We were planning on moving on today, but we both slept late, so decided to stay on.
The wind had dropped, and the day was sunny. It was warm enough for Couey to be allowed another romp in the lake.
I will come back – reluctantly
I did a load of washing. Cost $3.
Mid-morning, two rigs moved in on one side of us. Pleasant to have some neighbours again.
Our site by the lake at Boort
I drove to the shops and did a small stock up at the supermarket – $49 worth.
For the rest of the day, we just lazed about. John spent some time on his laptop. I read. Took Couey for a walk along the lake front. She really wanted another swim and kept trying to pull away from me, but it was too late in the day for her to dry adequately before she would want to be back in Bus – and on MY bed! So, no water games.
That shag again – and some really authentic detail…
Tea was chicken and mushroom sausages, fries. John had an egg with his.
Couey got her morning ball games, but no lake play – it was far too cold.
A gloomy day
When I made lunch, realized that John was very low on milk, so after eating we drove to the local supermarket, hoping it would be open, but fearing that, in a small country town, it would not. The sign on the closed door said they shut at 1pm, but the owner was still inside, at the cash register, finishing up with a customer. He saw me peering in and opened up for me. Lovely of him. That wouldn’t happen in the city!
Since we were out, John decided to keep driving, Headed to the east, towards Durham Ox. Weird name. My map – a tourist information one – showed a road we could use to do a round trip, alongside the Loddon River. When we came it, the surface was dirt and I was not prepared to gamble on it, having seen the heavily rutted state of some of the other area roads, after what must have been fairly recent heavy rains.
So we drove on to Durham Ox, which was basically just an intersection, turned around and retraced our way. On the approach back to town, John stopped at a place that was having a clearing sale – he’d noted it on the way out. He went in to browse. I stayed in the car. He did not buy anything, which was wise given our lack of spare space. It was mostly farm related items anyway.
Next, we drove right around Little Boort Lake. There were some good looking, mostly modern, homes across the road from the lake, with good views over it. Clearly, the “best” part of town.
The main Boort Lake looked to have a lot of dead trees and reeds growing in it – not as attractive as the “little” one.
John wanted to look at the large silos we could see in the distance from the caravan park, so we drove in that direction, then kept on going on a dirt road as far as Woolshed Swamp, where the road became a bit boggy. Commonsense prevailed and he turned around and we went back.
Saw an interesting old brick structure in a paddock, near the railway line. A brick cylinder, with what looked like windows at intervals up it. I thought it might be a silage pit? From something we saw days later, seemed it was probably a water tower, presumably related to the railway, though that was a few hundred metres away. Maybe the rail route had changed?
Mysterious brick structure…Water Tower?
There was so much grain stockpiled around this district. The receiving area at Boort had numerous grain heaps, under the pale blue plastic sheeting.
When we got back to camp, I took Couey for a walk in the opposite direction to usual. The caravan park was partly wedged between the lake and an irrigation canal. We walked to where the canal exited from the lake, where there was a board-walked section through some swampy ground, and a footbridge over the canal. There was another Mens Shed metal sculpture in the canal mouth – a large dragonfly.
Saw a number of ducks swimming on the canal. Every day since arriving here, we’d heard gunshots at different times of the day, and from not too far away. At the same time, there had been no ducks on the lake, just coots, the occasional swamp hen and one shag. I’d assumed the shooting was duck hunting and hoped the ducks had all fled to somewhere safe. However, today I realized that there was a clay target shooting club nearby, and this was the source of the noise. I was pleased to have seen some ducks happily swimming.
The caravan park from across the lake
There were no other vans in this afternoon, This is the first time we had been alone here, in this part of the park.
Tea was fries and some blue grenadier fish I’d brought, frozen, from home.
After the usual morning walk with Couey, I drove to the shops to get the Saturday papers.
We gave Couey a stick session in the lake.
Now that’s enthusiasm…
Decided to stay an extra two days here. We are enjoying exploring the area and just relaxing. The dog is adoring a lake in her backyard. So, no rush to move on. I walked up to the office and extended our stay.
The owners had had a rough night, they said, courtesy of a group of farm workers, who they had staying in a cabin – the closest one to the office and house. They had been drinking and being rowdy until 3am. The owners had gotten up to try to control them, several times. This morning, some of the men were trying to fix a window they’d damaged. They were drinking again (still?). One said he’d drive to the hardware store for materials they needed, but the park owner said he would drive them. I thought he was being much more responsible about their welfare than the men deserved. The lady owner said she would really like to evict them, but if she did, they had nowhere else to stay and the local farmers’ schedules would be seriously disrupted. Owning a caravan park really can have its down sides!
John and I walked Couey along the lake front as far as the metal sculptures. These were done by the local Mens Shed. I thought they were wonderful.
Fish sculpture by the lake
John left at 1.30 to drive out to the Spanner Man tour. I had been able to get through by phone this morning and book him in for that. I’d decided I did not feel like something that would involve a lot of standing around, and that Couey and I would thus be better off at camp.
There was a cold wind blowing this morning, During the day it clouded over and became increasingly windy. So much so that, while John was away, I thought I should lower the awning. I dropped it down so the edge was just below head height and that seemed to lessen the flapping around to an acceptable level. I wanted to keep it sheltering the door area, if possible, to keep the grass dry from dew and maybe rain.
Windy day
The wind made the day very cold so I stayed in Bus, reading the papers.
It was almost 5pm when John got back. He said the tour was well worth the $10 charge. They were shown around a large garden that contained many large sculptures constructed out of spanners. These were sourced from clearing sales and the like, but also new from stores. Apparently the local hardware chain had a really good special on spanners recently, and the Man bought several thousand! He was wheelchair bound and had not been well, do there had not been much recent output.
Spanner Man
Looking at John’s photos, the sculptures are amazing. One would admire the movement and fluidity captured, in any sculptural medium, but to think this is done with spanners…
Netballer made from spanners
Marlin in gardens at the Spanner Man’s
Frill necked lizard and tree
Cowboy
The tour also looked at some large aviaries in the grounds. John was really taken by the exotic macaws, but especially by the Gouldian Finches. Despite some dedicated searches over the years, at places like Mornington in the Kimberley, and Pungalina in the Gulf Country, we had never managed to see these finches in the wild, where they are really rare. They are fairly commonly kept as aviary birds, though.
Gouldian Finches
The Australian Wildlife Conservancy has done a lot of research into the decline of these finches in the wild, at their Mornington property in particular. The conclusion is that these seed eating finches are severely disadvantaged by the hot, uncontrolled fires of the late Dry season, that totally destroy thousands of hectares at a time. Before European pastoralism, the aboriginals did early Dry season burning, which was not so destructive, and which tended to burn more limited areas, in a kind of mosaic pattern. This reduced fire fuel and prevented many of the bad late season fires, and conserved large swathes of vegetation for the wildlife. So AWC has run a campaign to get the current pastoralists of the Kimberley to adopt this type of burning, with some pretty impressive results to date, in terms of species recovery.
Tea was chicken noodle soup, followed by cheese omelettes. I tried a short cut, and instead of grating tasty cheddar cheese, just put Kraft cheddar slices on top, before folding over. That was really yummy – much nicer than the usual way. John had baked beans with his omelette, too.
Watched football on TV. I faded early again, as I tend to do when we are camping, so took myself off to bed about 9pm.
We slept in a little this morning. It turned into a lovely day, after a chilly early morning.
After breakfast, did some ball throwing with the dog, on a grassy area in front of some empty cabins, down at the end of the park. Then, she ignored my commands (pleas?) and took herself off into the lake for a wallow in the water. A wet tummy is heaven! Later, since she was already wet, John threw a stick into the water for her, a few times. She loves that game. Her retrieval is a bit hit and miss, though, which is why we don’t use a ball.
A local attraction was the Spanner Man’s display. I’d been told at the office that one needed to book ahead for a tour of that. I tried to phone. There was no answer and the message machine informed that they did not take messages, and to try again later. Hmmm – not a very customer friendly way to do business.
After all that, we got rather a late start to go off for a drive. I thought we were just going to go north for a little way and maybe check out the location of the Spanner Man’s premises. However, once headed out, John kept going – all the way to Quambatook.
Apart from a fairly large area of grain storage – heaps covered by blue plastic sheeting – we found the place a rather sad and battling little town. As with many such towns these days, a number of closed-down businesses indicated that it had once been larger and more significant in the area. Now, there was a General Store rather than a supermarket, and it was combined with the Post Office.
Given the huge grain storage area, I did wonder about the mouse population of the area?
Grain storage at Quambatook
We explored a couple of roads outwards for a little way, as John likes to do, then headed west, to Dumosa, then the Calder Highway and Wycheproof. This was interesting enough travel, through sheep and grain country. It was fairly flat, but there was some variety. Also, some irrigation channels.
I saw a decent sized brown snake, sunbaking on the road a short way ahead of the car. John didn’t see it at all. Observant driver! I made some sort of “Oh, look out” comment. I think we missed it? John turned the car around to go and have a look, but it had gone. At least, I hoped it had, and wasn’t up under the car somewhere! Imagination is not always an asset.
Later, back in Boort, we heard talk that there had been lots of brown snakes around. I would have expected, with the cold nights now, that they would be in hibernation, but supposed that autumn mice were still around the grain areas and this was an incentive to stay out and about longer.
At Wycheproof, I went to the IGA supermarket to get some fruit and ended up buying other produce too. It seemed fresher and more recently replenished than the stocks at Boort.
Gave Couey a comfort walk for a little way, then put her back in the car.
Wycheproof is a town where the railway line runs down the centre of the main street – the highway. I would love to be there when a train actually came through. There were no fences or barriers – the onus is on drivers and pedestrians to watch out. I suspect that any train that does come through does so very slowly.
Wonder if they have a lollipop person on the train crossing too?
The time was getting on, so we went to buy lunch at a good-looking establishment. Bakery on Broadway. (Broadway is the actual name of the main street through town, despite it also being the Calder Highway). John chose a sausage roll and a cheese and vegemite scroll. He could not resist buying a Boston Bun – for tea. I had a very yummy ham and salad roll. We had coffees too. Sat in their outside dining area and ate. We noted this place for future travel, as an excellent place to stop to buy lunch.
Wycheproof seemed to be another small town that was rejuvenating itself, having somehow an active, more vibrant air about it. I guess being on the highway helps, but not all towns so located have managed to turn that to advantage. Anyway, great bakery, with modern product lines.
The Broadway Wycheproof
Back to the car. Turned off the highway, for Boort. On the edge of Wycheproof, passed Mt Wycheproof which, at about 43 metres, is the smallest registered mountain in the world! Now that’s a question for Trivial Pursuit…
Coming in to Boort, passed through a dry swamp area, part of a real complex of lakes and swamps around the town. We also passed burning off grain stubble. Yesterday, from the caravan park, we’d seen the smoke from that.
Boort swamp
Our “little drive” turned out to be about 200kms! John’s “little adventures” have become notorious in our circle. We might be adding to the legend.
John had a nap. I walked Couey along the lake front, past the boat ramp, playground, BBQ’s, and the sports area, as far as some parkland that had a couple of intriguing metal sculptures – of a redfin fish and a large bird.
Metal shag by the lake at BoortVery clever…Detail of the sculpture of a fish
There was also an historic pump engine on display – used for irrigation water pumping. I’d had no prior idea that there was irrigation in these parts.
The walk took me along the Federation Walk – a paved path that featured a plaque for every Prime Minister since Federation in 1901. It had not been updated since Kevin Rudd’s first term, though.
Boort had really done this lakefront precinct well. There were a couple of seating arrangements, obviously done by the Spanner Man. One was a tall, stand-alone sort of sculptured column, with smooth seats around it. The other was arranged around the base of a tree. Brilliant concepts and workmanship. Each piece used a hell of a lot of spanners!
Tea was chicken noodle soup and the Boston Bun.
Watched football on TV. I couldn’t stay awake and was in bed and asleep well before the game finished.
It was certainly a frosty night. The sheets covering the windscreens were quite stiff when removed.
Left the park at 10.10am, having slept later than intended. So easy on these cold mornings to snuggle under the doona and think “just a few more minutes.”
Today was the shared birthday of son and his wife, turning 43 today. I texted them birthday wishes as we drove along. We’d given them their present last Sunday – a two-person dining table they’d wanted John to make for them.
Travelled north west along the Calder Highway. Another advantage of the lovely Marong park was that, for north-west travellers, it was already beyond the Bendigo city traffic and maze of roads.
The day was sunny, with blue sky. Quite pleasant inside Bus.
A lot of the little towns in this region date from the gold rush days of over a century ago and usually have some remaining buildings typical of the consolidation era that followed the immediate rushes. Some towns are doing better than others, these days, though. Clearly, some are capitalizing on tourism through the region.
The Loddon River at Bridgewater on Loddon was very full.
On that town’s outskirts was the array of curved mirrored parabolas of the solar farm. These collected and concentrated solar energy for feed in to the power grid. That, at least was the theory, when this experimental array opened in 2012. It was closed down in 2015, not because the technology was faulty, but because of politicking around issues like feed-in tariffs and renewable energy subsidies. Presumably, it would not take much to get the array working again, if governments and the power businesses could get their acts together. Not for the first time, I reflected that democracies are not the most efficient systems of government.
The array looked like something from outer space. Alien.
The main street of Inglewood had some of the old, two-storeyed buildings that date from the nineteenth century. A claim to fame of this town is being the birthplace of Sir Reginald Ansett, founder of Ansett Airlines, for a long time one of the two main domestic airlines in Australia.
Inglewood
The distilling of eucalyptus oil, from local blue mallee gums, began at Inglewood about a century ago and the area is still a major source of this product, with a museum about it in the town.
There were far too many trucks on the Calder Highway. We really should have a serious campaign to get goods moved by train again. So many roads are deteriorating so quickly. Temporary fixes do little to improve road quality or, indeed, safety. Surely, overall, the costs of our reliance on road transport are so much greater, when one factors in ongoing rates and taxes spent on roads, plus related road deaths and casualties?
On the subject of railways, I decided that I do not like the angled railway crossings of these parts. It is very hard for the driver of a car – let alone a vehicle like our Bus – to check the rail line when it comes in at an acute angle from behind, to the left. There are bells and lights on the crossings along this highway, but even so…
I was on a mission today. My family history research had finally unearthed some information about a rather mysterious great grandfather. He was the only ancestor of that generation about whom I’d been able to find nothing, for several years. He clearly existed, having fathered several children, amongst them my grandfather, but how and when he appeared in Tasmania, whether it was of his free will or otherwise, and ditto disappeared again, had no documentary trail at all, that I could find.
In recent months, I seemed to have found him, with a different surname, as a newly married assisted immigrant to SA, in 1848. The trail next revealed him in gold rush Melbourne, having apparently left wife and children behind in the new settlement of Adelaide, and marrying my grandmother in 1852. Apparently, he was rather flexible with his vital details of name and birthdate, using a couple of variants. Who knows to what extent this was deliberate, or the result of the literacy deficiencies common in those times. I suspect he was well endowed with cunning, though, if not principles.
This second family, now using his middle name as surname, relocated to Tasmania – the young Deloraine area – in the mid 1850’s. But then he disappeared from records there, seemingly in the late 1860’s. My imagination had him amongst the numbers of men who simply disappeared in the often harsh conditions of backwoods Tasmania of those times.
But now I had discovered him, dabbling with gold seeking, bigamy and marrying yet again – back under his original birth name – at Inglewood in the late 1870’s. He died near Wedderburn in 1896.
Mt Korong – mentioned in found recordsof ancestor
I wondered how many of his numerous descendants from the offspring of his three marriages, are aware of the existence of three family lines? I had never heard any talk that suggested the Tasmanian branch knew of same. In fact, no-one ever seemed to know anything much about him, at all.
Today, I wanted to visit the Wedderburn Cemetery, where he and his third “wife” are, according to death records, interred in Plot 160 of the Church of England section. I was hoping for a grave marker, and information, and to photograph the grave.
Wonder if my ancestor walked – or farmed – around here?
We drove straight to the cemetery, out on the Boort road. There was an area where John could park Bus, at the front, so we did that and walked in. In my naivety, assumed I had enough information to find the grave. Located the Church of England section, and we searched every headstone and grave marker in it. Couey free ranged and had a lovely time. There were signs that lots of rabbits roamed here, so she had lots of fascinating smells to follow.
Church of England section
The Wedderburn Cemetery was a lot bigger than I had anticipated!
Only part of Wedderburn Cemetery
I was put out to discover there are no plot numbers on the headstones and grave markers. Nor was there any apparent chronological sequence to sites. Not sure what the cemetery equivalent is of needle in a haystack.
A lot of headstones to read!
Spent about an hour, searching. No mention of Daniel or Annie anywhere that I could see. It got quite hot, and my back began to really hurt. So we did what I should have been smart enough to do, in the first place, and drove back into town, to the Information Centre. The two ladies there seemed a bit disconcerted when I asked if they had a map of the cemetery, but very helpfully phoned the Secretary of the Cemetery Trust, and reported that he would meet us out there. Wonderful service!
Drove back out, and the man arrived soon after. He had the same information as I’d found online, but in original copy format. He explained that Daniel was buried in the “public” section of that area – i.e. for poorer people. That figured! He also explained that his neat map of the layout bore no resemblance the reality on the ground. Really?
Back in 1896, such public section graves were allowed a three foot width and there were not to be any headstones, fences, markers or the like. However, in the intervening hundred plus years, the grave standard moved to a four foot width, and some people began to fence or edge their ancestors’ graves, and put in headstones, encroaching on the neighbouring graves as they did so. The multiplier effects of this account for present confusions.
Our helper knew there was no marker for the grave we sought, but by locating the “neighbours” was able to lead us to a mound of earth that was – probably and approximately – Plot 160.
Great grandad in that central mound? Approximately?
A local historian also arrived, and came to talk to us, giving more information about the general burial practices of the time. There seemed to be a degree of competition between the two men. The Secretary checked his copies of the records and said that Plot 173 had originally been recorded as Daniel’s grave, but that had been crossed out and 160 put in. Who knows what really went on?
So we went to another mound of earth that was approximately 173, nearby. I took photos of both.
Or under this one?
It seemed there was no more information to be gained here – and no helpful headstones.
John arranged to meet the historian at his place, after we’d had some lunch. The man was going to check his files at home to see if he had any further information.
Back in town I walked to a bakery and bought a pie for John and a toasted Mediterranean focaccia for me, and coffees. $23. Very nice lunch, I thought.
The historian was waiting outside his place for us. He had nothing on Daniel, but had found an original death notice for Annie, and a local newspaper write-up of her funeral in 1912. He had records of the graves in the nearby Woosang cemetery, showing a number of people descended from the only child of that third marriage, a daughter.
So, it seemed that I had a number of distant part-cousins living around the Woosang and Charlton areas. With what I now knew about our ancestor-in-common, I doubt they would be interested in meeting me! Given that Daniel’s daughter from his first wife – the one abandoned in SA – had about ten children, there must also be any number of others in SA! All very interesting, but frustrating. Wish I could go back in time and talk with some of these people.
I was really grateful to the two Wedderburn men who gave up their time and tried so hard to help.
Wedderburn
2pm when we left Wedderburn to continue on to Boort. It was a pleasant drive, through sheep and grain growing country, some of it irrigated, which surprised me.
Booked into the Boort Lakes Caravan Park. $35 a night. Our site was excellent – on thick grass, backing on to the Little Boort Lake, and in the centre of a group of about ten such sites. It was not far to a small amenity block – older demountable style one. The main one was a bit further away. We had a shade tree next to us.
The park reminded me, for some reason, of the one at Copi Hollow, near Menindee, in that it mostly consisted of permanent holiday cabins and structures built around caravans, with just a couple of fairly small sections for travellers like ourselves. With a boat launching ramp next door, and a water ski club, the lake was obviously a summer holiday playground for the region. Like Copi Hollow, it was very pleasant in this “off” season, but I would not want to be here in the summer holidays, or at Easter.
Boort Lake
This was a great park for the dog! As the nearby cabins were not occupied, there were plenty of grassy places where we could throw the ball for her. There was a walking path from the park, through adjacent parkland and on around the lake. This was a 3.7km circuit, so the lake was bigger than our local Lilydale Lake. And, of course, there was the water for a splosh about in, whenever sneaky dog could manage it. I got out my supply of dog drying towels!
After set up, drove to the shopping centre, for milk and bananas. Can’t be without the latter, because dog expects at least half a one, each morning. John went of to the hardware store and bought a hair dryer – for use on said dog.
Boort seemed a pleasant little town. IGA supermarket. Newsagent. Hardware store. A couple of hotels, and so on. Their civic provisions were certainly excellent, with tennis courts and a bowls club part of the extensive parkland area.
We sat outside, enjoying the sunshine. Dog “persuaded” John to throw a stick in the water for her to retrieve. Then we had to tie her up in the sun to start to dry. There proved to be no way that hair dryer was going to get anywhere near her. Given her dislike of being air dried at the dog groomers’ I was not surprised. Looked like grand daughter would be receiving an unexpected gift – one hair dryer, surplus to requirements.
This will do very nicely…
A local teenager came past, walking a dog that proved to be a kelpie/koolie cross – beautiful creature and incredibly well trained. Her obedience put our girl to shame. The lass stayed and talked with us for a while – didn’t seem to want to go. When a van pulled on to the next site, she stayed talking with them, too.
After the late lunch, we only wanted soup for tea, so I heated up a tin of pea and ham variety.
The night was chilly, but not as cold as Marong had been.
Inside Bus was really cold, this morning. I turned on the fan heater before getting dressed and taking Couey out for her morning walk around the park. At least, one of us would be emerging into a warm room.
There was ice on the front window of the Terios!
Ice on the car!
After breakfast, texted daughter to say we would not go, as invited, to tea with them tonight, because it was going to be too cold. I said we preferred to stay in and keep Bus warm. Also, there had been preliminary warnings about possible black ice on the roads tonight. She replied that she’d bring the boys out for a while, after school, and that she would also bring us two serves of her spag bol. Nice of her.
John slept late and then spent the day messing about with the laptop, tablet and hot spot stuff. He had a long call with a support person at Telstra. I read, in Bus. It was too chilly to sit outside. Occasionally took Couey for a walk around the park.
Cold day at the caravan park, despite the sunshine
Daughter and boys arrived about 4pm. She came equipped with the boys’ afternoon tea, too, because I don’t have crisps and biscuits stocked in my travelling pantry. We sat outside and chatted while they snacked. Then John took dog and young J up the back for doggy ball games. I chatted with A about his hopes to go on a school trip to Indonesia next year – an incentive for him to keep up the language study.
I mentioned that we were considering going to Boort next, a place we had never visited. Daughter had friends who were the new owners of the caravan park there. She phoned them and booked us in for a good site, for two nights, onto what she said was the best site. The family has one or two weekends there every year, so we were happy to have her arrange our booking.
Pretty callistemon by our site
By 6pm it was really cold again, and time for the family to leave. We walked them up to the car park at the front of the park.
I draped one of the dog bed sheets across the Teriod windscreen, to prevent an ice build up again tonight. John covered up the Bus front windscreen, too.
Tea was the last of the cucumber soup from home, and daughter’s spag bol, which was really nice. She had even brought a little bag of grated parmesan with it!
Watched some TV. It was another freezing night and I was really glad we were in the warm Bus.
Although it was first night back on the Bus beds for a while, we slept well – and until 8.45am, in my case.
There was some sunshine about, although it was still cold.
Marong site
I did the usual morning routine with dog – a walk around the park, on the lead. There were lots of lovely, fresh overnight, rabbit smells to explore. She was meandering along on the lead, nose down and sniffing, when she was rushed at by two madly barking Pom type dogs who came racing out from one of the cabins. They were not on leads. A woman raced out after them, still in her nightie. She was apologetic, but as far as I was concerned, she should not have let them out unchecked, in the first place.
Couey only ever wants to run away from aggressive little dogs, so she was happy to retreat back to Bus, and her breakfast.
Obviously, this park has a cabin available for dog owners. I noticed later, there was a little kennel and a water bowl outside, even after the lady with the little yappers had left. It is really great to see caravan parks begin to cater for dog owners in this way.
It was too chilly to eat breakfast outside. After eating, I read for a while, then started crocheting my newest project – a rug, in autumn tones.
John slept in till about 11am. After his breakfast, he walked Couey up to the back section of the park for an off lead ball chase.
Outlook from our site
My phone had gone flat, again, as it was doing with increasing frequency. Clearly, it needed a new battery. As we were to go meet daughter at her place about 2pm, there was not really time to go chasing all over Bendigo looking for same.
Daughter was having a week of leave – well timed for us. When we arrived, she had just returned from collecting an ailing son from school, apparently with a migraine headache. He was sick and then started to feel better.
The household had a whippet dog, quite a timid little girl. We brought Couey into the back yard to see how the two might get on. After the mandatory sniffing of nether regions, Couey just wanted to explore the yard, with whippet following her around, seeming a bit mystified by this large black creature that had appeared. There was a very secure dog pen in their yard, built because whippet and her now-dead brother were great escape artists in storms. Once we’d gone into the house, Couey wanted in, too, and added her scratches to those already on the sliding door. So it was into the pen for them both. Couey barked and howled.
Left dog in the pen and went with daughter to collect the five year old from school. Daughter had not told either boy we were in town, so us being at the school pick up was meant to be a surprise for young J. However, he spied us through a window and, as soon as he saw his mum, announced to her: “Grandma and Grandad John are here!” As if she didn’t know. Then, he was adamant that we be introduced to his Principal, who was seeing students off, and the boy’s teacher.
We were most impressed that said Principal already knew the boy by name, obviously for good reasons. The school – a different one from where the older lad went – was new, modern and very nice.
Daughter took us to a Telstra shop, which could not help with a new phone battery for me, but suggested a place in the town centre. While we were talking to the Telstra man, little Mr Confident carted John off to look at a games shop. Bought some wine for tonight, then were taken into town to the phone shop, where I was able to get a battery for my Samsung.
Back at daughter’s place, Couey was still barking in protest, but was still in the pen. I hadn’t quite trusted her not to try to climb out.
We had a good look over the caravan the family had bought, before Xmas. We’d had a hand in the purchase because the van, an older Jayco, had been for sale near our home. My son had inspected it, as we had, and pronounced it a fair buy within their limited budget. Every summer, the family spends a month camping at Narrawong, and they do other smaller more local trips through the year. Their tent camping gear had seemed to radically increase each year, especially after the arrival of young J. They’d bought an enclosed trailer to transport it all, but packing, setting up and the like was increasingly onerous. The caravan had been intended to make all that so much easier and had been a success on the most recent summer holiday. They had done a lot of small things to improve the van, and it was these we had to inspect.
Had a very nice meal with the family. A had just about recovered from his migraine. Daughter’s partner came home from work, and her mother came to see us as well. Young J was not going to let his new captive audience of Grandad John get away, without being much read to, and talked to – non-stop. The boy’s reading was most impressive, after only a few months at school, and apparently his understanding of numbers was “freaky”.
Daughter cooked chicken Kiev’s, corn, squashed potatoes, and a very nice tomato, zucchini and cheese bake. There was apple pie for afters, too.
Couey eventually stopped the barking. I think she ran out of voice. I felt a bit mean after the whippet was brought inside and Couey had to stay in the pen. . But the whippet was very quiet and well behaved and just curled up on her bed and stayed there. Couey would have been exploring everywhere and annoyed us – and shed fur too, over their always immaculate house.
We left about 8.30pm – bedtime for school children. It was really cold.
Back at the Bus, the fan heater did not make much headway against the chill that had built up. I went to bed early, to get warm!
That had been a really pleasant afternoon and evening.
There had been a rather leisurely preparation and pack for this short trip, in amongst tests, scans and appointments. With the news that a necessary specialist appointment would not be until May 17, we had a clear fortnight – and were away!
John was up early and sent the dog in to wake me at 8am. Crude, but effective. 28 kilos of dog doing a flying leap onto the bed, than going into the so-happy-to-see-you routine, is impossible to ignore.
All organized, dog on board, house locked up, Terios on back, we drove off down our street at 10.15 am. A couple of hundred metres along, John managed to collide Bus with a large green wheely bin, fortunately empty. It was minding its own business on the nature strip, but he was trying to activate one of his dashboard gadgets and strayed from the road. There was a most impressive noise, and bin bounced off, somewhere. Obviously, our solid bull bar was not going to be injured, and he did not stop to check on the welfare of the bin. According to John, it had no right to still be out there, since collection day was last Friday.
The day was cloudy and cool.
Took our usual route via Yarra Glen, Yea, Seymour, Heathcote.
There is a property between Coldstream and Yarra Glen that I always look at with interest. Once it used to have alpacas grazing but now there were very handsome sheep, with black faces and legs. I don’t know the breed, but they are much more attractive than the standard variety plain white sheep.
Topped up the fuel, as usual, at the Glenburn servo, where there is plentiful room to get the rig in. $1.149 cpl for diesel.
Stopped at the old railway station rest area at Yea – mainly for a comfort stop for the dog. We walked her across into the area that once was tracks, and let her have a run. Ungrateful creature! There was one small patch of mud where a tap was dripping and, of course, she found it – and wallowed in it before either of us could reach her. I swear the look on her face meant something like “I know you are cross with me – but it was worth it!” I’d gone to the trouble and expense, last week, of taking her to the grooming service at the Animal Aid, for a bath, so we would have less of a doggy smell about the place. Now there was a distinct swampy doggy ambience.
Old railway station Yea
After Yea, there were some encouraging patches of blue sky appearing to the north.
Next stop was Heathcote, for lunch from the bakery there. John took dog for another walk, firmly on the lead, while I did the buying. A pastie and sausage roll for John – he had been looking forward to the yummy pastries from here, for days. Egg and lettuce sandwich for me, a couple of coffees and a pumpkin and garlic scroll to have with tonight’s soup. $29 in all. Supporting small town economies…
I had been coming through Heathcote regularly, over the fifteen years that daughter had been living in Bendigo and had noticed how much this small, historic, Goldfields town has revitalized in that time – much of it due to the impact of tourists.
1.30pm when we left Heathcote for the last leg to Marong. Good timing as far as making our way through Bendigo before school traffic time.
John was happy with the feel of the new clutch. He had feared it would be very stiff, but not so. The gear changing seemed smoother and easier.
Lake Eppalock must have been really full as Mt Ida Creek, just to the west of Heathcote, was overflowing its banks. This links to the Lake and I can’t remember seeing it this full, here, before.
Our Garmin, with me carefully checking its instructions against my paper map, took us on the through traffic route that skirts the centre of Bendigo. It involved a few turns and the need to be in the correct lane in advance, but was not too hard.
Arrived at the Big 4 Marong Holiday Park at 2.30 and were allocated en-suite site 1, the same as we occupied last time here. We would be comfortable. The site cost $37.80, after discount.
I had not let daughter know we were going to be in the area until we were actually on our way, given how things had been going for us, lately. We decided not to actually meet up with them until tomorrow, because John wanted to nap for a while and then see if he could get his newest tablet working as a mobile hot spot/modem for the internet for our laptops.
Both ventures were successfully accomplished. I relaxed on my bed, and read.
Tea was cucumber soup brought from home, some slices of cold roast beef left from the weekend roast, and the scroll, which was very nice eating.
After tea, rain started and lasted for most of the very chilly night, but we were snug and cosy in Bus.
I succumbed to another round of the mysterious allergy that had sometimes affected me in recent times so tests and treatments were needed. As well, a new leg ulcer had developed. I was starting to think the two might be linked somehow. So medical stuff delayed us through the rest of April.
Last year, we had set out to explore some of the Victorian goldfields region, but did not get as far as we’d planned, running home ahead of the deluge that flooded some of the places we’d been heading for.
Part of that trip was to have allowed John to visit the site of the second one-teacher school he’d had in his early career – Boolite. So, we could try again for that. It would work in nicely with visiting some of the rather new phenomenon of the painted grain silos of the Wimmera region, which I was curious to see.
In my somewhat stop-start forays into researching my ancestry, had recently discovered that a hitherto – and apparently twice bigamous – great-grandfather was buried in the Wedderburn Cemetery, I wanted to visit that to see if his grave could be found. It might throw some light on his life subsequent to totally disappearing from Tasmania around the time of grandfather’s birth, about 1865. His use of two different surnames had obscured the facts for a while, too.
A middle name that could double as a surname was useful!
So there were the bones of a short swing through the Wimmera and our first trip for 2017. It would also be the first outing of Bus since the new clutch was installed, late last year.
Later in the year, we would probably need to revisit Canberra and John’s family there – maybe even get in a couple of visits, as they would be off overseas on another posting, next year.
The north coast of NSW beckoned, too. The area around Coffs Harbour was a favourite two-week school holiday destination, in our working days. There was so much of that coast, from Newcastle north, that we had not really explored.
So, still no shortage of ideas about where to go.
We issued an invite for friend M, recently back from a few weeks exploring New Zealand, to accompany us. But she thought she’d be too busy planning her coming jaunt to Paris and England.
With autumn’s onset, our thoughts – well, mine – turned seriously to this year’s travels.
Back in summer, we’d talked about doing a 3 or 4 month trip this year, to be away through the worst of the Melbourne winter.
A friend, actually former boss from one of our working holidays, was now based at Dimbulah in Far North Qld. We had been reading his latest book – Camp 64 – the story of his 2011-2012 solo walk from Camooweal to Birdsville following the Georgina River system, and using goats as pack animals. This sparked the idea of heading north again, visiting some places we had yet to see, and maybe calling in to have a yarn at Dimbulah.
The cover of Owen’s latest book
With that in mind, I had started a serious hunt for house sitters. The length of time was too great for the as-hoc arrangements we’d had for the past few years.
I e-mail contacted some fifteen sitters advertising on the housesitters site we’d used years before. To no avail. Some were already booked but had not updated their ads. Others really did not want to be in Victoria in winter. Couldn’t blame them for that. So I put in my own ad for house sitters wanted, specifying a mature-aged couple, with no pets. I already knew, from past experience, that we would get replies from any number of younger, single people, often with both children and pets. And thus it proved.
We are not as prejudiced as people might think, from the above. Although our swimming pool is fenced, we simply do not want to take the risk of having children living here that we are not supervising ourselves. Some of our carpets never fully recovered from the less than house trained dog that our home minding son had, years ago. So – no pets, no kids.
After replying “Thanks, but no thanks” in effect, to a number of people, I was left with three possibilities. All had the added benefit that they were already around Melbourne, so we could meet in person to discuss the role. Theoretically, anyway. One lot proved very difficult to pin down, with several broken appointment times, and in the end I jettisoned that one as too unreliable to bother with.
Then, I thought we’d found a very suitable couple. We’d met here, they had seen the place and were keen. We arranged the date for them to move in here and thus for us to be away on our travels. Then came the news that the owners of their current sit wanted to stay overseas for another three months, so they would not be available after all. Damn.
Then, the final possible phoned to say they had just accepted a sit that started earlier and went longer than ours, which suited them better. That phone call came an hour after we were due to meet here for afternoon tea. The scones went into the freezer.
I couldn’t face starting the whole rigmarole all over again. So North Qld was off the agenda. It was more my idea than John’s anyway. It would just have to be more of the shorter trips, where leaving the house wouldn’t be an issue.
We started to make tentative plans for the first of these to be after the Easter school holidays, in mid-April this year. Threw some destination ideas around.
This Adventurous Age 