Saturday 4th October - Grenfell and Weddin Mountains NP

It rained heavily overnight and is still raining when we wake in the morning. The sky is clear at dawn but there are clearly showers passing and heading in from the west and south west. We take our time packing up. I do my exercises. By the time we are not far off being ready to go the rain comes down in torrents. We can’t decide what to do. Our plan for today was to wander the Weddin Bird Trails around Grenfell, ending at the Grenfell Motel overnight and tomorrow night. We decide to make our way towards Grenfell and decide what to do when we get there depending on the weather. The drive down from Forbes is pretty and particularly at the start there are masses of flowering trees everywhere. We are a bit puzzled that there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of honeyeater activity. It’s pretty pointless trying to birdwatch in the rain and it’s still coming down, so it’s a pretty businesslike drive through the beautiful scenery.

Daughter is mesmerised by a single mature tree standing at the top of a rise in a nearby paddock. We stop and she takes many many photographs....

By the time we reach the intersection of the Mid western highway it’s still raining and the mountains to the south are shrouded in cloud. We decide to head towards west Wyalong and maybe even to Lake Cargellico or Hay. Still sure that there must be something to see in the flowering trees we pull over by a couple of huge gums near Ooma creek that are absolutely smothered in bloom. Blow me down if there aren’t a flock of superb parrots feeding in them and the smaller flowering trees just inside the nearby paddock. It’s still pretty wet, spitting rain, and the tall seeding grasses are dripping of course. Eventually, somewhat wet legged, we give up and turn our attention to the west once again.

A few kilometres down the track we come to a rest area and an enticing blacktop road heading off to the right. On the spur of the moment I turn in to see what we can see in the flowering trees round about. As we pull over it’s clear there’s a lot of birds about at this spot – birdsong is abundant, so we park and grab our binoculars and see what we can see. The birding is great here - too enthralling to think of photos apparently and I have none.

At first we examine a patch of native pine that is mixed with some flowering gums. We find red-capped robins, white winged trillers, brown-headed honeyeater, superb fairy wrens, immature golden whistler with its rich rufous on the back of the wing, striated pardalote and yellow rumped thornbills, with their glorious twittering call – these are just the highlights you understand. There are always the ubiquitous white winged choughs and apostlebirds and other common stuff. I wander along further down the road and we find more superb parrots. A young male sits happy as larry at the end of a high dead branch. There’s quite a flock of superb parrots hanging about. We turn and find a cockatiel perched high on another dead branch.

There’s quite few parrots flying back and forth and I think I see blue bonnets fly over to a distant dead tree then as I walk towards the spot they fly back past me to where I’ve come from. I continue on to sus out just what might still be up there as this was the tree where the flock of superb parrots took off to earlier. When I arrive the tree is empty, but almost immediately four parrots come flying over and land in the tree. At least two are blue bonnets. A pair of eastern rosellas soon joins them, but the two blue bonnets stick together and separate from the rosellas. Pretty special. I’ve walked quite a distance up the road so turn and head back towards mum and the car.

We decide to drive up on the off chance that mum might get to creep up and see the blue bonnets, but as we creep along a car speeds past us and disturbs the parrots. Well, we get to see them fly over anyway, and having watched them flying back and forth I’m confirmed in my suspicions that I’d seen several blue bonnets flying past over the last couple of days. Their belly is quite prominent - motly with red as they fly across.
By now the rain seems to be clearing. The cloud is quite high and it’s getting pretty warm. We are therefore encouraged to return to our original plan and head for Grenfell to get supplies for a bbq lunch.

First up we head out to Henry Lawson’s birthplace. The memorial has a plaque on each side with extracts from Lawson's poetry, particularly one that talks about being from Grenfell. We play the tourist snapping photos and then head into town. We're regretting not having a volume of Lawson's poety with us and daughter recalls what a wonderful experience it was staying with friends at Lake Eucumbene and being taken four wheel driving and camping through the snowy mountains and reading The Man from Snowy River by the campfire. The Man From Snowy River is Banjo Patterson of course not Henry Lawson. I think my favourite Henry Lawson poem is Faces in the Street. http://www.abpa.org.au/Bush_Poetry/Traditional_Poetry/faces_in_the_street.html

Grenfell is a nice little town. Quite atmospheric and the neighbourhoods are very pleasant. A magnificent Edwardian/Victorian type double storey house is for sale on a corner. My dream house! We turn into the main street.

We find a park immediately outside the butcher which is convenient. We wander in thinking to buy some sausages for a sizzle. It’s a real old school butcher, with a cold room that has a big sturdy wooden door and another room out the back and the smell which takes me back in an instant to my grandfather's butcher shop (which was on the Pacific Hwy in Artarmon in Sydney).

In the shopfront behind the counter is a huge butchers block and rows of rails with butchers hooks on them. Not much of anything in the refrigerated counter. Just a board up the back of the room listing what they’ve got and cost per kilo. You just have to take it on faith. We enquire after the availability of the sausages. Out of stock unfortunately. Hmm.. A fair deal of procrastination later I order four pieces of scotch fillet. The butcher looks well chuffed. We add four plain rissoles to the order and the butcher heads to the cool room. He returns with a slab of meat from which he proceeds to cut four large pieces. It appears quite different to the scotch fillet we pay 40 odd bucks a kilo for in Sydney. This is quite a different shape and quite heavily marbled. I’m a bit dubious, but I know marbling is good news in meat – so I guess we’ll see. As we go the butcher wishes us a great weekend in a very genuine way – not like the automaton style that is typical in the city where turnovers and customer numbers are high.

We stowe the meat in the esky and make our way to the local bakeries to sus out the sausage rolls. We’re feeling pretty slack having neglected to sample too many at the towns we have passed through. We hunted around in Forbes this morning but could only find a Vietnamese hot bread shop. Vietnamese bread shops don’t generally do good sausage rolls in my experience, so that’s written off from the start. Daughter ducked in to the bread shop while I ducked across the road to Woollies for some crackers to have with our cheese. She bought a “damper” and 6 bread rolls. The “damper” has a beautiful crust that looks like French bread- clearly they have no idea what damper really is. It looks and smells fantastic though and it’s been waiting in the car for lunch. We were lucky to get what we did. Apparently the “damper” was only available because they accidentally made one too many for an order.

...I will never stop missing the bakery in Manly that back in the days when it was illegal to make yeast bread on a Sunday, took to making damper instead. Boy oh boy, I almost wish they'd bring that law back. The damper that bakery sold was SOOOOO good. Every sunday morning a really long queue would snake out the door and down the street and you had to get in early or it would be all sold out... ah, damper, I wish I was better at making it......but I digress..

Grenfell seems to have two bakeries and neither has sausage rolls, just a couple of pies. We’re more or less pleased with that situation we really don’t need more food to be honest.
We head out towards Ben Hall’s Cave in Weddin Mountains National Park. It’s 23 odd kilometres and the scenery is typically lovely as it has been all weekend.

As we stop along the way for grey crowned babblers, red rumped parrots, fairy martins, some sort of singing bird of the fields (identifying these is causing us a good deal of angst), grey teal and Australasian grebes… it takes us a while! We follow the signs and turn into Bimbi State forest, a native Cyprus pine plantation which we understand now forms part of the national park.

Along the way we stop for some sort of bearded dragon that is sitting on the road. He’s quite a lairy yellow colour with a black tail and parts of his body are brown too.

We get out of the car and walk over with the camera. It just sits there! At first it just sits very still. Then when we don’t go away it changes it’s colour getting darker and darker. It puffs out it’s stomach and puffs out it’s beard trying to convince us that it’s a big nasty dangerous lizard and it might be best if we just bugger off.



We don’t off course and he is obliged to extend his efforts. We’re not real pleased to see him so comfy sitting on the road. We move away to see what he does. He eases up on the “I’m a BIG lizard” routine. He doesn’t move. Clearly these lizards are taught by their mum and dad that the worst thing you can do is to look scared or run. I touch his tail to encourage him to move off. Nothing. I keep trying and finally he decides this is getting a bit more intimate than he’s prepared to suffer and he runs at speed into the brush running on his hind legs.

We have a bit of a look at the bronzewing we saw fly off down the road a bit. Then we climb back in and drive through to the picnic area.

There’s a few people camping, but plenty of good picnic sites with campfire available. It’s getting quite late for lunch and who knows how long the rain will hold off, so we get right into building the fire. We‘ve brought all we need. Kindling, wood and blocksplitter. Son and I tend the fire while Daughter slices the bread. We enjoy the little slices with butter as we cook the steak – very delicious. Well above average, but I am not surprised. You could tell by the look of the crust that it was going to be very good.

The fire is going great guns and we think we’re about done on the steak when the fire just looses it’s oomph. Aaaggh! We chuck a bit more wood on and before long we have the steak between a couple of slices of bread, splooped on a bit of tomato sauce and we are each tucking in to the most delicious steak any of us can remember having in a very very long time.. in the case of the kids, possibly best they’ve ever had. It is just superb. Absolutely superb and even if we do say so ourselves, it is cooked to perfection. And only $23 odd a kilo!! This is the life! We wonder what the poor people are doing today!

The rissoles cook slowly as we eat our steak sambos. We’re pretty full, don’t really need more to eat. The steaks were pretty big. I’m almost relieved when the rissoles end up in the fire. Too salty and why bother when we are satiated by superb steak?

We relax for a bit enjoying the serenity and watching the bush tele. Each campsite is well separated. The sky is starting to look a bit threatening, so we pack up, and as the fire dies down we make sure it is properly out and for mum’s benefit move the car closer to the start of the walk to Ben Hall’s Cave. She will mosey around, but isn't capable of a swift walk up to the cave. The guys at the campsite nearby are very friendly and looking for participants for a night of fireworks later. No go for us. We’re heading off… and I’m pretty confident what they’re planning is actually illegal anyway. We head in along the path through some gorgeous seeding grasses. I stop to snap a photo.

As we move into the bush the wildflowers get denser and denser. Brachyscombe, and a stack of others some of which I’m sure you can also get in the nursery.

As we climb up the hill the rocks become more prominent and it is absolutely beautiful. These photos don't begin to do the scene justice, but even so it is very pretty.. It’s like going for a walk through someone’s rock garden.

The flowers and grasses intermingled in a most aesthetically pleasing arrangement. I’m blown away. Yellow paper daisies are here and there among the purples and blues. It is an absolute delight. The path is steep and we set a reasonable pace. Mum is moseying about down on the flatter area, this is way too difficult for the mobility impaired. Finally we come to the cave- which is quite small and fenced off from entry due to the risk of rock falls. There is an interpretive board, and best of all beautiful views across the plains. Wonderful.

The return path comes down from the lookout in a loop so you don’t have to back track at all. As Daughter and I come through we disturb a large dark macropod with a lighter stripe on it’s face. It’s not overly fussed. It moves further off, but then stops to continue feeding giving us an opportunity to take its portrait.

There are several other longer trails from this picnic and camping area, and another one to a couple of lookouts on the other side of the national park. You would never guess to look at the mountains from a distance, or even from the parking area that the bushland of the Weddin Mountains is so pretty. It is definitely worth a visit in spring. The flowers are all looking particularly happy with the rain over the last little while.
Our picnic concluded and the rain starting to close in, we head on back to our Motel in Grenfell. On the way out of the park we disturb a couple of eastern grey kangaroos and they bound away slowly. When we reach it, the motel is modest, which I guess is to be expected for 2 1/2 star. Not very expensive, but not cheap for what you get. It is quite a come down from the Forbes Lake Motel, that is for sure! However we’ve stayed in much much worse than this. It’s clean if a bit tired and it doesn’t smell too bad. Mum’s happy as the old beds are pretty soft how she likes them.

The youngsters decide to head off into the main street for a walk. They play on the monkey bars and stuff in the local park and generally have a bit of fun. Mum gets me to take her out to one of the bird trail sites that’s pretty close to town.

Company Dam is looking pretty desolate in some ways as the dam is quite empty and so all that area that is usually under water is just bare. There is some lovely forest around about though, with cypress pine. Lots of friar birds. I think probably the best find was a pair of very mature rufous whistlers. The male in his beautiful white throated plumage the female strongly rufous with striated plumage on the neck and breast. The male doesn’t colour like that for years and the female also takes many years to colour up to that intensity. I wander along the tracks in a circle then drive down to collect mum from where she’s got to near the dam and we head back. Again there are same species of lizard on the roads. In this spot they must love the accumulated warmth in the sealed road. We park and walk over to them. The dragon closest too us is just SO not fussed by our presence. No puffing up from this guy, he just looks at us and figures we’ll just go away eventually.

I walk down the road to the second lizard and he dashes off into the leaf litter and sits very very still quickly changing colour to the exact shade of old leaves.

He’s off the road so we head on back to the first guy who clearly has no plan of going anywhere. I decide maybe it might be a better idea if he was a little more wary of people, so I pick him up. At first he’s not sure what he should do and he just stays still. Then he decides enough is enough and he want’s to go. I put him down and he takes off for a nearby paddock. He’s had a bit of a fright, but hopefully he’ll be quicker to move off next time. As we pull out in the car the other lizard down the road walks purposefully out on to the road and starts bobbing his head. We drive slowly past him, he just sits there. Well, I guess the locals must be pretty careful drivers and must like the lizards – we haven’t seen much in the way of lizard road kill. Only one in all our travels so far.

Friday 3 October - Forbes, The Dish, Bogan Gate and Condobolin

No flies on us thismorning! Mum and I arrive at Gum Swamp by 5:45 am. The light is very bad for birdwatching, but it is always lovely to see the dawn and the calls of the waterfowl in the background are not hard to take. I park by the bird hide and take a walk up towards the Newell Highway stopping along the way to see what I can given the light impediment. Pink eared ducks aplenty. A pair is slowly shepherding half a dozen ducklings around. So cute! A range of other ducks are also there which I take a guess at and later confirm as hard heads, grey teal, pacific black ducks. Australasian grebes. Then bonanza! A hoary headed grebe. My first which is in twitching terms known as “a lifer”! Our noisy friends from yesterday are here in plentiful numbers. I still can’t be sure what they are. I’ll check the calls when we get home. Maybe singing bushlarks or maybe rufous songlarks.

Back at the bird hide I watch a clamorous reed warbler eating a dragonfly. Or trying to anyway. It pecks at it. Drops it, picks it up again in a cycle that proceeds for some minutes. The interesting birdlife is staying away from the hide today. The mud foundations of a welcome swallows nest are visible on the wall. This nest was in good order and was full of baby swallows the first time we discovered Gum Swamp – let me tell you baby welcome swallows snuggled up together are incredibly cute. Such pretty faces. There was also a white plumed honeyeaters nest just outside the hide at that time.
We take our time and gradually make our way around the reserve, along the way we see several troupes of grey crowned babblers, blue faced honeyeaters, white winged choughs – I’ll have to catch up on mum’s list later on. Eastern Rosellas, Galahs. The sky is full of birds circling, maybe woodswallows. After several hours we climb back in the car and start to move off. “Hang on!!” Sings out mother. “Back up! What are they?” We back up and sure enough, mum has spotted something special over on some dead branches about 50 – 100 metres across the reserve. We get a good bead on them. Solid green with yellowy/orange looking beaks. Mum says she sees one with a yellow head, but the ones I’m looking at are just green. Slightly darker in appearance on the backs, vibrant green tummies unadulterated with other colour splashes. Like birds everywhere they are quick to realise we’re looking at them and four birds fly off quickly in the direction of the bird hide. We pull out the guide books and hunt around for something similar. Superb Parrots!!! AWESOME!! What a day! Grey crowned babblers are always special. Did I mention there were also both species of spoonbill in breeding plumage.. the earlier hoary headed grebes and now superb parrots. Love Gum Swamp – the local STP. A fantastic place for a bit of a morning walk and birdwatch.
A mobile call from Daughter at about 8:30 and home for a brekkie of almond and honey bran flakes with rhubarb spiced with just a touch of cardamom. We decide to head into town to visit the Bushrangers Hall of Fame at the Albion Hotel. A quick stop at supa IGA to buy some shampoo – Einstein here accidentally packed just a bottle of conditioner. Meanwhile while mum gets herself organised at the car.

We head into the bar of the Albion and purchase our tickets $5 for adults $4 for a concession and we are ushered in to the entrance way before the heavy door is locked behind us. Apparently there is a second set of stairs that will take us back up into the hotel at the end. The Bushrangers hall of fame is set up in the cellars of the hotel which provides a dank and grimy sort of ambience. The displays are a bit old and some framed information sheets are a bit beyond their best. There is a range of questionable information on large display panels..questionable in terms of historical accuracy that is. The highlights for me were a transcription of a letter from the police officer that shot Ben Hall to his father who was surveyor general. A cat of nine-tails, ball and chain, leg irons, neck and leg irons and such like which were mounted on the walls round about. Another cabinet had a chinese opium pipe from the 1860s, there were guns from the period and earlier, including a navy colt and ammunition for it. Ben Hall carried a navy colt. These things were all very interesting, and I'm pleased to see the kids and mum also seem to be finding it very interesting.

Some of the cellar rooms were set up for different alleged purposes. One as an opium den, and another with just a table and chair where they allege that the Ben Hall gang met to plan their robbery of the gold escort (Really?). Both of these were fairly underwhelming, everything covered in dust. Another display described Sir Frederick Pottinger as a dedicated and diligent officer – which is at somewhat at odds with Nick Bleszynksi’s book – though now I think of it they didn’t say he was competent or that he objectively collected and assessed the facts and dealt fairly with people, or understood the local culture or natural environment - LOL all of which seem to be his greatest faults judging by Mr Blezynski’s version of the events. I suppose we can let him have dedicated and diligent. I guess first and foremost The bushrangers Hall of Fame brought home that when it comes to history the “facts” can be hard to be sure of. Everyone involved has their own truth and history is generally written by the victor.

I think that the museum would be even more interesting if they told some of the amusing trivia, like that the Australian saying “blind Freddy could see that!” apparently originated from Mr Frederick Pottinger after the Ben Hall gang set up a rough straw effigy in a premise they had long since left and Pottinger broke in and pumped it full of lead for quite some time. This after the gang had been leading him a merry dance for quite a while. The mistake led to Pottinger being nicknamed “blind Freddy”.

From here we decide to head to the cemetery where we have no trouble whatever in locating Ben Hall’s grave. There is also a plaque close by commemorating a number of other people of the time, like warrigal walsh, billy dargin and others who were players in the Ben Hall saga, but whose graves are unmarked. Next we decide that we will have a look at Kate Kelly’s grave.

The historical society also notes the grave of Captain Cook’s great grand niece – but why that should be worth noting is beyond me!!
We continue on the Bogan Gate road and follow the directions through kilometres of fields to Ben Hall’s Place.

It's quite a distance and we begin to wonder if we've missed a turn or something, but no, finally we spot a billboard in the distance. Beyond the bill board the historical society has erected a small plaque at a clump of remnant trees where Ben Hall is believed to have been shot. The billboard seems to be much more partisan on the side of Hall than was the Hall of Fame. It brings to mind Nick Bleszynski's comments that local opinion is still very divided on Ben Hall. I am glad we came through the road from Eugowra, and I imagine that the bush there must have been akin to the cover at this place when Ben Hall camped out here in hiding. A lot of imagination is required! Well, the site is still pretty isolated at any rate. We unlatch the gate and wander in. We all take a few minutes imagining the events of that day. My mind flitting on images of poor Ben Hall - who never killed anyone - being pumped full of lead. Clearly I am among those sympathetic to the bush ranger in this case.

We hear what sounds like yellow rumped thornbills twittering in the trees but it’s quite warm and very windy and the birds are staying hunkered down in the tree so we don’t actually spot them to confirm. I give it a try though, and when I return to the car the kids are entertaining themselves dancing on the road. A bit of swing that Son learnt through work. .. yeah.. there's no end to the cool activities the world's best employer offers for staff....well to the engineers anyway..
Not really understanding where we are well enough to continue exploring from here, we head back to Forbes where we freshen up and Son grabs some shorts – it’s too hot for the black jeans he was wearing. Then it’s off to Parkes to have a look at the Dish. We stop in Parkes to get some money in the main street. They were playing country music on the public loudspeakers. Kenny Rogers. It felt very very weird. Very American. I was really uncomfortable and felt like an alien in the environment. In the city they play classical music to deter gangs of teenagers in places. I guess in Parkes the target offenders are roaming city slickers. LOL We didn’t like Parkes much at a glance. It seemed just a featureless, fairly characterless large town and we were keen to move on. Though I should say my brother-in-law lived in Parkes for work for quite a time and says it's a lovely town with really nice people, so I'm sure it would grow on you if you were spending some time here.

When we get out of Parkes heading north the country side is really really lovely. Rolling hills with higher hills very scenic in the distance. Fields of bright yellow canola, rich green wheat making a beautiful contrast to occasional grazing pastures. Finally we reach the turn off to the dish and drive between a couple of fields sown broadacre. One side bright canola, the other the deep green of the wheat. I nearly have a fit when as we pass I see a crimson chat fly up. Son is driving and is frantically instructed to turn around. Fortunately the birds are right opposite a parking bay which seems to be intended for viewing the dish. There are at least 4 crimson chats flitting about and returning to sit on the wires of the fence, giving us ample opportunity to observe them. Finally they clear off. After a few minutes a pair of diamond firetails takes their place briefly before flying off. I later discover daughter has amused herself by videoing the episode! Crazy birdwatching oldies! .. and there’s the dish of course, so I can’t take all the credit! Though she only took video of the dish from the viewing bay. It is no hardship soaking up the scenery here.

We head in to the Dish information centre which has a large parking area with lovely planting that has been done by NSW Forestry. There are blue faced honeyeaters flying about and some other birds also, but we’re hot and fairly over the out of car sight seeing so we don’t go in, just get some photos of the dish.

We had intended to go up to Peak Hill to have a look at the open cut experience, but when I tell them that there is an entrance fee, everyone discovers they didn’t want to do it THAT much! We decide instead to head to Trundle and then Condobolin and then back to Forbes. We decide it makes sense to fill up before we head off. The lady at the checkout says that the hot wind was forecast to blow up some rain, so fingers crossed!
It’s a fairly straightforward drive to Bogan Gate. Bogan Gate like Parkes has a very nice and very new Welcome to sign. We stop to take a photo.

The sign is right near a short avenue of beautiful red flowering gums full of blossom (unfortunately you can't see the blossoms in the wind blown trees in the photo). There are some birds about but we don’t have the time or patience to hunt them down in the heat and wind and they are apparently intent on avoiding us doing so, so we give it up.
We briefly pay our respects to the local war memorial, and I think this one is a particularly nice one. Located as is usual in the middle of the cross section of two of the main roads in town.


Next stop the Breaker Morant plaque around the corner. They say the plaque is "in recognition" of the Breaker. I think it should be in memorium for him. Sometimes the politics of history is tricky to navigate and the Breaker was a controversial figure, having been shot by the British Army for shooting prisoners during the Boer War. There was and is a widespread view in Australia that the Breaker was a scapegoat. A dispensible colonial that could easily be sacrificed to take the heat off Kitchener for orders that were given in a savage no holds barred approach to stamping out opposing guerilla fighters. Indeed the Boer war is very interesting and very similar to the War in Iraq in many respects. Another war entered into for spurious reasons, another war where victory was declared prematurely; another war where the not actually vanquished continued on via an insurgency and guerilla tactics. I recently saw an interview with the guy who did the studies on the psychological effects of being a prisoner and prison guard and he commented, that the fellow who committed the worst of the atrocities at Abu Ghraib should certainly take responsibility, but that Rumsfeld and his cronies should be in prison alongside him. I have to say I agree, and it was the same for Breaker Morant.

The fate of the Breaker was a significant early step to a shift in the thinking of Australians and in our approach to participation in multi-national forces. Our military has not forgotten the lessons of history. The Breaker was not the only incident where Australians serving as part of the British forces were executed by the British in the Boer War. In another case after several Australians were executed (unfairly in the view of Australians back home) Australians were outraged and memorials were erected in their home country to those who were executed - much to the puzzlement if not anger of the British of course. Major culture clash. We learned though. In the Great War Australia made sure that the British did not have the power to execute our soldiers and of course the British lobbied hard to be allowed to shoot our soldiers there too - but our Government held firm. No way! I guess we should note also that the Breaker was a very well regarded horse breaker and poet in Australia at the time..his work was published alongside our other great bush poets in the Bulletin. You can read his poetry including the final poem he wrote before his execution on http://www.middlemiss.org/lit/authors/moranth/poetrybulletin.html#contents
The Breaker is also famous for shouting at the firing squad before his execution "shoot straight you bastards".






Anyway, Farewell Breaker. We snap some photos and off we go heading up a pretty quiet, narrow but sealed road towards Trundle. I guess you could say we trundled off to Trundle LOL

Trundle has an extremely wide main street, so we take a couple of photos of that, note the very long wooden verandah and then we head on, taking the turn at the sign to Condobolin.

The drive down from Trundle to Condo is beautiful. It is made even better by the threatening thunderstorm which is building to the south and west. We stop to have some cheese, tomato and crackers, at a nicely vegetated spot. As we sit we see the storm developing and finally see that it is raining in the distance to the south and west. Marvellous!! I photograph some bark on an ancient roadside tree. It’s pretty spectacular, so I hope the photo does the real thing justice.

Lunch completed we head off with Son reading to us from Noam Chomsky's Imperial Ambitions as we travel. Interesting book.

The Landscape is made even more beautiful by the rain that decends like a gauzy veil across the fields and distant mountains. We find a nice viewpoint to snap some photos.

After a while the rain starts bucketing down. We can see the rain sheeting across the road and it gets so heavy it gets to the point where we can hardly see in front of us and we are slowed right down. The volume of water on the roadsides (and potential for getting bogged) doesn’t encourage one to pull over so we press on at a slow speed thoroughly enjoying and marvelling at the downpour.


Finally we arrive in Condobolin which from this entrance seems a bit underwhelming, but we find the main road and find it’s a nice honest little town and we like it. Daughter is driving and she explores a little. We head up one street with a “woman” tree which we photograph. Delicacy prevents my publishing it here for fear it may offend some viewers. Then I get some shots of some great bark on a few of the other street trees, tippy toeing over the carpet of tiny gum nuts on the earth around the trees which is soft from the rain. I particularly enjoy the distinctive smell of the inland in the wet and the water trickling in the gutters.


We take our time making our way to the exit to the Lachlan Valley Way. We cross the Lachlan (Named for Governor Lachlan Macquarie) and I am moved to stop and hop out in light drizzle and go and take some snaps of the river.

There's also a lovely riverside memorial park with play equipment and picnic facilities and what look to be electric bbqs. I stop to pay my respects at the Condobolin memorial Honour Roll before heading back to the car.

It’s getting pretty late when we finally set off in light rain along the Lachlan Valley Way back to Forbes.
The scenery is similar to that around Coonamble, though with more recent water around than when we were in Coonamble this time last year. At least that is how we perceive it. The Lachlan Valley Way runs more or less along the river and every now and then we take a short detour to check out the river, which narrows as we head upstream and eastward. It looks so placid, you wouldn’t guess that the whole district can flood. Anyway we photograph some more awesome bark along the way, though it proves difficult to capture well.

Back in beautiful Forbes we decide to eat at “Spice” which has tables on the wide balcony of one of the historic buildings. A challenge for mum up a large flight of stairs, but she manages OK. The food is fairly simple traditional fare, the ambience was great and the service friendly. We have an enjoyable meal and head on home for journal writing and bed.
Dinner was a shared entres of fried camembert with plum sauce and banana wrapped in bacon with mango sauce. Mains most of us had surf and turf. With Acton beef scotch fillet from Queensland. Son had scotch fillet with diane sauce. Served with a side of veges including potato bake. Dessert was disappointing though and with the benefit of hindsight we should have skipped it.

Thursday 2 October - A drive to Ben Hall Country.

It is Thursday before the October long weekend. We make a late start we’re in no rush and more concerned that the drivers are rested before the long drive. We take The Northern Road to the mountains. The crabapples and cherry trees all smothered in blossom. A brief stop in Leura to change drivers we decide to pull up outside Everglades for the views of the gardens from the road. Purple tulips, in a bed and swathes of bluebells under the trees making a beautiful picture. Moving on we head up through Leura Mall lined with pink cherry trees making a glorious display. The highway also is lined with spring blossoms. Next stop Hartley valley tea rooms and gallery, a favourite with daughter who visits it regularly. We enjoy browsing and they have a range of nice pieces on display.
Back in the car we are heading to Orange. It is wonderful to be on the open road once again. Through Bathurst, the elms are vibrant with their globular green flowers and other spring flowers are also in full burst. Weeping cherries are popular and we admire several in the front yards of a modest federation homes along the main drag. Past Bathurst we take the turn to Millthorpe and admire the beautiful rolling pastures before finally motoring into the wonderfully atmospheric federation streetscapes of the village. We quickly spot the Old Mill Café Restaurant and get a park close by. The gardens around the street are all looking lovely with some beautiful camellias and early iris. The Old Mill Cafe is opposite the lolly shop, which for some reason is closed today and there are no signs posted as to what the normal opening hours are.
The Old Mill café is doing a roaring trade today. Some lovely tables outside are occupied which is not surprising as it is a perfect spring day. We opt for a window seat indoors away from the other diners. As we wait for our orders we observe a dog chase a boy on a bike up the footpath opposite, yapping at the boys heels. Though he pedalled vigorously to get away, glancing down at behind him frequently, the boy didn’t look overly worried. Having escorted this presumptuous interloper a sufficient distance from his territory the dog retires. We can sense the smug satisfaction pouring from him. As he turns we can almost feel him mentally groan as he becomes aware that his none too happy owner is on his trail. She gestures at him and is clearly telling him off, but we are unable to lip read – the dog gives a cursory submissive posture as he happily trots around the back, clearly of the opinion that the woman is just one the unavoidable obstacles that just has to be dealt with in the course of his doggy profession. Afterall, the job is done, and done well.
Our lunch arrives. 3 of 4 have ordered the beer battered fish with beer battered fries. I have opted for the open steak sandwich. The food is fairly moderate in price and is good value, but we all agree not a particularly memorable meal. The service is friendly but slow. The establishment seems quite surprised at how busy they are on this Thursday. The slow service means lunch takes us longer than I had expected or hoped and it is pushing 2 oclock by the time we get away.
Another change of driver and we pack back in the car. Straight through Orange. Such a lovely town and the blossoms here are also in full flight. Elms, weeping cherries, crabapples and flowering plums particularly catching our attention.
Out of Orange we head straight through down Cargo Road. It is a beautifully scenic drive. There has clearly been some rain, but the dams have a long way to go to reach capacity. As we travel along we begin to find fields of golden flowering canola, but the blossom is not as thick as it could be. Paddocks with sheep, and paddocks lying fallow for now. The countryside is just beautiful in this region and we’re all loving the drive.
Next stop Canowindra, we come in via the quieter streets and are somewhat puzzled as to the where we will find the historic buildings of which we have heard. A few turns around the town and we reach the main street. Most premises are occupied with a range of small businesses. However pretty much every premise is overdue for some maintenance. A coat of paint would go a long way to making the town seem a bit less ramshackle. A lot of potential for Canowindra though. It is at present completely unspoilt. We note “the shearing shed hair and beauty”, and another beautician down the street. Butcher, IGA a few others. We pass a bakery and decide to continue our hobby of sampling sausage rolls. We all go in. The pies and sausage rolls look pretty average. The croissants look very good. We end up with a choccy milkshake, choccy croissant and apricot Danish. The milkshake seems to take forever to make, and it seems like the girl serving needs to remake it several times. Very odd. Doesn’t seem to have any malt in it – we had requested double malted. The croissants are every bit as delicious as they looked. First class. Son’s sausage roll smelt as average as it looked, I wasn’t tempted to take a bite. A decision he validated with his review. Disappointing.
We hit the road to Eugowra, the sun tipping down towards the horizon. It is a very pretty drive from Canowindra to Eugowra. Very very pretty. Fields of crops, golden canola, and the rich vibrant green of what we assume to be wheat. Across in the near distance low hills provide a beautiful backdrop. None cleared. Indeed there is still quite a reasonable amount of trees and cover here and the in the country side all the way from Orange – at least visually. It makes a nice contrast to the overcleared land and hills around Gundagai and south to the Victorian border along the Hume Hwy. Along the road we pass a hot spot of birds and daughter (who is driving) is instructed to chuck a U-ey and pull over so we can have a good look. A fair sized flock of fairy martins stopping to drink in a pool of standing water. Rufous songlarks (?) flying and singing enthusiastically all around. We turn back around towards Eugowra and pass down a detour where the road bridge has collapsed to a creek or irrigation channel crossing. Eugowra is a sweet little town, very small but there are a few people around at this end of the day. However it’s late and we don’t stop. Instead we make the turn up the Escort Way. It is very pretty and I find myself wondering how it compares scenically to the Cargo Road, as it is a more direct route down from Orange to Eugowra. After a few kilometres we pull over in the Escort Rock rest stop. There is a plaque describing in brief the events of the robbery of the gold escort about which I have recently read in Nick Bleszynski’s book on Ben Hall. There’s a few birds around. Mum wanders around for a bit of a birdwatching. A very coarse croaking call gets my attention and I spot an apostle bird high in a gum before it flies off. The actual site of the robbery is on adjoining private land but you can go through a closed gate for a look OK and this I decide to do.



Up a fairly modest slope a sign points out the wheel ruts from the original road (though they are not particularly easy to distinguish). I follow the path of the road as it rounds the turn before arriving at escort rock which of course provides a suitable ambush site. I enjoy walking along trying to see the original path and enjoy the solitude imagining the events of the robbery in the golden glow of the late afternoon light. I walk on past the rock into the more wooded area and return to look back towards the rock.

It is very quiet here, not even much birdsong. I look up the hill and wonder how far it is to the site where the horses were held waiting. As I return down the hill a couple arrive and start the walk up to the rock. We exchange a friendly g’day and the wife and I have a bit of a chat, the hubby having gone ahead up the hill.
Back again on the road it’s past 5 oclock and sun is dipping low to the horizon. Shortly after departing Eugowra on the Forbes-Eugowra road the broad countryside evolves into wooded country lining the road with native timber. Finally we come into Forbes and hunt around for a short while before finding our accommodation – the Lake Forbes Motel – which is clean and comfortable. Great value. Definitely at the upper end of 3 ½ star motels. We have a twin room and a family room which could actually accommodate us all, but which involves a fairly substantial set of stairs which are somewhat of a problem for mum. Once you’re up the stairs though it’s a big comfortable room with a double bed and 3 good sized singles. Very comfortable.
Our twin is at ground level and is fresh and clean smelling. A very pleasant room indeed. I dip my toes in the pool which is beautifully refreshing though too cool to really be tempting for a dip. We unload the car and head into Forbes to pick up some supplies and something for the hungry ones to eat. Forbes is a very nice town. Not spoiled by national or international chains too much. Definitely much nicer than Mudgee! LOL Plenty of evocative heritage buildings. Beautiful old street lamps. In particular the building with the bushrangers hall of fame in it is a very beautiful building. Refreshed and stocked up with some king island yoghurt and subway for Son we head on back to the motel. We have a light dinner and chill out talking – and writing this of course. A tiring and enjoyable day. And a really lovely drive through the beautiful central west. Gods own country.

Kamay Botany Bay National Park

Today we decided to go for a walk. Our choice of destination was due to a discussion on the Tripadvisor boards on this park, which made me realise it's been decades since we ventured over that way. It's a pretty inconvient park from Macarthur really and I nearly pike out on going that far today, but hubby is keen. When he was kid you could get a ferry over from La Pa (ie La Perouse) so it's nostalgic territory for him. There is also a big redevelopment of Botany Bay National Park that started in the last year or so and we're curious to see how it's coming along.

We have a couple of errands this Sunday morning, but we finally get away sometime after 9am. It's M5 towards the city and then King Georges Rd, Tom Ugly's bridge and onto the Boulevarde before Captain Cook Drive whisks you past Shark Park (local footy club and field) to the national park itself.

There's a guy manning the entry, handing out leaflets warning visitors that national parks is planning a big crack down on people failing to "pay and display". Our ticket nicely decorating the dash we make our way into the park and I'm dazzled by the beautiful mature sandy country trees so typical of coastal sydney bushland. My absolute favourite native tree - Angophera Costata (Sydney redgum or according to the parks signs Smooth Barked Apple - though I've never heard ordinary people call it that) also the sentimental favourite Scribbly Gum (eucalyptus haemostoma). How I love scribbly gums, especially E. Haemostoma my old childhood friend.. Tall and thriving. My spirit sings to greet them and I am already glad we came. The air rings with beautiful birdsong. The tinkling chime of the Crimson Rosellas, and chattering of Eastern Rosellas and Noisy Mynas.

We park in the visitor or "discovery centre" carpark. The plans look great and there are boards up explaining what's being done. First cab off the rank we go inside the visitor centre for a quick squizz. It's all a bit of a shemozzle at the moment but people unaware of the history can still access some information boards and artifacts to do with Captain Cook and the first fleet. There's a movie theaterette which is playing some nature film that looks pretty irrelevant. We don't hang around in here long.
In front of the visitor centre (facing the bay) is a huge expanse of grass with beautiful big shady trees. Perfect for a traditional Aussie family picnic with a game of tennis ball cricket after lunch. We head down across the grass and I note that you'd certainly want to be wearing something on your feet here in the warmer months as the ground is an absolute carpet of bindii and other prickles. The view of the bay smacks us in the face. You look straight at the oil refinery. Not terribly inspiring. Hubby is happy to see Bare Island a short way across the neck of the bay and snaps a photo or two. Very fond of Bare Island is my hubby. He's a Botany boy.
We venture around the foreshore, trying to ignore the cargo ship mored just offshore. The waveless sandy beach is fairly narrow but the water is clear and looks inviting for paddling, though a bit rocky a little way out. There's a line of mature norfolk island pines along the waterfront and memorials periodically. We stop at the memorials to Sir Joseph Banks and Lieutenant James Cook (aka Captain Cook)... actually writing this brings to mind the old Aussie childhood rhyme. I wonder if I can remember it correctly:
Captain Cook chased a chook all around Australia, he jumped the fence and tore his pants and landed in Tasmania..... but I digress..
Moving on from Captain Cook we note the ferry waiting terminal under construction with a rustic character and the actual rock onto which the first ashore stepped which seems to have a plaque erected on it. Four oyster catchers are taking a nap on the rock, with their pitch black feathers and red bill and eye ring. Not far way is another construction zone where they are reinstating the original fresh water stream that ran into the bay at this spot and then putting a bridge across it. We walk past and head up hill and back towards the visitor's centre coming across a bark mulch path leading over the dune forest. Signs are placed to explain the work that is evident all about in this area. Exotic trees and plants are being removed to restore the original banksia forest. Hubby and I are thinking alike and he speaks my mind when he says, "we should come back in 10 years!"
Back at the car park we head off for our walk. We've grabbed a map from the information centre. Better than nothing but it's not much good really. We start out on the Muru track which is quite substantial, however after a short while we veer off along a walking track when I hear some variegated fairy wrens calling a way in. A short distance up this track I am rewarded with two male variegated wrens perching up in clear sight with the naked eye. Glorious! There's a lot of calling in the undergrowth also.
We climb over a dune hill and start to head down the other side, admiring the wildflowers in bloom. A sulphur crested cockatoo flies down low and glides along the path with a final upswing onto a branch overhanging the path and raises his crest with a quizzical look at us over his shoulder. The bushland here is pristine and the smell of this coastal forest takes me back to childhood in an instant. This is the same sort of bushland you get around Pittwater and the northern sydney beaches.
We're not real sure where we are going as the track we took is not marked on the map but after a time we come to an intersection with what I take to be the Yena track and speak briefly with a solo bike rider passing by.
She's not sure it's the Yena track but she thinks it may be. We turn in the opposite way to that suggested by hubby - he has a terrible sense of direction - and again after a short while we find a narrow post with an arrow on it suggesting we might like to turn up another narrow walking track. It's heading in roughly the way we want to go so we take a drink from our back pack and move along that way. As we travel we are greeted by a superb display of flannel flowers which supplement the various yellow pea flowers we have been enjoying along the way. The flannel flowers are as high as I am in places and clearly thriving. What a delight!

Eventually we emerge from the shade of the forest into the heathland and are greeted by glorious views across to La Perouse and up the eastern coastline. The picture below doesn't come close to doing the scene justice of course... but just as well, you surely want to experience it for yourself.. The heath is also abundantly flowering. Along with the flannel flowers (which are shorter here in the full sun) there are the yellow pea flowers, some blue lechenaultia (?) white pimelia type flowers and various heaths with their dainty white stars in densely packed columns.

Further along still we start to get the glorious rich crimson and white of the fuschia heath - epacris longiflora - packed with flowers and dotted all over the heathland. It is such a beautiful wildflower. There's also eriostemon with it's lovely starry white flowers. This is fantastic! When we set out I wasn't thinking about it being spring wildflower season again already. The New Holland honeyeaters are occassionally flitting over.
I never enjoyed heathland as a child. Forests were my thing and the deeper and shadier the better. Burning so easily in the sun was part of it I'm sure. As I get older I am finding I really enjoy the heathland and appreciate the delicate beauty of its wildflowers and dense green mosses. .. I still wouldn't be keen to walk through in the height of summer at this time of day though!
The path at this point is basically bare sandstone patches between the shrubbery. We start to see some decidedly industrial chimney stacks to the south, and then a huge storage tank of some sort. We can see the ocean so we are clearly heading in the right direction. Finally we come to a lookout and carpark with toilet facilities perched just behind some impressive cliffs. We have arrived at Cape Solander lookout. We spend a little time admiring the waves crashing on the rocks. Snap a few photos. A short sit at the picnic table in the whale watching shelter. A bit of a brief look at the whale identification charts. Then we're on the move again.
We choose to walk along the road to the Yena picnic area. The nicest aspect of this walk was the flowering tea trees bordering the road. The detour off the road slightly to look over the picnic area, which is shadeless and has ocean views. We thought it was pretty ugly, so we move on, heading up the Yena track when we come to it. This section passes through some tall trees on either side of the path. Still some wildflowers and tea tree. It's an immediate improvement on the main drag. We come to the intersection we passed earlier in our walk and head on down towards the visitor centre. There is a boardwalk with signs identifying some of the trees and shrubs so we follow that. Very pleasant and we enjoy it but it's not as beautiful as other parts of the walk. Back at the carpark, we take the drive out to Cape Solander to check it out from a vehicle perspective. We think the drive is pretty dull and the lookouts pretty average for coastal Sydney. From the road you would never guess the floral splendour hidden amongst the heathland or in the deeper parts of the bushland behind it. .... This is not the kind of landscape that is best appreciated at speed. If you didn't walk in this park you could be forgiven for wondering "why bother" but the walking was delightful.
We also saw some great birding sights along the way. Birds at nesting hollows and of course those fairy wrens. The beautiful call of spotted pardalotes and butcherbirds. All pretty special. We head off home for rest before lighting the barbie for dinner.. our appetites whetted by the smell of bbq smoke in the picnic grounds. We've been in the park for about 3 hrs I guess. I make a mental note to come back for a family picnic with the grandchildren.

PS the bbq dinner was delicious :o)

Bloody great shark

Happy Birthday Dad

Day 1
A long weekend to head off to Port Macquarie for a family celebration. We’re late getting away and it’s pushing 11 am before we finally head off. The signs are warning of long delays on the M7 and we’re a bit dirty on the tollways at the moment anyway (something fishy going on with our account) so we mosey up the Cumberland Highway and onto the F3 heading out of Sydney. This is an unexpected boon to daughter2 as Pennant Hills Road – the section from James Ruse Drive to the M2 intersection is her favourite Sydney road. Each to their own.
We had been planning to find a picnic spot where we could take a break and go for a walk, but honestly it’s a bit of a wasteland for quality walks without significant detours off our route and time is now short. We end up pulling over at the 12 Mile Rest Area where we tuck into our corn fritters with smoked salmon and yoghurt dressing. It’s quite busy at the time and we are lucky to get a convenient table where Mum doesn’t have to walk too far. Towards the end of our meal a family of grey butcher birds flies over to start polishing off the morsels that the picnickers have left.. The male with his clearer black plumage on his head, baby in shades of brown. Quite a treat. I seem to be finding families of birds everywhere I go lately.
As we’re hopping back in the car I get a call from daughter1. Where are we? – in Port yet? They’re a bit later than expected after stopping for yum cha for lunch in Sydney. They’re just past Newcastle.. we chat for a minute or two, then daughter announces that they are approaching the twelve mile… aah, we can’t let them overtake us… I jump in the car and dig the spurs into the driver for quick get away and we pull out with much hilarity with daughter and son-in-defacto only a car or two behind us!! At least we kept the lead LOL. We still can’t get over the incredible coincidence – we couldn’t have planned it better if we tried..
The shadows lengthen as we continue north. It’s a fairly uneventful drive though I particularly enjoy crossing the bridges up in the Manning Point area, as they raise us up to be able to see across the floodplain to the surrounding hills. We also enjoy the golden light falling on the gums lining the road. As we approach Kew I suggest that it’s the perfect time of day to take Mum up North Brother for a look at the view and visibility seems pretty good today. So we turn off to Laurieton. Hubby misses the turn as usual and we turn the convoy around – this is one of our specialities. It’s always entertaining following our car! We climb up the hill reminiscing about the time we brought the kids up here one night to look at fairyland below. The kids were mucking about scaring eachother with stories of murderers and stuff. Identifying a car parked nearby as a potential threat. Son1 had recently won a nifty little mini-maglite (went to some sort of talk with a computer professional who promised the torch to anyone who could ask him a question he couldn’t answer).. anyway before we can stop them, they’ve shone this blinking torch in the windows of the parked car, only to exclaim at finding the predictable going on inside… great way to get yourself beaten up – we herd the mob over to the lookout furthest away, with much loud castigation for the benefit of the car's occupants. Fortunately the couple in the car decided to clear off without an ugly confrontation. Phew...
Anyway today we pull up, with the place to ourselves as the sun sets. Extensive views across both sides of the hill. The lookout to the north east looks across Laurieton/Dunbogan, Lake Cathie and up the coast to Port and further. The other side to the south and west, over Crowdy Bay National Park, Harrington and south as well as the rivers and flood plain and down to Middle Brother and South Brother.
Hubby and I are still anxious for that walking opportunity so we grab at the chance to walk the 500m rainforest loop, which along the way takes in a lookout that looks to Diamond Head. Diamond Head isn’t visible from the other lookouts. As we head down the rainforest track, passing the assisted disabled access path, we plunge into darkness. Just enough light remains to be able to travel along this path which has an uneven surface and occasional roots to look out for.. typical basic bush track. We disturb a large macropod of some sort... probably a wallaby. A dark shadow thumps away further into the bush. We stop briefly to admire the view and the sunset. Nice to be alone for a few minutes. Then we power up the hill via the bitumen disabled access path and back to the car. In the coastal towns and villages the lights are starting to come on. Time to go.
We wind our way down the hill and admire the black silhouettes of the trees against the deep orange skyline which fades to deepening shades of blue. Australian trees with their light canopy are made for silhouette and sunset is such a gorgeous time of day. Rather than head back to the highway we take our time travelling up Ocean Drive to Port Macquarie through Laurieton and Lake Cathie and past the christmas bell plain, arriving at our destination after 6pm.
No flies on daughter1 – she departed when we set off on our walk to check in to our apartment before reception closes. She and son-in-defacto have nabbed the master bedroom with spa LOL. Fair enough, first come first served and she was the one who organised the accommodation and in the end negotiated us an upgrade. She’s a wizard at such things. … anyway we are staying at Ki-ea All Seasons Apartments on William street. It’s a good location. Only a short walk to either Town Beach or the centre of Port. Secure underground parking and disabled access to the lift for Grandma and Grandad. Our 3 bedroom apartment (no 50 on the 7th floor) is HUGE. Two queen beds and two singles for our party of 6. Full ensuite – with that spa as well as the bathroom and separate toilet for the rest of us. A large dining and lounge area. Fully equipped nicely appointed kitchen – smeg microwave, granite benchtops, polyurethane cabinetry to kitchen and bathroom. Full Laundy neatly concealed behind bi-fold doors. But beyond all this an ENORMOUS, yes humongously enormous balcony area with ocean views to the north east. From the rail you can see right up the coast. There is a sizeable bbq and a large shade sail and two 6 large seater tables, as well as a couple of recliners. Brilliant if you wanted to have a party. Downstairs there is a heated pool and spa and a sauna. On the roof there are more shared facilities but we didn’t get up to check those out. Only down side, a pretty average TV to those of us grown accustomed to big LCDs/Plasmas (though it does have Austar) and the carpet is a bit grubby… not bad for the $210 a night that we are paying for the 6 of us (min stay 2 nights which suits us).
We settle in briefly before piling into the one car to head around and say hi to Grandad and let him know we’ve arrived. Half an hour of chit chat and we make our way back into town to the Pancake Place which we generally find quite satisfactory – the side salads on the savoury options are always fun with lots of fruit – even in this cooler time of year we have strawberry and blueberry, watermelon, mandarine, orange, peach, grape and pineapple, and that’s before we start on the vegetables and pretzels. By the way, the potato and bacon is far and away the best of the savoury options.. trust me.. The décor at the pancake place is lairy to say the least. Bright green rainforest motif. We are in a holiday mood and back up for dessert and find they are not stingy with the liqueurs in the liqueur crepes. Very nice and we’re out of there for only $200 for the six of us which includes the two courses and multiple drinks – the soft drinks are the tiny bottle size and are a bit of a rip, so you are better off to go for the spiders or iced chocolate. Better value.
We call it a night. We’re all pretty tired – daughter 1 is wrecked having just returned from a leisure industry senior managers conference on the Gold Coast where little sleep was had over the 4 days; daughter2 is coming down with a nasty cold – both of them have uni assignments to work on as well; son-in-defacto is looking wrecked too after a long week of hard work. Hubby settles in to watch the footy and I join him, while for Grandma it’s never a bad time to rest.

Day 2
To say we are sluggish this morning would be an understatement. Hubby and I are probably more tired than yesterday – the down side of buying a comfy bed at home – going away is never as comfortable..
We can’t even get our act together to go for a swim.. only daughter1 and I have our cozzies with us just in case. Daughter1 never leaves home without a cozzie, in fact most of the time she keeps a cozzie in the car just in case the opportunity for a swim arises…born a water baby like her grandad. Later in the morning my brother arrives. He’s flown up on frequent flyer points and left the family at home this time. He’s staying at the backpackers as he only needs a bed for the one night – turns out it’s just around the corner - how convenient. He's stayed there before and finds it quite satisfactory. We all hang about chatting on the balcony before finally motivating ourselves to get ready for our celebration lunch. Brother takes off to go and see Dad and make sure he’s ready and appropriately attired. Just as well he wasn’t any later doing this as he finds Dad beginning to tuck into some lunch.
Our celebration is at the Little Fish Café, at the winery down Major Innes Road, which has long been a favourite of Dads. My sister and her hubby, daughter and grand-daughters are in position when we arrive. They are closer so they've driven up thismorning. Sister and Niece are totally totally wrecked having stayed up all night working on the birthday book for Grandad – who has turned 80 this week. Sister is way more into party preparation than the rest of us and has come armed with silly hats which we all put on taking care to distribute the colours appropriately around the table…
Little Fish Café is generally reliable. A lovely location, big under cover verandah with disabled access. No sooner than we are settled than a heavy shower of rain comes down, but it doesn’t bother us. We start out with a selection of breads and an antipasto platter. Garlic on Turkish, pesto on toasted Turkish, a delicious tomato tapenade on toasted Turkish and warmed Mediterranean bread with caramelised balsamic and virgin olive oil. All delicious. The antipasto platter has fetta stuffed peppers; a delicious Tasmanian brie beautifully runny with water crackers; small pieces of Turkish, more of the delicious tomato tapenade, olives, salami… all delicious..
Mains were a bit disappointing on this occasion – the Pork Belly with Red Cabbage and Mash was popular, but the skin wasn’t crisp (grrr) a fairly serious failing for port belly IMHO. The steaks looked great and were enjoyed by all who ordered them. Brother was a little disappointed in his prawns and calamari finding it a bit tasteless. By the time we got to dessert some options weren’t available, however the rhubarb and apple crumble was good. The little sticky date puddings were OK too. Sticky Date is a tough choice to put on your menu these days. So many places do it, and even Sara Lee does a very good one, so you can be up against some tough competition when it comes to assessment time, but seriously, how bad can sticky date pudding get?
Finally the singing and cake and we all adjourn back to our place for the rest of the evening. Brilliant to have somewhere that accommodates everyone so well and where we can bring Dad to get him out of the hostel for the whole day. Elder grand-niece, and various grown ups playing cards. Sister, niece and daughter1 continuing work on the scrapbooking; hubby and I show Dad our house plans – ah, maximum 15 power points per circuit I’ve been meaning to ask him about that– just what I needed to know… The younger grand-niece (almost three) is having a great time playing with the men… hubby pretends to eat her arm and she giggles like crazy and struggles free and runs, but she’s back in a minute with a huge grin.. Very cute
For dinner we end up sending Brother and Son-in defacto out for “Off the Hook” (fish and chips) while the two rabid Manly fans (hubby and brother-in-law) settle in to watch the footy on Austar.
After a while I hear a light snoring and there is much merriment to find that younger grand niece is splayed out flat on her back arms and legs out like a cross fast asleep under the table. Only two speeds apparently – full go or complete stop! Her sister has done similar on the bedroom floor near her mum.. the girls are settled on the beds in the quiet room and the table is cleared for the returning hunters laden with several large parcels of paper wrapped chips and seafood. Off the Hook is always great. I haven't had bad off the hook in gosh, must be 15 years now.
Finally the gift giving. We all admire beautifully presented photos of Dad and his family through the years. Sister has done a magnificent job. Dad small and blond with his father and friends aged about 4 or 5 at (if dad's memory has it right) Whale Beach (Sydney) – must be about 1932,


a slim and muscular Pop in his full body swimmers sitting on the sand proud as punch of his little boy sitting between legs splayed out on the sand. Dad same age with friends all wearing sea-weed skirts;


A muscular and very handsome Dad standing and surfing in to shore on a wooden surf ski at south steyne 1948 (and looking just like son2) no doubt the surf ski would have belonged to Manly surf club where Dad was a member.

Dad holding an absolutely massive lobster and a large crab – Harrington similar vintage. Dad with huge catches of fish and a fantastic informal pose with the spear gun he made himself– Harrington again.

Dad on his motor cycle in his riding leathers by the sign to Brisbane.


Dad bearded working at the Kiewa power scheme (electrical fitter);

snow skiing (he got good enough to go cross country on his own);
….down the years…standing in his flight gear with other flight crew on the ladder getting into the air force plane;
flying in formation in lincolns (man he loves those shots he took himself – flying way close you can even see the faces of the pilots in the plane behind); wedding photos Dad handsome in dress uniform, Mum looking gorgeous;

Mum and Dad newly married Dad manning the BBQ frame over a low fire - Dad was the best bbq cook!

Good times on Cero (my grandparents motor cruiser). Never mind borrow the car, Pop would let Dad take the boat out on his own when Dad was 16 which was quite a chick magnet apparently. Of course it doesn’t hurt to be a top looking bloke either…Dad was awesome at handling boats...

Dad with his marlin – Dad’s marlin on the wall, his fishing record certificates; Us kids; grandkids – (great and fairly recent photos of my kids I haven’t seen before – even a good one of me- now that’s rare), great grandkids… pilot’s license, whale watching, Ball’s pyramid, every photo looking better than ever before. I’ve been delayed completing my pages – so it’s good to see what’s already in the album. Mine will be more Dad but playing with my kids at Towlers Bay (Pittwater), taking them flying and teaching them to fish at Lake Cathie. Never mind blood, Dad has salt water in his veins and the sky in his heart. Two great life long passions.#
Day 3
Not quite so slow a start today. Daughter1 and I venture down for a swim, daughter2 for a sauna to try and clear her head a bit. The air is colder today after a cool change but the water is a lovely temperature – the spa even better. A few laps and we adjourn to the sauna which is only just heating up.
We dress and pack and head over to visit Dad for a while. He’s enjoying the visitors. Not too many visitors day by day as all the family is either in Sydney or the Central Coast. The downside of retiring a long way from the family. We say our goodbyes and after giving mum a bit of a guided tour around Dad’s previous Port residences we hit the highway.
I’m a bit over the highway so suggest we head in to Gloucester for lunch. We think the scenery heading up into the ranges is beautiful. We stop at Mograni Lookout for expansive views over Gloucester in a stiff breeze, then head down into the town. There’s a few eateries open. We choose to dine at Perenti arriving just in time as the tables are filling fast. Daughter and Hubby have smoked chicken and pesto penne which they both enjoy. Mum has salmon cakes which are OK, while I go for the chunky meat pie with tomato and olive chutney – well above average. Side salads have a delicious dressing. We follow up with a couple of pieces of passionfruit cheesecake to share. Very nice. We like our cheesecakes unbaked. Everything incredibly reasonable in price. Most mains under $10, the cakes $4.90. We buy some Perenti apricot and almond confiture and some Byron Bay muesli and set off for home.
We don’t’ get too far before the traffic is at a complete stop. Fatality up ahead. Local civilians are directing the traffic. As we reach first in line we are asked were we are heading and given directions for a detour. This is an unexpected bonus, I wouldn’t have had the nerve to suggest a dirt detour today, but here we are exploring the way down through Waukivory to the Pacific Highway. Interesting, but fairly standard scenery for the area – which is pretty good of course.
Once we’re back on the highway it’s a pretty standard trip home.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!
# I’ve been hanging out to get digital copies of the photos sis restored, but finally I figure I’d better post the text so this blog doesn't get just too ridiculously out of order, and get back to upload the photos when I get round to collecting the disc… stay tuned.