We bought a cask of ‘Muscat’ for a change at her suggestion. We also stopped in at Riverina Grove factory to see the wide selection of gourmet products being made from the food bowl of Australia, beginning as a backyard family business. Too late, production had wrapped up for the day and sample tasting was over. We finished our day in Griffith doing a Woolworths shop before heading home the 30 kms.
We left another perfect camping spot and took the less travelled road to Hay staying on the northern side of the river. Often, we seemed to herd foolish galahs as they took off from the roadside following the dusty road in front of our bull-bar, flashing their grey or pink feathers in turn according to their flight pattern. Vineyards, olive groves and wheat fields were left behind as we moved west parallel to the meandering river we knew was there in all the flatness because of the dense, tall riverine forests that followed its course. On our north side grassy plains stretched to infinity causing Lea to pronounce the area as Nil-arbor more so than the Nullarbor itself! Almost immediately George pointed out a lone station gate sign “Nularbor”.
It took a moment to realise we’d passed a modern day drover’s tatty caravan and large truck camped in the middle of nowhere with travelling stock at rest in one of the reserves along the Murrumbidgee stock route. A goat amongst them had us laugh at its belligerence when cattle bunched up around its place of rest.
We took up residence in Hay Showgrounds - pleasant surrounds, cheap, and close to Dunera Museum, an Interpretive Centre on the Hay Internment and POW Camps. We were keen to understand the term ‘Dunera boys’ we’ve heard bandied about.
Dunera Museum is located in railway carriages alongside the beautifully renovated Railway Station, now the home of Hay’s local radio broadcasting studios.
Within the carriages we soon found ourselves drawn into an extraordinary story. The rationale for choosing Hay as Australia’s first Internment Camp was location; at the end of a railway line, far from the sea, surrounded by endless flat plains, the existing small settlement well away from significant urban areas; hard baked clay soils reduced temptation of tunnelling! Hay certainly met the criteria. Sadder still was the unravelling tale of almost 2000 German/Austrian Jewish refugees, who’d managed to escape from Nazi Germany only to be rounded up in England, mistakenly considered enemy aliens and secretly shipped out to Sydney, Australian on HMT Dunera. These first inmates arrived in rail carriages at this station, the first Saturday of September 1940! By twist of fate, we stood in a carriage at Hay Station on the first Saturday of September with ‘Getaway’ unconsciously parked in the very grounds of Internment Camps 7 and 8, a short walk away. It seemed remarkable to be acknowledging the spirit of Dunera Boys exactly 71 years later. Shortly after, they were joined by Italian farmers from Griffith and Japanese pearl divers from Broome, all considered security risks despite living and working within the country. Perhaps this included the harmless Griffith hermit? All seemed to make the best of a bad situation here and used their talents to make it a better place. By 1943/4 more places were required for POWs captured in combat and most Dunera Boys were reclassified as friendly aliens and relocated to a new Internment Camp in Tatura, Victoria. In time, they were employed in essential services by Australia’s 8th Company. At the end of the War, 800 Dunera Boys chose to remain in the country, calling it home.
Fears within war time Hay community were exemplified by a news-cutting of a man living close to the Camp, clambering onto his roof to hide behind his chimney with guns and rifles after unrest began in the Japanese POW camp. His concerned wife asked what he was doing up there and he responded “waiting to Pik-em-off!’
It was surprisingly hot in Hay despite wind gusting about. Inside the railway carriages we felt discomforted by our winter clothing more so the following description by an Internee caught our attention, especially as we’d so recently heard of Riverina’s summer dust storms:
“A hellish, burning wind started to blow. It became hot, very hot – 100 degrees and more. The air got darker. We were afraid a catastrophe was about to occur. Then the earth seemed to rise as if to fly away... The fine sand penetrated our huts and was in everything- clothes, books and palliasses. The desert was advancing. We thought we would suffocate. Our hearts beat fast and our temples throbbed. At night we lay on the ground to get air. Only days later did the wind change and everything returned to what it had previously been: the same magic pictures of willy willies, mirages and sunsets until the next storm set in”
Hay is in the centre of some of the flattest country on earth - therefore Hay boasts of the spectacular sunsets and sunrises to be seen. Unfortunately the blue sky fully glazed in thin cloud didn’t seem good enough for a 16 km ride out to Hay’s unique sunset viewing area on either of the nights we were there. Instead we observed a simple glow of orangey mauve colour from the Showground just as the inmates of Camp 7 and 8 had done all those years ago. In town we came across the famous Cobb and Co. Coach Company’s workshop where they constructed and repaired their coaches. A coach stood within, as testament to those days. In Hay, we intercepted the original Cobb Highway and we will be following it to its end in Echuca Moama.
The historic route frequented by Aborigine Clans, Bullockies, farmers, Swaggie, Shearers and the coach company Cobb and Co. between Moama and the Darling River.
The Cobb Highway is also known as The Long Paddock touring route as it follows part of Australia’s network of stock routes that historically linked the stock breeding areas of Queensland, New South Wales and Victoria although one could take that more literally seeing these flat grassy plains extending forever. The five major rivers of NSW cross this route. We’d camped beside the Darling at Wilcannia; we’d followed the Lachlan almost to its source from outside of Forbes; we’d joined the Murrumbidgee River just before Gundagai following it all the way to Hay. We have two more rivers ahead of us, the Edward and the Murray. ARTback Sculptures have been added, as have interpretive panels to allow travellers to experience the Long Paddock history. We began the Long Paddock journey at Bushy Bend, attractive bushland in a loop of the river close to the middle of town specially to see John Wooller’s three stainless steel sculptures- Cobbs Wheels, Murrumbidgee Landscapes and Lang’s Crossing. The township of Hay began as Lang’s Crossing as this is where livestock and coaches crossed the Murrumbidgee.
Wheels encountered no end of problems on primitive tracks and this sculpture pays homage to Cobb and Co.
Leaving Hay we were soon out in vast treeless plains with the landmark 16 Mile Gums becoming obvious as we neared this first changing station. Cobb coaches changed their horses at intervals varying between 15-17 miles. At Booroorban we stopped outside the Royal Mail Hotel – other than a lady on a sit-on mower nothing moved and we felt it was just too early to settle down in the camping grounds (525) so after reading the board, we moved on to Black Swamp. Usually dry, this swamp had the sheen of water everywhere and it was alive with happy bird noises. Lots of black swans, moorhens, spoonbills and ibis - 1974 marked the last water!
Geoff Hocking’s sculptural installation of the Headless Horseman – he was actually further right and missed the frame!
The legend of the Headless Horseman arises from a drover named Doyle dying at Black Swamp in the 1850’s and his ghost terrifying drovers camping in the area. In later years advantage was taken of this legend by an enterprising butcher to augment his meat supplies on the QT! The cunning fellow would ride the outskirts of the camp with a frame over his shoulders giving the appearance of being headless. This reduced drovers into nervous wrecks and spooked resting cattle into a stampede. A couple would be cut out of the mob and driven off to end in his butcher shop!
Wangarella was another pretty spot on the banks of Billabong Creek and home of the world famous Australian breed of sheep - Peppin Merino, developed here in the 19th century by the Peppin family. On the other side of the creek, behind the Peppin Ram Memorial (we were to come across a most interesting Peppin Museum in Deniliquin relating to the breed and early farmers in the region) was Wanganella Caravan Park, a good place to stop for the night. It was empty, payment had to be made back at a supermarket –we decided it was more trouble than it was worth and continued to Deniliquin. Here we crossed the Edward River and found a caravan park at McLean Beach. You may laugh at the term ‘beach’ so far inland as we did. However, the word had been used on several occasions along the Murrumbidgee. We even had Town Beach on our doorstep at Darlington Point, but the ‘Bidgee was running higher than normal covering its beaches. The same was happening at McLean – the usually large width of white sand was well under water as was the slipway and part of the parking area. Apparently Lake Hume is 98% full that the Water Authority is releasing water at present hence the high level of Edward River. We’d camped overlooking Lake Hume in 2008 when it was in a sorry state of only 9%.
As soon as we’d installed ourselves in the empty caravan park, unfortunately a central strip within rows of permanent holiday homes along the perimeter. Many have prime position over the river and as we took the river walk into Deni, as it is affectionately known, only then did the full extent of this caravan park come to light with fancy beach homes mixed lightly into the dominant and rather unsightly permanent caravan/shack holiday homes we’d found so common along the southern coast of NSW.
River Red Gums added a beauty to the river walk and caravan park. At evening time hordes of yellow crested cockatoo homed into the park to roost, their disorderly noises continued until all had settled for the night. The furore began at morning as they took wing.
Like Hay, Deniliquin is attractively centred round the original crossing place over the Edward River, its river walk cut off in a few places by the unusually high water levels. Near the bridge we found a Ute suspended on a pole and behind the Visitor Information Centre, stood a Mosaic Ute. Both stand testimony to the town’s status as the Ute Capital of the world! 2011 Ute Muster comes up at the end of this month and the organisers and patrons are looking to break more records with the numbers to beat this year being 10,152 Utes and 3,500 blue singlets – how Australian is that!
Our Info lady at the Visitor Centre was out of the ordinary, making our quick call a most interestingly long one. From the outset George had puzzled over the large size and course of the Edward River as its catchment had been indiscernible from the maps we had at our disposal. She easily explained it all with maps and showed us a model of Lawson Syphons carrying water from the Mulwala Canal under the Edward River and low lying country to serve the Deniliquin/ Womboota Irrigation District – an enormous area and quite mind boggling that we decided to see that next day. Married to a rice farmer she knew a remarkable amount about water allocations and river flows and happily gave us farmers views on the Murray River Commission Report they’d hurled on a fire in disgust and explained the water buy back systems operating in NSW and Victoria. The complexities are enormous and we’d taken enough of her time besides, the Bald Archy Exhibition had newly opened in the Peppin Heritage Centre which incorporates the Visitor Centre and we delightedly went in to see 2011 entrants.
The Archibald Prize is one of Australia’s oldest and most prestigious art awards fostering portraiture and perpetuating the memory of great Australians. The satirical opposite is the Bald Archy. We gained much pleasure recognising characters and recalling events 46 artists had portrayed in such humorous or stinging manner on canvas, particularly the lampooning of our most well known pollies. Of course Federal MP Bob Katter with his ‘abundant sense of his own absurdity’ was captured often on canvas although the year’s focus was primarily on Wikileaks Julian Assange! Another section in the building had been transformed into a regional museum depicting the history of wool and Peppin Merino sheep breeding in the region and the women of the saltbush country. Outside we found the last of the Artback sculptures- “Shod”, a giant half bullock shoe sculpture in tribute to the teamsters and bullockies who traversed the Long Paddock. George has been left to wonder long and hard how these two part ‘shoes’ were fitted to the cloven foot of a bullock!
It was a bit of a mission finding Lawson Syphons next day and we’d probably have missed it altogether if we hadn’t had the model in mind. No signs, no information and little to see other than fencing round the intakes therefore disappointing! The canal carries water from Mulwala over 166kms until the Edward River interfers with its route, necessitating the under-river syphons. At the time of their completion they were considered the largest engineering feat of their kind in the Southern Hemisphere.
We were especially looking forward to travelling towards Mathoura as the Cobb Highway runs along the eastern edge of the tilted Cadell Block. Our knowledgeable Info lady had advised us to look for the phenomena as it was all too easy to drive through quite unaware of its existence. We’d had no idea of this shift in the earth until now. Cadell Fault, a product of several large earthquakes c. 30 000 years ago, blocked the flow path of the Murray River. The river sought a new path to the north around the uplifted zone creating what is now called the Edward River. Then, about 8000 years ago, after a long period of sedimentation and infilling of the massive lake formed behind the fault (known as the Barmah lake) the course of the Murray shifted once again, southwards on this occasion, capturing the Goulburn river in the process and assuming its present day position in the landscape – altogether a fascinating series of events, illustrating the dramatic effect of seismic activity and the dynamics of rivers in such exceptionally flat terrain. Sure enough we were quick to identify the beginning of the fault that forced the mighty Murray northwards towards Deniliquin.
Mathoura served as a perfect place from which to explore the vast river red gum forests of the Millewa / Barmah National Park; trace the ancient movements of the Murray River and enjoy the birdlife associated with the Gulpa Creek Reed-beds. We decided to camp on the edge of the Murray River at a spot called Picnic Point. Another “Caravan Park” dedicated to permanent caravan and attachments plus a few cabins – we were given a site alongside the little jetty.
Camped in New South Wales looking across “The Narrows” of the Murray River into the State of Victoria (Barmah National Park)!
Sadly, most tracks through the park were closed due to inundation We stopped at the Tri Avian Corridor nearby, walking out to the Bird hide overlooking remnants of the vast lake formed by the Cadell uplift (now known as Old Barmah lake) – A “real” Ramsar Site this time, well managed, highly informative and with 260 species of birds associated with it, of genuine national and international significance. Lots of Treecreepers hopping up and down the tree trunks and such was the merry sound of bird song in the car park our expectations were raised.
From the hide, nothing to be seen! However, the zonation of reed-beds, sedges, aquatic grasses and forest was scenically impressive. As we departed, two black swans with five creamy grey cygnets appeared, further enhancing it all.
Afterwards we drove the Gulpa Creek road on the western edge of Millewa National Park looking upwards at the Cadell Fault line, along which runs Gulpa Creek while gaining a feel for the forests which collectively form the largest continuous area of river gum forest.
The earth moved at Moira too! Deceptive indeed, you have to know that is forest canopy not short trees and shrubs out there!
Echuca-Moama next! We’d been wondering why two towns are written together and we were quite right in deciding they must be on either side of the Murray River, the border between New South Wales and Victoria. We crossed over into Echuca as the Information Centre was there. Back in history two convicts set up in competition to each other on either side of the river crossing which cause a bit of conflict- all’s been resolved as the two towns in different States share their space happily as far as we could see. As the roadsides have been a colourful mass of purple flowers for a good couple of weeks Lea was set on finding out what they were. The Info man obliged with a laugh- they are a noxious weed in Victoria known as Patterson’s Curse while over in NSW they are called Salvation Jane, as in drought they provided feed, saving the sheep! The men discovered they had much in common and by the time they’d finished chatting about wood, Doug had set us on our way to Torrumbarry (pronounced Trum/bary) twenty minutes west of Echuca as Torrumbarry Weir and lock would interest us and there was a caravan park alongside, nestling amongst natural waterways and one of the remaining Box forests. We weren’t impressed by the caravan park- expensive with the inevitable clustered, ugly permanent ‘vans in prime positions. Luckily we found ourselves a site at the back overlooking the box forest and the walk down to Torrumbarry Irrigation structure made it worth staying. Goulburn Murray Water operates the weir with a fine Interpretive Centre giving us the history of the original Weir and Lock, completed in 1924 to service the Victorian surrounds as far as Swan Hill until a significant leak in the footings of the weir required urgent repair in 1992.
A new Torrumbarry Weir and Lock infrastructure was completed in 1997 with a fish ladder to allow native fish to move upstream.
We returned to Echuca next day taking a night in a park close to the historic Wharf. As soon as we’d settled in we took to the Murray River walkway to see the fleet of lovingly maintained Paddle-steamers operating out of Echuca. Although there are plenty of folk on the road and our park was very busy, the season doesn’t seem to be fully underway as only one paddleboat appeared to be operating touristy ‘hour’ rides which didn’t catch our fancy we’d like to have done an overnight trip. Perhaps our time will come, somewhere along the Mighty Murray. George proposed buying a houseboat when our caravanning days were over and spending a year on the Murray - Castles??? The old buildings behind the wharf were full of history and the steam whistles from the paddleboat evoked a lovely atmosphere of bygone days which made up for the disappointment of the Wharf itself undergoing renovations with trucks and cranes blocking views.
Port of Echuca in the throes of a face lift.
The bitter winds that blew all morning finally gave way to short, sharp downpours of rain followed by sunny breaks- whether or not these were enough to test the roof, it stayed dry.
Making our way east, bent on exploring more of the Murray upstream, we passed through more dairy and sheep country looping around the Barmah/Millewa National Park and associated swamps. No camping available around the Goulburn River as we crossed over, we chose to spend the night in the Goulburn Valley at Nathalia’s River Bend Caravan Park on Broken Creek. This gave us a well constructed tarred river walk into town with footbridges over the creek. Perfect for the man in a wheelchair being whisked along by a handsome red dog, that was a lovely sight although we weren’t too sure who was taking who for a walk?
So much for following the Murray – with high water levels most camp grounds were inundated and caravan parks in the vicinity were either expensive or looked cramped. Like Echuca-Moama came Cobram-Barooga separated by the Murray. Neither towns displayed caravan parks with appeal although crossing the Murray gave us a good impression of how wide the flood plain is and the number of anabranches contained within it not to mention the forest density. Black clouds steadily gathering didn’t help and as we moved on down came the rain. Fortunately we didn’t have to suffer wipers and wet roads for long as we found Cobram East Caravan Park encircled by large stone fruit orchards virtually all in flower and that suited us down to the ground.
While in Cobram we had looked over a dear little pioneer log cabin preserved as a museum of those early days. Further down the Murray Valley Highway we visited the 1842 Byramine Homestead, a National Trust home belonging to Elizabeth Hume, the sister-in-law of famous explorer Hamilton Hume. Her husband John was shot dead by the notorious Whitton gang when he came to the assistance of his neighbour in Gunning. Bushrangers had constantly harassed them on their estate there so Hamilton Hume took his brother’s widow and nine children under his wing and settled them here.
Byramine Homestead -Elizabeth took her plans of a house drawn up by an English architect for use in India and chose a beautiful site by a lagoon on low sand hills forested in Murray pine. No pines remain instead 1800 acres of vegetable production stretched in all directions from the garden boundary.
The towns of Yarrawonga-Mulwala separated by the Murray River exist on the foreshores of the man-made Lake Mulwala providing a recreational heartland although we wondered about its easy navigability due to the number of emergent dead trees. We found a quiet, most pleasant Westside Caravan Park. It wasn’t on the edge of the lake. It was a block back from the river with a lovely track through a Nature Reserve that led to the Yarrawonga Weir, the largest weir on the Murray, boasting a privately owned small hydro power station and a fish lift providing the first opportunity in sixty years for fish to travel upstream of the weir.
After two nights in Yarrawonga we began to turn southwards, leaving the Murray River and following the Ovens River, draining part of the Victorian Alps. We were headed for Scott and Sue Lebish’s new home outside Ovens, spending a night in Glenrowan en route, as this historical settlement was Ned Kelly’s Last Stand. Glenrowan Caravan Park was a lovely spot backed by the Warby Range with outlooks toward the Alps and Mount Buffalo. A gentle walk up the back of Glenrowan Mountain amongst the yellow and blue wildflowers at evening time had kangaroos scampering away and George spotted an echidna trundling along.
Ned Kelly’s bones are in the news reawakening our interest in him. He was hanged at the old Melbourne Gaol in 1880 and when bones were dug up recently DNA proved they were his. His Kelly and Smith descendents are to gather and decide on a suitable resting place soon. Although many of Ned’s family are buried in Benalla, any town associated with Ned would wish for his remains to be buried within their precinct as he’s a potent drawcard!
We followed the markers relating to Ned Kelly’s Glenrowan siege leading to his last stand and spoilt ourselves with a Devonshire tea at Billy Tearoom in true Aussie style – we loved this little town and the effort put into recording its history!
After our morning in Glenrowan, we took the Gourmet route through Milawa to Myrtleford stopping for late lunch beside the Ovens River before making our way up Happy Valley Road outside Ovens to easily find Sue and Scott Lebish and Gus the dog awaiting our arrival. What a setting!
We were introduced to the horses, alpacas and cows as we walked the grassy slopes of ‘Happy Valley’ Later we were aquainted with Morris the rooster and his large harem.
Specific reason for coming here - Scott’s milestone birthday. Once Nic and Bec were home from school the celebrations began. Scott and Sue had taken two days off work and we all worked our socks off preparing for the onslaught of long distance houseguests coming from different directions of Australia on the Friday evening. Never mind being travel and work weary, this evening of mingling laid the groundwork for a fabulous Saturday night celebration set between home and local pub. Sue’s organizational skills were such that a mighty relaxed and enjoyable weekend ensued and we were all treated royally.
Bec and George checked the boundary fences on Thundy and Shanti. Lea joined the mob that went to the markets in Bright.
It never entered Lea’s mind as a teacher singing happy birthday to a small boy in Kariba, she’d do the same at his 50th Guests were taken aback at meeting Scott’s kindy teacher – an improbable occurrence in the greater scheme of things!
Nic took George trout fishing, NO fish for dinner as all were undersized and released.
Gus took George walking in the state forest behind the property. Although no deer were seen, George was interested to see tree bark well marked by stags rubbing their antlers.
With guests departing at staggered times during the course of Monday morning we made our way to Wandiligong for an unexpected day with Judy and Roger Lebish. They had called by the previous evening surprising us with an early return from Queensland. A magnificent day overlooking Mystic Mountain with lunch on the sundeck was followed with their presence at a ‘sadza and stew’ dinner by George and Sue that night. True to forecast, a ‘Front’ moved in to disrupt our sleep with gale winds gusting up the valley interspersed with squally rains. We took the first break in the weather next morning to bid reluctant farewells and hit the road. We didn’t travel far before storm clouds hurled sleet, light hail and bouts of heavy rain upon us. Eventually the decision was made to return to the familiarity of Glenrowan Caravan Park to wait out these nasty conditions. NO leaks!
An improvement in the weather had us make our way towards Shepparton next day. Not too far from Glenrowan was Benalla, another significant town on the Ned Kelly touring route. Supposedly notorious Ned’s ‘hometown’ yet famously the 1907 birthplace of ‘Weary’ Dunlop who grew up on the family farm and as a brilliant student and sportsman, attended Benalla High School before studying medicine in Melbourne and enlisting in the Second World War as a surgeon. His outstanding leadership, courage and care of his fellow man made him a legend, as a POW in Thailand’s notorious Burma Railway. Benalla must also have a name for gliding as we spotted gliders being towed up into the sky. Many years have passed since seeing a glider. Lea was promptly reminded of her cousin, Ian Vivian taking her gliding in the early ‘60’s – so silent, hot and hard to breathe! Not a caravan friendly town we ended up simply refuelling and pushing through. Oddly- over the radio came an interview of the great grandson of Ned Kelly’s half sister as we journeyed on.
Tatura was south-west of Shepparton and we fancied staying there as this area housed seven Internment and POW Camps during World War II AND the Dunera Boys were sent here from Hay! Tatura turned out to be much further than the 15km mentioned and the caravan park even further west, with little to recommend it other than it was cheap with a friendly owner. We decided to return to Shepparton as soon as we’d unhitched to find the ‘MooovingArt’ as well as find long overdue water filter and shower tent replacements!
Greater Shepparton produces a large percentage of Australia’s dairy exports and to promote interest they have chosen an unusual exhibition of colourful cattle. Shows how intent we were driving through Shepparton the first time as we didn’t spot a cow yet on our return they jumped out from all over the place! MoovingArt is an interactive exhibition of ever-changing fibreglass cows scattered across parks, gardens, riverbanks and public spaces. We even found some outside businesses and quite the most delightful little ones inside the Visitor Information Centre. Oh sister Holly Howcow, I’d love to have bought you Cafe au Lait- a cow lying back with abandonment in a coffee cup!
The large life-sized herd are full of variety and charm. Some had names (Cow Slip, Cow Now) others were characters, had famous patterns or wit.
We were back in a rich agricultural region of the Goulburn River. Besides dairy cattle, we’d passed through many large orchards coming into bloom with the name SPC Ardmona obvious. Some of the world’s largest food processing plants are based around Shepparton and amazingly George was prepared to give Lea a short, sharp visit to SPC Ardmona Factory Outlet in Shepparton. Turned out to be Australia’s biggest cash & carry food clearance centre with top brands sold singularly or in bulk. Great bargains, it reminded us of MACRO, South Africa! Later, we met with success buying the new filter and ablution tent – buying only after we’d both taken practical lessons on folding up the display model – thanks to a patient salesman.
Tatura Camp sites were dismantled after the war and we found little existed of the Internee camps. On returning from our afternoon in Shepparton we paid a visit to the German War Cemetery located close to our caravan park and as the town’s cemetery adjoined we couldn’t resist an evening walk through the Catholic Italian section as the grandeur of family sepulchres was something to behold. Bright skies had the Begg’s departing surprisingly early next day to find a missed opportunity seeing Tatura Wartime Museum, as it is only open afternoons. We followed the Goulburn River to Murchison, a very pretty river bank garden town and spotted merry moos from the MooovingArt herd, ‘grazing’ along the Goulburn banks. Again we were too early in the day to discover anything more of the Murchison Meteorite which broke up in the sky above the town in 1969 and took the road to the cemetery to see the Ossario constructed in remembrance of Italian Prisoners of War and the detainees who died in Australian prison camps. The road soon narrowed making the prospect of turning a caravan dubious and we called off the visit and motored on to Seymour planning to stay in Lancefield. No good! We ended travelling further than intended to land up in Macedon Caravan Park as there were so few caravan parks around.
HATE Foxes! Chop off their tails...
Take the less travelled road and in all likelihood you’ll be surprised! As we trundled the farming roads near Newham, Lea was inspecting the map when George gasped “foxes”! It must have taken nanoseconds for George’s brain to process what his eye had seen as there was nothing for Lea to see! Such was his shattered reaction he needed to STOP. We didn’t dare as there was no safe place and it took a while before a side road enabled us to make a quick turn. Camera at the ready we retraced the road and found a smaller group of straw coloured, desiccated carcasses attached to the farm fence like thatching! Close by was the unbelievable sight of absolute carnage. Once again it took time to find another side road and just as we reversed out a truck drew up at George’s window asking if we were lost. We’d obviously been under surveillance...
“No! We wanted to see the foxes”
“Oh” says he cheerfully, “that’s my farm”. If we hadn’t had a large truck awaiting our manoeuvres in the side road, we’d have asked more instead we hit the road pondering the need to notch foxes up on a fence and passed them by for a third time.
Just as forecast, strong winds began to circulate around us and we were happy to take a site in an open clearing within the Black Forest of the Macedon Ranges and stay safely cooped up for the afternoon – willing the new ‘front’ to blow itself out before our ferry crossing of the Tasman Sea on the 24th September. By morning the wind had calmed down with a definite bite in the air as grey clouds rolled across the sky giving us intermittent sunshine. We wondered what views we’d have of Port Phillip and Melbourne as we headed up Mount Macedon. Grand homes with superb views and magnificent showpiece gardens, all a host of green varieties as trees burst into fragile new leaf. These summer retreats for wealthy Melbournians lined the vertically inclined route up to the Regional Park atop the summit of Mount Macedon- so named by Major Mitchell Surveyor General of the NSW Colony who climbed up here in 1836 (the first white man to do so) to check co-ordinates for Port Phillip. Phillip made him think Macedon!
At the top of the Range - Memorial Cross. The original structure commemorating those who gave their lives in 1914-1918 was damaged by storm and fire and replaced in 1995.
Too darned chilly to take the track up Camels Hump a rocky outcrop formed by volcanic action millions of years ago and the highest point in the Macedon Ranges so we continued the round road route winding down the steep mountain for a ‘Picnic at Hanging Rock’!
We were here because a book and a film impacted on us and brought lasting mystery to this long extinct volcano formed when lava blew through a vent and now rises 105 metres on the surrounding plains.
Hanging Rock itself! Rainwater action has created the unusual rock formations, known to geologists as soda trachyte.
Fact or fiction! We couldn’t help puzzling over the disappearance of a teacher and three schoolgirls (one was found in a dazed state a week later) while on a school picnic in 1901. Atmospheric and beautiful up there as we wound our way to the pinnacle amongst strange shaped rocks giving spectacular views through nooks and passageways. The large grounds below made a lovely place to picnic.
Returning through Woodend a former resort town we called into Macedon to find Stanley Park and see Turitable Creek cascading over an ancient lava flow and check out Ash Wednesday Park in memory of the terrible fires that swept through this area in 1983, before reaching the warmth of our caravan.
Macedon Caravan Park has allowed us to hang around past 'check out' time today until our depature for Melbourne and the Spirit of Tasmania Ferry Terminal – 65kms away in time for the evening sailing. It is a freezing morning that we've decided to post September Blog early, temporarily ending our travels on the mainland.
