We only stayed beside the Snowy one night, as we want to get to Melbourne with plenty of time to clean up and sell the caravan before we fly home in three weeks’ time.

The banks on the lower reaches of the river are being restored by an enthusiastic local group – the full title of the project is “Snowy River Warm Temperate Rainforest Restoration” .  About six cleared areas have been left for overnight caravan/motorhome parking, which I’m sure many people including us appreciate. This sign tells the story.

 The Snowy finally empties into the sea just a little further on from our camp …. it was amazing to think that a year ago we were high up in the Snowy Mountains near where the river has its source, and also how this mighty river helped shape post-war Australia.

Driving back towards Marlo and Orbost, along roads lined with flowering wattle ….

…we spotted quite a few black plastic-wrapped hay bales (“liquorice marshmallows for baby dinosaurs”?) and then came upon these:

Orbost is only a little town but it was a proud history. Naturally that includes some severe flooding! This is the main flood monument.  

There is also a rather nice and warm little information centre, a reconstruction of an early settler’s stringy bark hut. With two resident geese.

We continued along the coast heading west to Lakes Entrance, where a number of very old trees have been transformed by chainsaw carving.

The town was very quiet, but it was easy to imagine how packed and bustling it is in summer, with hundreds of boats on the extensive waterways.

Dave’s panorama gives a better idea:

Following advice from a friendly local we bought our dinner direct from a fishing boat … possibly the last prawns of the season.

That evening we camped on private land just outside Bairnsdale. After playing ball with the resident dog, who was even more persistent  than our Penny, we feasted on guess what as we watched the sunset.

I forgot to include this photo of the rocks at north Ulladulla in my last blog, such a pretty colour. There was a seafood restaurant and aquarium just above the rocks but it was late afternoon by the time we found this place, and we were due back at Helen and John’s for another feast.

After leaving Merimbula, heading for the south-east coast of Victoria, before we knew it we were through Eden (which we’d visited last year) and at Genoa. Turning left the long winding road took us through bushland to magical Mallacoota, a small holiday and fishing town, with its view of distant Gabo Island. (Yes, you are right, there is a spot on my camera lens which can’t be removed #@$#!!). 

I wanted to see Gabo Island again, even if only from a distance. When the good ship  ‘Cornelius’ was circumnavigating Australia in 1980, we were stuck in Wineglass Bay on the Freycinet Peninsula of Tasmania for some days, waiting for a strong northerly wind to abate. We finally left the Bay on a beautiful morning in a reasonable southerly which took us to the middle of Bass Strait and then abandoned us to a very blustery northerly. Huge waves, wind and a general inability to make much headway north meant we could either head for Port Phillip Bay, which we didn’t want (right into Bass Strait in fact) or for Gabo Island just off Cape Howe, which marked the most easterly point of the mainland in that area. The Pilot Book told us to anchor in a specific area but after doing so and finding it far from ideal, we were visited by some fishermen who invited us to join the fishing fleet in another, much more sheltered area. Which we did, with many thanks. I don’t remember now if they kept us supplied with seafood during the 2-3 days we were stuck there, but most probably (!)  SO, Gabo Island is in a way an important, memorable part of my personal history.

I had to content myself with admiring Gabo from a distance; if we’d had more time we might have gone on a boat trip or two…?

The view in all directions from Mallacoota headland was simply splendid.

The whole headland overlooking the very narrow boat channel is a huge camping area, with at least 450 camping sites of various sizes all marked with numbered posts. Thankfully at that time of the year, mostly deserted.  We didn’t intend to stay there, but it was still hard to leave such a beautiful peaceful place (although I definitely wouldn’t want to be there at the height of the summer season).

Before leaving Mallacoota we inspected a jetty with its resident pelicans, and had lunch in one of the innumerable cafes.

We had no idea what was in store on the road, just that it stayed well inland rather than hugging the coast. Slowly it became clear. Most of the Victorian SE coast is National Park land, and the road winds up and up then down through what must be one of the southernmost parts of the Great Dividing Range, which stretches the length of Australia’s east coast. I started to wonder just how many times we had been up and down that Range. When at Moss Vale/Mittagong alone we must have done it six times! The Range reaches right up into northern Queensland; when we were based at Mareeba we also “did” the Range a number of times including by rail (the Kuranda scenic railway).  Then there was the lovely platypus country west of Mackay ….  and the Blue Mountains ….

That evening, having escaped the Range area, we camped beside the Snowy River between Orbost and Marlo. Another beautiful, peaceful spot.

Next morning….   

I first met Helen when we were Botany students at the University of NSW. She was captain of the University hockey team and at some stage when the second team were desperately in need of some extra players, I was dressed in someone’s uniform, given a hockey stick (for the first time ever!) and told to hit the ball ‘that way!!” For most of my school days I’d only played basketball as it was then called. I went on to play for the University for several years and we had some memorable games, not so much for the sport itself but for the weather which was sometimes so bad the hockey ball would get lost in the water covering the grounds.

Time passed on and our lives took very different turns, but converged again quite unexpectedly when ‘Cornelius’ was motoring along the Hawkesbury River heading back for Pittwater and caught up with a little sailing boat motoring in the same direction  …..with a madly waving Helen and John on board. (“My g… It’s Nancy!!”)

I went to their wedding …. and then years later they came to Dave’s and mine in NZ. That was 12 years ago. So it was a lovely reunion at their beautiful beach home near Bawley Point. Surrounded by acres of beach-bushland, there were plenty of kangaroos around including an albino which they’d christened Alby, but after close inspection of my photos that was changed to Alberta. (A Vet friend has confirmed: “There’s definitely a Joey there”).

There are fantastic views from all parts of the house, even from our bedroom at dawn:

It was only a short walk down to the beach, particularly beautiful in the evening light.

Bawley Point has a thriving Community spirit. Among other things there is a community garden. Does anyone know what this is?

A quick visit to nearby Ulladulla gave Dave some awesome surf shots:

We were wined and dined (including local prawns and oysters of course) for several wonderful days, then it was time to move on, heading for Merimbula and the camp where we stayed almost a year before.

As it is now the off-season I think the owner was very pleased to see us, and on being asked which was the best place in Merimbula for a birthday celebration, offered to be our chauffeur for the night. Here’s the birthday girl, looking a bit worse for wear…  that’s a gigantic affogatto in front of me. 

Leaving Merimbula next day we stopped at the Bodalla cheese factory for some coffee and bought an interesting Sage & Saltbush cheese….

…. then on to the heritage-listed little town of Central Tilba with its rows of interesting shops. The ‘Passionfish’ candle shop was fantastic; when I stepped inside the first thing I saw were rows and rows of soaps in rainbow colours, plus art on the wall, then in the next room a huge array of candles and candle-holders. Unfortunately my photos did not turn out well. Across the street was a leather shop where I finally bought a sorely needed belt and resisted with difficulty all the beautiful handbags and also alpaca jumpers. An antique jewellers had an amazing painted floor, somewhat marred …. everywhere were cottage gardens, books, coffee, clothing …..

We’d hoped to catch up with other friends who were touring with the Aston Martin Car Club, and finally did so in the historical little town of Candelo, about half an hour’s drive inland from Merimbula through beautiful south coast farming country. We’ll see them again in Melbourne.

During the last few weeks and indeed throughout our Australian touring I’ve been able to catch up with a number of old friends, some of whom I haven’t seen for many years. There are just two remaining, one in Melbourne and the other, sadly, a schoolfriend who sent me a short email saying “Sorry, flat out with grandkids” and that was that, even though we were in her area for six days and would have stayed longer if necessary. I’m very conscious that this may be the last time I see some of my friends. We are all into our seventies; several are over 80. Travel insurance is becoming so expensive that even the healthiest of us have second thoughts about long-distance travel.

From Moss Vale it was an easy run through Goulburn to Canberra. We headed straight for Julie and Allan’s in Hawker and as before parked Westy in their curved driveway,  moved into their enchanting, colourful home full of eclectic art works, and for the next two days were spoilt rotten.  If, in the future, anyone admires my tiny shortbread custard kisses, they can thank Julie for giving me the recipe.

We wanted to avoid Anzac Day’s attendant traffic and heightened security, so did not stay in Canberra nearly as long as we would have wished. We did however manage to fit in a visit to an amazing craft and food market in the city,. The chocolate coated strawberries were at least 5 cm (2 inches) long.

Sugar cane, anyone? Just take some home.

Young Australian Beanball trees.  ‘Castanospermum australe’, also known as the Moreton Bay Chestnut.  I’ve never seen them grown like this before. A quick Google search reveals:

* The leaves and seeds are toxic to livestock.
* Due to its extensive root system, it should not be planted within 10 metres of drainage lines, sewers, house foundations, garages or swimming pools.

The Black Bean has also proved valuable as a timber species, it’s seeds have been utilized – following extensive preparation as a food by Aborigines and it contains alkaloids which have been shown to have anti-HIV and anti -cancer properties.

In the nearby Glass Centre we watched a master glassblower making an impossibly large and delicate vase, assisted by a very efficient assistant; it was a pleasure to watch two people working so well together.

Here the assistant is blowing down a pipe as the master keeps the vase in rotation.

Forming the delicate neck.

Here the assistant is well rugged up ready to transfer the vase with both asbestos-clad hands to the oven where it will gradually cool down.  I tried to capture the moment the vase was broken off from the rod holding it, but the movement was too quick.

Heading south for the coast next day, we wondered if we were in Otago.

We stopped at Braidwood to see an amazing display of bespoke furniture at what is called simply the Wood Shop/Factory. As you walk in you are confronted by this simply stunning cabinet:

Crafted by Geoff Hannah, it too six and a half years to make “….. using 34 different Australian and international timbers, 4 species of shell and 17 varieties of precious stone with extensive marquetry inlays on 18 doors and on, and in, 140 drawers. “ Hannah lives in Lismore and by a lucky coincidence the cabinet was due to be returned to him about the time there was severe flooding of the region; if the cabinet had been returned any earlier it would most likely have been severely damaged or lost.

Here are two hall tables which I loved, only about $8,000 each ….

And other smaller objects including left and right handed bread knives ….

Wimsical ‘feet’ …

Floor lamps …

Upstairs there were two special exhibitions:‘Spatial Curvature’ – fine furniture by Darren Oates, and  ‘The language of Light’ paintings by Rick Cochrane and Chan Dissanayake. I especially liked this watercolour by the latter. So simple yet appealing with wonderful technique. I learned watercolour at school but was never an artist, unlike my granddad.

By then we were hungry so what better than to have lunch in the little cafe next door, in an ivy-draped courtyard. The people at the next table, of course, were Kiwis!

Then on down the  mountain to Bateman’s Bay and then Bawley Point a little further north where old friends from university days were waiting for us.

Dave: We were cruising back to Moss Vale when Nancy happened to mention there was a railway museum at Thirlmere marked on the map. We decided to investigate the next day so we drove 40 K and arrived just in time to get a ride on the steam train. 20 minutes up from the museum station, change the engine around and 20 minutes back to the museum. Coal smoke, cinders, steam whistle. Bliss.

Actually this was a Dave Gibb Photo…   using Nancy’s camera!!

The ticket collector was loving his job!!

A brief halt while the engine was changed around.

Trainspotters (starting them young).

Beautifully restored engine originally built by The Hunslet Engine Co. Ltd. Leeds in 1913.

I managed to spend most of the day poring over some awesome steam engines, diesels, and rolling stock including two of the massive Beyer-Garrets articulated Locomotives. Nancy as usual raced around and was waiting impatiently for me by the time I was halfway through. This museum was dedicated to the New South Wales railway system and is a recent addition to the museum scene. With about 3 km of covered track there was room for lots of interesting exhibits as well as a roundhouse where extensive rebuilds and restoration of engines and rolling stock is taking place. Several of the steam and diesel locomotive are in running condition and more being worked on all the time.

Nancy: This is what turned me off – miles and miles of trains …..  but Dave was salivating.

Here’s something that intrigued me:

Also this mock-up of a mail delivery van:

Now for a few artistic pics (she said immodestly):

And a monster to top it all off… The Beyer-Garret

After a few days at Mittagong we moved on to the Showgrounds at Moss Vale. The autumn colours are becoming stronger and stronger (Bother traffic lights and tinted windscreens, they spoil the photos!).

The predominant tall hedge trees here are pencil pines, not the poplars of drier regions.

Everywhere was so green, including the Showgrounds.

The Showgrounds are obviously  rather old; generations of horses must have chewed on these stall railings.

One of the friendly locals

With the Easter holiday period over it was safe to venture forth again and (again) visit Fitzroy Falls, at the top of the range. There were several informative signs about the native animals to be found there; I loved this one about the platypus near an area that reminded us of the platypus country around Eungella near Mackay. 

The Fitzroy Falls:

More informative signs: wombat, lyrebird, and even one about the Wicked Banksia Men!

Wonderful views and gnarly old trees …

The view from various places along Mt. Gibraltar, overlooking Bowral. It was too hazy for good photos.

Another day we drove down to Wollongong to have lunch with my cousin Eleanor. (More prawns!) Afterwards we visited the headland where in 1880 cannons were placed to defend the port.

Back to Westy and a nice sunset at the Moss Vale showgrounds. Bother the arc lights.

I will leave it to Dave to tell about our visit to the magnificent Railways Museum at Thirlmere, some way north of Mittagong, in the next blog.  We have now been up and down the Great Dividing Range at least four times by several different routes, most of them exceedingly steep and twisty.  Without Westy in tow, thankfully.

We made a special trip down the mountain to visit the RAN’s Fleet Air Arm Museum outside Nowra. Quite a way outside in fact, we were beginning to wonder if we were on the right road.  Warning: Lots of aeroplane photos ahead!

Here are some of Dave’s photos of the aircraft at the Museum.  Fairey Gannet

Sea Venom Skyhawk TA-4G  Once owned by the RNZAF Skyhawk A-4G Grumman Tracker Anti-submarine Fairey Firefly Hawker Sea Fury    (One of my favourite Aeroplanes). Oh the Irony!!(Nancy:) The difference between the following two aircraft carriers was amazing. HMAS Sydney III (1948-1956) served during the Korean War. HMAS Melbourne II (c.1956-1967) was the last aircraft carrier to be in service. In 1964 she was involved in a tragic collision with HMAS Voyager II near Jervis Bay, in which 82 Voyager sailors lost their lives.

There were several early aircraft instruments matching the ones I have at home, originally used by my first husband’s father, Squadron Leader Bill Hoffmann, in WW2.

After the Nowra museum we drove around the coast towards Kiama, stopping at several small beaches and headlands ……

….. and visited the Kingsford Smith memorial at Gerringong. Unfortunately the view towards New Zealand was completely obscured by trees. Seven Mile beach was however visible. It must have been a very exciting time in January 1933.

Approaching Kiama, we investigated Bass Point where a large tanker ran aground in 1943. Nearby is the remains of a ship-loading facility. There was a quarry nearby so perhaps that is what it was for.

We were heading for the famed Kiama Blowhole, but when it became obvious it would take literally hours to get close, park the Jeep and then fight our way through the tourist hordes, we gave up.

That evening we met friends for dinner at Jamberoo, then returned to Westy via a different but no less steep and twisty route up the mountain. Through Bowral yet again; the autumn colours are a delight.

The Richmond Club caravan park had a 4-day stay limit so we were soon off again, heading for the NSW South Coast (Illawarra) via Campbelltown where I hoped to pay my respects to great-great-great-grandfather Hugh Vesty Byrne, a political convict who was freed on arrival,  in the historic cemetery next to St. John’s Roman Catholic church, one of the oldest churches in Australia. But I did not have the address of the church, and the Information Centre, when we finally found it, was closed. As we were towing a large caravan Dave was not at all inclined to drive around the town streets and we couldn’t just unhook and leave the caravan somewhere. So reluctantly we decided to press on. I had been to the cemetery in 2006 on the 200th anniversary of Hugh Vesty Byrne’s arrival in Australia, so it was not a huge disappointment to have to miss a second visit.

We had very foolishly neglected to book well ahead, it being the Thursday before Good Friday. The traffic on the Hume Highway was incredible, not helped by an accident some way ahead, four lanes inching along a metre or so a minute in a 110 km/hr zone.

We soon discovered via several helpful Apps that all the camping grounds around Kiama were fully booked up, and even many well away from the coast, eg at Berry. There was one which was near the highway but was not answering the phone; hopefully we left the congested highway and went there only to discover the campsite was closed. So on again as far as Mittagong where there WAS a campsite available.

As a footnote, when we arrived I could not find my glasses. After a quick search of jeep and caravan it was concluded that they had fallen out when we were inspecting the closed campground  earlier and trying to find another place … so we drove the 60 or so km back, did a thorough search of the roadside, found not a thing, so back to Mittagong and there were the glasses coyly hiding on the kitchen bench behind a curtain, where we had both searched previously. Just as well too as it seemed I had left my spare pair of glasses beind in NZ.  At least we did not have to drive quite as far back as we did when Dave dropped the caravan keys north of Mackay and we had to retrace our steps from near Eungella.

Spotted somewhere – “…plant a shade tree and then do something about it…” Errr – water it?

Once settled in camp, we began to explore the Southern Highlands area. Autumn colours were everywhere. This is an old church near Berrima. The little township was full to bursting with tourists so we did not linger that day but visited several days later.

We did however inspect Harpers Mansion, high on the hill overlooking Berrima and at first sight not particularly imposing. “The circa 1835 house is a fine example of a colonial Georgian residence and is furnished in period style”. Once derelict, it has been lovingly restored by the National Trust and was full of interesting things. What delighted me was that every room had a written description of all the room’s contents and their history, the sort of stuff that guides reel off effortlessly but which is usually quite lost on me. For example, the four-poster bed may have been comfortable with its multitude of mattresses, but was also probably full of fleas; a thinner mattress may have actually been more desirable.

Outside was a maze full of screaming children… and us! Eventually we managed to escape. There was also an extensive garden with many very old roses including several examples of the lovely white climber ‘Souvenir de la Malmaison’, first exhibited in 1893. Being late autumn of course the roses were well past their best. At the time the National Trust took over the house and grounds, the ‘garden’ was a paddock; the Trust employed a landscape gardener who lived in the house with his family for several years and gradually created the lovely garden there today. Lucky family.

We had a quick look at the famed Berrima courthouse and gaol but did not linger. I was hoping to see inside the courthouse but it has been taken over by a sort of continuous Son et Lumiere-style performance with, of course, an inflated entrance fee.

Another day we drove down the mountain range via the Kangaroo Valley to Nowra, going over the Hampden Bridge on the way. Almost identical to the bridge at Ophir in NZ. “Hampden Bridge is not only a remarkable example of Victoria engineering, but is also a unique demonstration to create an architecturally romanticised structure in a beautiful remote rural location.”  It was an important factor for the district’s development – “… Cobb & Co. coaches ran frequently, mail deliveries were easier, an Annual Show was organised…”  “…. It is still considered a vital link to facilitate the continued viability of the entire valley.”

Dave had long wanted to see the Naval Fleet Air Arm Museum outside Nowra. It did not disappoint, although the news that the cafe had closed and only vending machines were available was not welcome, and “…would we like to sign this petition asking for the cafe to be reopened…?“ We would and did.

Dave wants to add some photos so …… next blog!

On a fine early Autumn day we set off from Richmond, heading north to Wiseman’s Ferry, an area with a rich convict and colonial heritage. It dates back to the very early days of European settlement in the Sydney area and is about 75 km from the city. The road wound along the top of a plateau then started to descend steeply. Here’s our first view of the Hawkesbury River – the ferry is just out of sight.

The Convict Trail – a series of convict-hewn stones – commemorates the early crossing, at one time the only means of access northwards to the Hunter Valley.

There are actually two ferries. We took the slightly more southerly one at the confluence with the Macdonald River.  Houseboats are a familiar sight on the rivers.

About 16 km northwards of the ferry and alongside the Macdonald River was our lunchtime destination – the Settlers’ Arms Inn at St. Albans, built in 1836. Amazingly, the great flood of 1889 rose to the verandah eaves of the inn! It was once a stopover for Cobb & Co. coaches travelling between Newcastle and Sydney.

The food was awesome. Dave’s huge pie with mash and peas oozed gravy and huge chunks of meat. My lamb shank and beans soup with crusty bread may not have looked so attractive but the flavour was delicious. I’d go back for more any time.

Replete, we headed back towards the ferry but on the opposite side of the Macdonald River, along what was once the convict-built Old Great North Road.  An old graveyard beckoned ….

Many of the graves had modern bronze plaques attached. There was also a garden seat with a moving message. Imagine discovering your family at age 91.

We continued along the narrow road to the ferry:

On the way back to Richmond we stopped off at Ebenezer to admire the oldest church in Australia, erected in 1809.

To my surprise one of the settler families was named Johnston (my maiden name). But they were not my family, alas. Nor Dave’s. We are both Johnstons but unrelated.

Convict-hewn stoneswere everywhere.

Note the shaped corner stone.

Nearby is an old schoolhouse. This little plaque shows the flood height in 1867. The river is far off down a steep bank.

Why was that pile of stones fenced off? We found out …

Next morning we nearly missed seeing a balloon take off from a nearby field.

We left Richmond, heading for Moss Vale in the Southern Highlands. A whole new area to explore, but one that was once very familiar to me in my childhood.

The camp at Richmond, in the grounds of the Richmond Club, proved an ideal base from which to explore the Blue Mountains.

Our first exploration took us through Kurrajong Heights with an old church and graveyard right beside the highway. Not my best photo, shot from a moving car. We intended to visit Kurrajong Village itself at a later date.

We drove along Bell’s Line of Road, said to be the most scenic route into the mountains, climbing higher and higher to Bilpin where the guide books assured us there would be a multitude of roadside stalls. But it was late in the season and only apples were still available. This area supplied all the food to early Sydney.

During the fruit growing season we’ve been told you can download an App called the Farm Gate Trail to help discover the best local produce.  A pity we did not pick a better time to visit!

Then on to the Blue Mountains Botanic Gardens at Mt. Tomah. There was a weaving display there which I wanted to see.

Young waratahs, not yet fully formed.

Beautiful woven baskets using a variety of natural materials. Many years ago I did a weekend course in weaving and have never forgotten it.

The view from the main information Centre was breathtaking. Millions of years ago the valley would have been an extensive sandstone plateau, then violent volcanic eruptions capped the hills with lava which hardened into basalt. Over time rivers then cut ever deeper gorges and canyons.

The Information Centre was indeed informative: The blue haze that envelopes the mountains comes from oil vapours rising from the leaves of eucalypts below. There are more than 700 species of eucalypt in Australia.

The Wollombi Pine was featured. (I first saw a single specimen some years ago in Armidale, where I was informed of its unique history):

In the gardens was an unusual equatorial sundial, it reflects the basalt columns characteristic of the mountains, and was also inspired by the magnolia flower which has many features of the earliest flowering plants. 

A little further on we took a side track….

Lunch time! So we stopped at this little cafe in Mt. Victoria, I did not catch the name but the food was superb.

Mt. Victoria was the turning point for our Blue Mountains exploration. Autumn colours were just starting. 

Govett’s leap beckoned…..  it’s actually a waterfall, not a place where someone called Govett jumped out into space.

We spotted this insane tourist trying to attract attention; I think she was with the people on the left, we were studiously ignoring her:

Still high up in the Blue Mountains but heading downhill very gradually, we came to fabled Katoomba, absolutely awash with tourists. When I was very young we used to take the train up to Katoomba for a holiday. I loved the place. The very air was different from that in coastal Sydney, so much fresher, brisker and definitely colder (!).

Fighting our way through hordes of tourists, after having parked the Jeep ($4 for an hour) we finally reached the Three Sisters. The light was changing all the time.

There are various legends but basically the three sisters were belonged to an aboriginal tribe which was at war with another tribe, and the witchdoctor changed them into pillars to protect them during the war, intending to return and change them back … but he was killed so the three sisters have remained imprisoned ever since, as nobody can un-cast the spell.SS

The tourists had eyes for nothing but the valley and the Sisters, but we soon spotted something else, lording it over the whole valley: a Grey Shrike-thrush, Colluricincla harmonica. At least that’s what I think it is.

With dusk falling we headed back to Richmond down the fast highway.