We left our friends’ property at Euabalong West near Lake Condobolin with regret, it had been a lovely warm haven during some overcast chilly weather. We discovered a lovely old Dodge in one of the farm sheds, and Dave photographed the local birdlife.

Rain is always welcome … although we discovered right in the middle of the puddle, more or less, was the best place for WiFi reception! Another good place was down the driveway.

Saltbush – the farmer’s friend.

A couple of hours’ driving through light rain and past very green verges saw us in Cobar, THE gateway to the West. We bailed up in the Cobar Caravan Park, a very tidy well-laid out place with excellent facilities. As the weather sounded better at Broken Hill we decided to head straight off in the morning.

It’s 261 km from Cobar to Wilcannia. I couldn’t wait. Wilcannia was the birthplace of my grandfather Dick d’Archy, whose father Frank ran “Cuthowarra” station for some years in the 1880s.

Wilcannia was once an important port on the Darling – Murray River system. In 1859 Captain Francis Cadell and his steamer the Albury arrived, effectively beginning the paddle steam trade on the Darling. The system flourished for over 70 years.  River ports established included Walgett, Brewarrina, Bourke, Louth, Tilba, Wilcannia, Menindee, Pooncarrie and Wentworth. The importance of the river for transport declined n the 1920s as new forms of transport emerged.

The Darling River system itself is one of the largest in Australia – or was. it covers over one million square kilometres (14% of Australia) from its source in Queensland to its mouth south east of Adelaide. It is 3,370 km long, and was once an integral part of the lives of many Aboriginal people and continues to hold great significance to them.

In recent years the river has become a shadow of its former self, due in part to multiple damming and water extraction by greedy cotton farmers in the north. Not to get into politics here, but the Government certainly has much to answer for. The beautiful Menindee Lakes south of Wilcannia are now mostly dry.

These indicators show high the river once was – 0ver 11 metres.

We heard there is to be a protest in the form of a (partial?) blockage of the bridge at Wilcannia on the 16-19 June. Sadly we won’t be there then, I would have liked to have supported the organisers. Odd of me perhaps as “Cuthowarra’” was some distance away from the river ….. but still, Frank d’Archy would have been dependent on the river for supplies and for shipping his wool to market.

The town itself is now a shadow of its former self, but there are signs that it is reviving. Most of the graceful old buildings have been restored.

Granddad d’Archy would have collected his mail here…..

…..  and others such as the Old Fuel Store Cafe recently received Heritage grants to help with restoration. We had coffee at the cafe on our way back from Broken Hill and I can attest to the quality of the coffee/chai and in particular the cold bread and butter pudding with cream which was served as a “cake” – very light with just the right amount of sugar and sultanas. Dave was happy with his Hummingbird cake too. Recent Heritage funding has greatly improved the streetscape outside the Cafe and around the Courthouse area.

We filled up with diesel at the BP station off the main highway, an odd location perhaps but it is next to the remains of a river wharf. About six dogs guard the pumps at night. They were very friendly while the proprietor was around but I would not like to go near the place at night!

On our return from Broken Hill we stopped in Wilcannia again and noticed the old Athenaeum (Library) and Museum building was open. Oh joy!

But on enquiry we discovered the Museum had been closed and the building taken over by other organisations. We were directed to the nearby Council Chambers (another gorgeous old building, formerly a Bank) but the helpful clerk told us the Museum’s contents are now in a shipping container, “and probably full of termites”.

The old hospital also received a visit. Established in 1879, I doubt Grandfather and his two younger siblings would have been born there, it would have been a full day’s journey from “Cuthowarra” in a  buggy.

The old church of St. James ….

An interesting carved stone in a park…

I did not want to leave….. it is unlikely I will ever go that way again. Am I being maudlin dwelling on the past? I think not, I just want to immerse myself in some family history. I will be writing up about Wilcannia and its place in the family history at more length in my other blog, The d’Archy Chronicles.

I am seriously behind with this Blog. So just to let people know where we are … camped in the Warrumbungles National Park near Coonabarabran. It’s dusk and there are kangaroos hopping around everywhere. We are the only caravan in the camp although there are several camping groups with tents, BBQs etc … making me feel both privileged and very old (!).

We had not planned to come here but I realised we were going to skirt the Warrumbungles anyway, so simply had to come closer. I’m so very glad we did. I was last here in about 1962 on a walking trip with a group of people from Armidale, and  I still remember the awesomeness of the place.

Here’s the Warrumbungles from a distance, and from the road after entering the Park. More anon.

We are heading for Port Macquarie to visit my brother in a nursing home. Then we head north again.

A visit to the Western Plains Zoo at Dubbo was a must-do. Now part of the great Taronga Zoo in Sydney (one of my favourite childhood haunts) it is very different from most zoos as it is set in several hectares of bushland with at least 6 km of winding surfaced road plus numerous cycle and walking tracks. The entry ticket covers two consecutive days!

Visitors can drive their own cars or ride their bikes or hire a motorised golf buggy or special bicycles which cater for various family groups.  For example I saw one family of 5, mother was riding a bicycle pulling a baby buggy with the two little ones, the eldest child rode her own bike, and father was on a tandem with the second child riding behind him.

Although the number of different species was not as large as in a conventional zoo, the size of the herds was impressive. It was lovely to see the antelope and other African species including African wild dogs wandering at will, and also a herd of Przewalski horses – I’ve only ever seen one solitary Przewalski before and that was in Taronga many years ago.

The primates – not a large selection but an interesting one – had their own special area with a number of  islands connected by monkey-style swing bridges. There were plenty of large trees on each island plus some little cubby houses.

There was a huge tribe (now what is the correct collective noun?) of otters, absolutely delightful to watch but very difficult to photograph, and also meerkats.

Meerkats always have one sentinel posted ….

The larger animals included quite a number of hippos, rhinos, giraffes (including babies), zebras with varying stripes and 5 elephants plus about 8 Galapagos tortoises, three of them bred at the zoo. Throughout the day talks were given and the animals seemed eager to cooperate. The giraffes in particular – who could resist a nice piece of carrot (!).

One of the hippos loved having the keeper scratch inside his mouth (very slimy!).

The zoo has several endangered animal breeding programs including one for the rare white rhino (which isn’t white). There was one little baby …

This is a Bongo – and apparently the males collect large harems.

The solitary Bengal tiger was sulking the first day we visited – cold and rainy it was, and him without a mate … but he looked happier next day devouring his dinner.

the Zoo has five elephants, one African (“Cuddles”) and four Indian. They do not mix so cuddles has been given a couple of camels as companions (there were several other African elephants originally).

The grass is always greener …..

I thought for a moment I was in NZ … this is NOT a pukeko it’s an Aussie swamp hen.

Dubbo was also the place where we finally succumbed and bought some cosy winter PJs! We’ve been trying to keep our winter clothes to a minimum as we expect to spend most time in the warmer north. However I think the PJs may still be needed at night, I remember the night temperature at the Alice was rather low in April, and we will be in northern Qld in July-August.

A half-day’s drive through Parkes took us to Condobolin and then (after a false start, the GPSr had a hiccup) to Euabalong West, where we arrived just at dusk. Kangaroos were already in evidence and one hopped right in front of us but we saw it coming and slowed in time. Once at Euabalong West the question was – where were my friends? I had no idea! However, a quick question to one of the locals soon had us on our way.

I’ve known Valda since schooldays and spent many happy school holidays on her and Jim’s parents’ properties. Here is a reminder of what I got up to at Jm’s …. the cow’s name by the way was Chloe. There, that’s now recorded for posterity!

Dave cannot raise the WiFi on his Telstra wireless modem despite their claims to have the “best cover”. Hopefully I can post this and the previous blog at Condobolin but we will see.

Later: here we are in Condo having just had the best butternut pumpkin soup ever at a cafe called “Happy Daze”. I’m just about to post two blogs so am indeed happy.

On our last full day in Canberra Dave went off to do some more Museum-ing while Julie took me to a friend’ birthday party at a Nepalese restaurant. The food was delicious.

Late that afternoon we went to the War Memorial (which Dave had explored alone earlier) to see the various displays ……

……. And to watch the Last Post ceremony.Usually it’s a simple ceremony, one soldier’s name read out and his story, then the Last Post sounded. But that day there was some wreath-laying as well. Both a lone piper and a bugler were in attendance. Cockatoos wheeled overhead, the eternal flame burned on, the sun sank and the ceremony started …. It was a moving ceremony, we watched it all from an upper gallery which gave a clear view of everything but was also very exposed to the chilly Canberra air.

Both sides of the gallery are lined with soldiers’ names from every war in which Australian men and women have fought.

Scattered throughout the museum are photos of soldiers, often with their families – studio photos taken before they left to fight in the Great War. Few are labelled. Some are very poignant. One looked very like a d’Archy cousin but there is no way to tell if it was the same man – here is the Museum photo (left) and a family photo of Max Wreford d’Archy 1897-1966.

There was a reasonable display about the Light Horse but not as extensive as I’d hoped.

We had not heard back from the farmer about Five Mile Creek by the time we were due to leave Canberra, so headed straight for Temora, with a slight detour through Yass to take photos of the old buildings lining the main street.

That evening the farmer rang, and confirmed that the old Inn site was exactly where we had surmised. Jubilation! He also offered to meet us there if we returned. Meanwhile Dave discovered that he still had our friends’ front door key, so we did seriously consider retracing our caravanning steps just for a day, leaving Westie at the excellent campsite run by the Temora council. However, we’ve decided to press on instead.

We were waved in by Dave’s sister’s relatives Biffy and Spud; Biffy’s blog has been our inspiration for some time.

Dave spent a happy morning at the big Air Museum in Temora with Spud; I elected to practice with my ‘new’ oven and do some knitting. I’m sure the museum is very good but I have seen quite a few air museums by now (!). Photos by Dave.

Next day a hasty farewell, they went south and we went north – sort of. We DO want to get north before Winter officially arrives, even though to all intents and purposes it already has.

We’ve now been in Canberra for several days. Initially we concentrated on bringing Westie the caravan and Grandy the Jeep up to scratch – Westie has a persistent leak and Grandy a persistent rattle (!). Dave thinks the leak comes from the TV aerial inlet or possibly the solar panel power line inlet on top of the caravan, or just possibly somewhere else which could have been damaged by a tree branch when we were trying to extricate ourselves from the driveway in Melbourne. He has removed all the old caulking and applied new, then hosed down the caravan and we await developments, assisted by an early morning rainfall.

Grandy has proved more troublesome. Initially the noise was thought to be a stone caught in the brakes, but after removal in Cooma the noise started again … so in Canberra we went to an authorised Jeep dealer and they had a good look and said the wheel bearings were getting worn and would need replacing fairly soon, but they couldn’t do it for two weeks. We may move on and get it done elsewhere further north.

Nearby Yass has long been on my list of places to visit, as it features in my Darchy family history several times. Legend has it that my ancestor Thomas Darchy worked for or at least visited Hamilton Hume on one of his Yass properties; it would have been in about 1841-43,  long after Hume had retired from active exploration. Ann “Nanno” Byrne, the mother of Thomas’ future bride Susan, ran an Inn nearby at Five Mile Creek, so it is likely Thomas met Susan in the Yass district. They were married in Campbelltown just outside Sydney in 1844, then made their first home at Black Mountain near Yass. It is not clear to me yet if Five Mile Creek is part of the Black Mountain area, but records show that their first child was born at Five Mile Creek in 1845. Later they moved further west to more open country in the Lower Murrumbidgee.

Ann Byrne was the fourth of 16 children and was born at sea on the “Tellicherry’” as it approached Australia in 1806.

According to the Monaro Pioneers Index and some other records “Nanno” Byrne was the owner of 1900 acres and leased the Coach and Horse Inn on Old South Road at Five Mile Creek in 1855. She may have been the licensee even earlier. She married her third husband Joseph McKeogh in 1853 in Yass but I think continued to use the Byrne surname.  She died in 1864 at Five Mile Creek, of “Atrophy and debility, the effect of accidentally breaking her legs”  two months previously and was buried in Yass under the surname McKeogh. Her name is not on the list of headstones in any Yass cemetery.

Where was Five Mile Creek? It is described variously as:

1. near Bogalong, Yass. District of Burrowa.

2. south of Bogalong, near Beremangra.

3. Between Yass and Jugiong, near Bookham.

Maps show most of these place names, but not Five Mile Creek. So one fine morning we set off on a voyage of discovery (!).

First – Yass. Just before the town I spotted Hamilton Hume’s cottage, now owned by the National Trust. Did Thomas Darchy visit Hume there? Probably! But even without that inducement it was an interesting old building.

Did Thomas Darchy dine here?

Perfect matching of old wallpaper (the darker bits) ….

The original approach was from the north but once the Hume Highway was built the ‘back entrance’ became the main entrance. This would have been the early view from the main entrance.

Finally on to Yass itself.  A charming town full of old buildings. We visited the Museum which had an interesting display of old hotels in the town, but alas Nanno’s was not mentioned.

Keeping an Inn must have been interesting in those days, quite apart from the danger from bushrangers. Family legend has it that Nanno was held up at least once.

I did discover a small display about the Rev. Brigstocke who baptised some of Thomas and Susan Darchy’s children. In those horse-and-buggy days the distances were so vast that whichever travelling priest/minister arrived first was given the honour. The religion didn’t matter that much!

After lunch in an old building converted to a modern cafe with excellent food, it was time for the Great Five Mile Creek Hunt. We drove as far as Bookham then turned off the highway. Bookham is just a couple of homes, a huge junkyard for old farm machinery, a church and little else. We explored a couple of narrow roads but the feeling was that Five Mile was further along the highway.

It was! We almost missed it. The old Hume Highway, which mostly followed the Old South Road, was just the other side of a narrow reedy creek. On the banks of this creek were several non-native  bushes ….. was that the site of the Inn? Boolara Road led off from the highway and we followed it for some way but decided the Inn was most likely close to the highway.

We could not drive down the old highway as the way was blocked by a gate and a notice – with a phone number for a local farm. Julie phoned the farm for me next day and made contact with people who “know the history of the place” . A I write this I’m waiting to hear back from them via email. They may know the exact location of the Inn.

We continued along to Jugiong, just to make sure we hadn’t missed anything. At Jugiong there is a large camping ground for caravans, some houses, a very old hotel being restored, and not much else apart from an interesting sculpture and series of notices describing the death of the local policeman Sergeant Edmund Parry “killed in the courageous execution of his duty” in 1864 at the hands of bushrangers.

Being in Canberra, a visit to a least some of the National treasures is mandatory. We spent a lovely morning wandering about the National Art Gallery, which houses all sorts of art ranging from some Monets (including Waterlillies) to Blue Poles to Nolan’s entire range of Ned Kelly paintings. also lots of modern australian artists, some of whom I have not heard, others whose names I remember well from Mrs Adams’Art classes at school. Then it was back home for afternoon tea with friends from Armidale University days, who neither Julie nor I have seen for over forty years!

Today Dave has gone off to explore the Australian War Memorial Museum on his own while I am working on this blog. We are thinking of heading north soon to Temora to see a special Air museum and meet up with Dave’s relatives who like us are touring with a caravan.

We left Westy/Westie the Caravan (the name still not settled) sitting in a paddock where earlier there were several large kangaroos feeding unconcernedly, and drove further south to Eden on Twofold Bay. A special museum beckoned – the Killer Whale Museum. I was expecting the usual display of whale skeletons, vertebrae, harpoons, old photos of harpooning etc etc and indeed they were all there, but what amazed me was the story of Old Tom. From my early schooldays I’d heard about Twofold Bay, Ben Boyd, whaling, etc but never this story.

How about this as a cure for rheumatism? Also a Jonah story….

it wasn’t just Old Tom though …

it was good to see that the contribution of Aboriginals in the early days of the whaling industry at Twofold Bay are being recognised and acknowledged.

There was a cute little playroom for the littlies …..

Two lovely old clinker-built rowboats reminded me strongly of Cornelius’ tender. Some people were surprised we didn’t get a modern fibreglass model instead but Geoff was all for tradition – and strength. 

Down at the waterfront, I was trying to get my bearings. Cornelius sailed into this harbour in late 1980. Since then a modern fishing wharf has been built. We had an indifferent lunch at a waterfront cafe, I think we must have picked the worst one. Very disappointing as i was looking forward to my first meal of prawns – but they were coated in a very thick batter and fried for rather too long.

Up the hill we tried to get a good view of the harbour and lighthouse.

Next day we headed north up the coast, with a stop on the heights above Narooma to check out the very narrow channel through which Cornelius had been guided by a fishing boat. The sea at that time was far rougher than the day I took these photos. They do not show the channel as well as I had hoped.

However, down at the wharf there was a photographer’s treat, a mob of pelicans and seabirds plus a couple of huge stingrays all milling around a gutting table. The water was very clear.

A sign at a rest area on the coast shows the amazing abundance of fish species in this area.

A little further up the coast we stopped at Tuross Head to have some ultra-fresh bread rolls for lunch-with-a-view. A lone surfer kept us entertained, then a lone beach walker arrived. We met up with him a little later and he said he walks about 5 km on the beach every day.

One night at Braidwood; we woke to see  early-morning tai-chi on the nearby golf course.

And now – here’s proof that we are finally in Canberra! We are parked in the driveway at Julie and Allan’s home and are being spoilt rotten by my very dear old friends. Julie and I went overseas together in the late 60s and have a few reminiscences (and quite a few giggles) to catch up on!

Cooma was not quite what I had expected – it was smaller for one thing, but it did have some reasonable shops where we bought a few cold-weather items of clothing as we will probably be in the southern parts of Australia for a week or two more. Nanny Goat Hill gave a good view over the town, and the road to a small cafe/restaurant just outside town gave an even better one. It being such a small world these days, we were not really surprised when the waitress started talking about cochlear implants and a little girl she knew who had one. A wallaby was waiting outside to say goodbye.

One must-see was the Snowy Hydro-Discovery Centre just outside Cooma. Not only for the quality of the exhibits and the delicacy of the little cakes at the cafe but also the sight of a small group of “Lace Ladies” who invited me to view their work. Three were making incredibly delicate old-fashioned lace with numerous spindles, another was doing tatting and gave me a lesson (I still have a tatting bobbin somewhere at home).

it is difficult to visualise the magnitude of the Snowy scheme which started in 1949 before modern tools were available.

There is a monument outside to the approximately 120 men and women of over 30 nationalities who lost their lives during construction between 1949 and 1974.

Writing of tools – here’s a calculator the surveyors used. This would have been about the same time as my fellow students and I at the University of NSW were using logarithmic tables and/or slide rules.

A scale model showed our route to Cabramurra the previous day – it’s the yellow line which snakes from near Khancoban (middle of model) up to Tooma then a steep drop and onwards to Cabramurra (just out of sight to the left).

Leaving Cooma our route took us through Bombala in so-called Platypus Country. Just before the town we stopped to check out a small cottage which Mary McKillop once visited,  and across the road, the Bombala river.

Past the town we found a special Platypus Reserve, but we didn’t sight any there either. I have only ever seen one platypus in the wild and that was many years ago by chance when I was driving along a country road and saw some people intently watching something from a bridge. Curiosity made me stop and join them.

From Bombala it was a long twisty ride down and down and down the Darragh Mountain Road to Merimbula.

We planned to stop over at an Australian Motorhome and Caravan Club POP at Pambula but several phone calls to the owner were unreturned (she did make contact next day, she was in Sydney). We went to the place anyway but found it deserted and on a narrow road with a difficult entrance, so continued to Merimbula where we were soon settled in a camp just as the sun was setting. Yes, another sunset shoot!

It had been suggested that we drive the long Alpine Way route through the Snowy Mountains from Khancoban down a very steep and windy road to Thredbo then up again through Jindabyne and Berridale and thence to Cooma. It would doubtless have been an exhilarating drive in a powerful sports car, but …. towing a large caravan? We thought not and our doubts were crystallised by a hugh road sign which strongly advised against caravans and motorhomes taking that road. So we elected to head for Cabramurra instead – Australia’s highest town, built to house the Snowy scheme workers.

it was a beautiful clear day as we headed off with some trepidation, turning left on the highway just before Khancoban. The surfaced road was very narrow and twisty and mostly ran alongside huge power lines. In places there was a sheer drop on one side.

We only met a few other vehicles the whole 60 km to Cabramurra. About half way we stopped to view the Tooma Dam. it was sad to see how markedly the level of water had dropped since the dam was first built.

After that the road took us ever higher. The vegetation changed markedly. First it was large gums or mountain ash and other trees, then suddenly it was dead mountain ash towering over regenerating bush, then it was much shorter dead mountain ash and little else  ….  The photos were taken through the car windscreen, there were no places to stop.

Signs at Cabramurra told us the story. It’s going to take at least 40 years before some parts can expect to be re-vegetated.

Cabramurra was tiny and very quiet. There is one general store but we decided not to investigate for coffee.

Once we reached Kiandra the traffic increased  but it was still relatiely light. Bright orange road markings and two metre high red poles along the roadsides indicated how heavy the snow is in winter.

We were anxious to reach Cooma before nightfall as we’d been warned by numerous persons not to drive after dusk when the kangaroos come out, particularly as we do not have a bull bar. Indeed I did see one kangaroo sitting beside the road possibly contemplating when to make his suicidal dash. So Adaminaby and in particular the Old Adaminaby township on Lake Eucumbene were given a miss, although we could see the huge Lake at times through the trees.

We had a fairly uneventful trip on the Snowy Mountains Highway from Beechworth to Corryong, skirting a lone tree hill and catching glimpses of the upper reaches of Lake Hume with its drowned trees near Tallangatta. I wish now we had detoured for a closer inspection.

Along the way we stopped at the Old Tallangatta lookout. The whole town was moved in 1956. Part of the old Wodonga-Cudgewa Railway which was an important part of the construction of Lake Hume and the Snowy Mountains Hydro-Electric Scheme runs close by the viewing point and has been turned into a high country real trail, “counted among the most iconic trails in Australia”.

We arrived in Corryong late afternoon and just had time to set up camp before the sunset disappeared. I love that time of day with the sunlight sliding through the trees.

Next morning we spent some time inspecting the town. Autumn colours were everywhere. A monument commemorated a rather long-distance swim  ….

Corryong is “The Man From Snowy River” country and the local Museum certainly reflects that, but it had so much more besides. Did you know the hidden secret of the Australian Ten Dollar note?

it’s actually quite a large museum, I wandered round the main building then back to the front desk and said “I can’t find my husband” and the lady said “Oh he’s probably out the back” … I hadn’t realised the main building was just the beginning. There were many more buildings there, full of local history. It took most of the morning to explore.

 There were several intriguing exhibits including an early ice chest – has anyone heard of an “icy ball”?

I also spotted some tubes of Hansen’s Junket Tablets. When  did they disappear?

A very early phonograph also captured my attention.

One of the more unusual exhibits was a huge rug made in a WW2 prison camp. The photos tell the story.

There was also a wonderful dressing gown made by the same man. Awesome.

Since I was a young schoolgirl I have known about the “romantic folk hero” (aka bushranger, criminal and police murderer) Ned Kelly; and the place names Glenrowan, Beechworth and Jindabyne have reverberated in my mind. So it was with a sense of disbelief that I realised we were actually THERE, in Ned Kelly country.

Our first night on the road was spent in a charming camp in Glenrowan in a beautiful bushland setting, with kangaroos and no doubt other animals (don’t even think of snakes – anyway it was a bit too cold for them by then) surrounding us.

It was a bit of a shock to see very modern caravans and motorhomes hooked up to their own water inlets and with grey water hoses trailing off into garden or bushland areas, something definitely not condoned in NZ. So many of the caravans and motorhomes we saw on our recent hunt had small fresh water tanks and no grey water tanks. The idea of being completely self-contained is apparently a new one here. Grey water is water from the kitchen sink and bathroom shower and basin; black water is the other stuff which goes into a cassette which has to be emptied every couple of days. I was so glad for T5’s big black water tank which meant we could be totally independent for up to six days.

The weather was not friendly and we also discovered a leak which seemed to come from the TV aerial area or possibly was caused by our brush with overhanging branches when trying to get out of the driveway at Mornington. Certainly the last few days have been very rainy. Dave borrowed a ladder but could not see anything definite. We shall have to wait and see it it happens again next time we encounter heavy rain.

Glenrowan is off the main highway and is a much smaller town than i expected, consisting mainly of two over-priced tourist shops each with their own Ned Kelly museum, a sound-and-light ‘experience’ in a pub setting (which we declined), a quite good antique shop where we purchased some pretty oldish egg cups, and a couple of food places but nothing special. There is also a well-signposted walkabout explaining various points around town where the big siege took place. Here, for example, was the police station.

This was a slightly more recent police station; it had stables at the rear for the police horses.

This is the hill where Ned kept a lookout for the troopers pursuing the gang.

The museum we visited had a wonderful Kelly family tree covering one wall, which drew the genealogist in me to it like a magnet. I have visions of something similar in the long hallway once we move back into our home in Christchurch … maybe!

This old gum has such beautiful colours. Did it witness the siege?

Surprisingly quite a few people seem to have made Glenrowan their home. This is the fence in front of a modern brick home.

Then we moved on to Beechworth where Ned and his mother Ellen spent time in prison. The old town precinct has been restored and looked beautiful in the autumn light. The size of the old cobbled drains reflect on the rainfall in the district.

Spotted in some shop windows: some cute teddies and parrotty candlesticks.

The courtyard of a guest house was a little confusing – were they trying to be Kelly-ish, topiary-ish, Italianate or just garden gnome variety?

By then I was feeling a bit sated with Ned Kelly. Jindabyne up north will have to wait for a later visit.

We left Beechworth heading along the Snowy Mountains Highway to Tallangatta and Corryong. By the way, Dave’s driving glasses still haven’t turned up, he may have to order another pair.