Day 3 - Morning Walk at the zoo and on to Lightning Ridge

Sunday 19th September
I sleep really badly and am almost inclined to skip the early morning walk at the zoo. But its 5 am and I can hear mum up and about downstairs. I drag myself from the bed without enthusiasm and begin the process of dressing, packing up and quietly loading the car. We’re on the road and in the queue at the entrance gate by 6:35. We pay for our walk, park and get assigned to one of several groups heading off and being lead by volunteers from zoo friends. A bit of a delay as we organize a wheelchair for mum and daughter and I manage to miss the bit about the African hunting dogs, but eventually we’re on our way. We’re all set and the walk really gets underway.

The route is adapted to the circumstances of the times, and with all the construction, at the moment the tour is heading down the back route and up through the behind the scenes area. First stop is the black rhinos.

The buses from the zoofari lodge are ahead of us and the keeper is feeding the rhino some branches. The differences between the black and white rhinos are explained and eventually, having taken our time here, we move along. Up through past Barbary sheep pens and camel pens and on to the giraffes. Quite a good herd and a number of babies among them. Our guide has a bag of carrots which are fed to the giraffes and gives a great opportunity for photos.
We also visited the enclosure for the white rhinos and the difference between white and black rhinos is explained, it having nothing to do with their colour of course. It’s all about their lips.
A stop at the Eland enclosure gives an opportunity for our guide to explain that the black bar on the backs of their knees helps them to locate eachother in bad conditions and that in dust storms where they cannot see eachother, eland communicate with eachother by clicking their knees! Wow!
There’s a stop at the hippos and while there’s nothing much doing with the hippos determinedly dozing, at least they are visible. Their enclosure is undergoing a revamp. Dredging and new fencing so there’s not much in the way of water in it at the moment. When they finish and let the water back in it will be 5 star hippo facilities, but the down side is that it gives the hippos max opportunity to just sit under the water where they cannot be seen.
Moving right along we stop for some entertainment from the white handed gibbon. As strong as six men their strength would not be guessed at from their slim proportions. And next door we have the siamangs. They wait for the groups to assemble and then they put on another fabulous display for the crowd. The groups are all back together at this point and I take the opportunity to listen in on the commentary from several different guides, all of which have something interesting to impart.
By this time the zoo is open and we are nearing the end of our tour, so with thanks to Sharon, our guide, we head our separate ways. I need to go check out of the accommodation which we should have done yesterday but I didn’t. Oh well. It’s only a short drive and I’m back meeting up with Mum and daughter at the café. Mum’s tucking into a pie. Not something I would choose at this sort of outlet, but each to their own.
We have hung on to the wheelchair for our wander in amongst the spider monkeys, lemurs, meerkats and aviary. These are located around the Savannah picnic area. This is a wonderful space with electric bbqs, extensive play equipment and some toilets. In the redeveopment it appears that this will be accessible without paying zoo entry, encouraging locals to utilise the facilities.
Heading first to the meerkats we stop at the army memorial. Apparently the zoo sits on the site of the old army camp from WWII. Interesting.
We spend some time talking to a volunteer observer at the meerkat enclosure. She is helping out by recording events in the enclosure. This is necessary because a new female has been introduced and there has been some ructions as a result. We get lots of interesting information about the meerkats and recent events re the new female. All very interesting indeed. We have been very lucky to be here when a volunteer was here to talk to us.
Conscious that time is moving on and I want to be at the otter feeding on time, we move on to the aviary and find it has a number of very beautiful birds. Diamond Firetails flit past you with their flashes of brightest red. They perch and we can see the beautiful black with diamond spotting along their wings. They are truly a gorgeous bird.

One of my most treasured birding memories was during my first visit to the Capertee Valley we were driving along in a farmers wheat paddock with the windows open and a small flock of diamond firetails decided to amuse themselves by flying alongside. You can never get a better view of a firetail than that.

Back in the aviary, a couple of turquoise parrots in great condition fly right in front of me to land nearby. Superb parrots sit at a feeding station and forage on the ground. It is awesome. I head along the path and find a mallee fowl happily steering clear of trouble. Nearer the exit a couple of white browed woodswallows are perched within easy viewing. Lovely birds, woodswallows like to roost in large communal groups where they snuggle up to one another. Acrobatic flyers they feed on the wing and are very impressive to see in a flock by a dam as we did out in the pilliga driving the birding routes of Baradine. We make our way out. We pass on the wombat and echidna and head back to the car.
Our next stop is to the Asian smalled clawed otters. Feeding will be happening soon. On the way around the loop again we find the addax herd is out and they have the cutest little baby among them.. aaaah..
We park as close to the otters as we can. Mum’s not feeling well but she drags herself in. Otters are as cool as meerkats. Daughter reminisces as we walk about seeing the sea otters at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago. They were soooo cool. There’s quite a crowd waiting it is hard to get an even reasonable viewing spot. The otters are waiting too, bounding around and standing up against the fence looking for the keeper.

At the scheduled time the keeper arrives and starts flinging green prawns around in the enclosure. Some into the water, some into the rocky area across to the side. The otter pair (a partnered male and female) race like demons to the food and position themselves one in each area and are going for it for all they are worth. The one near the pool swims down and grabs several prawns and heads back up onto the step to munch away enthusiastically. Otters are very active animals and need a lot of sustenance. This is their fourth feed for today.

The keeper makes his presentation and it’s all over fairly quickly, which is handy as we want to have a look at the Indian rhino.. which I should be calling by its proper name, hmm, I think that’s something like greater one horned rhinoceros or something cumbersome like that. At any rate this Asiatic rhinoceros is way cool. It’s armour plating is more well, more like armour plating and it moves as the beast walks. These rhinos came so very close to extinction, but over the years the program for recovery has been pretty successful and there’s now a few thousand of them. At one point we are interested to read the remaining rhinos in Nepal were protected by 1000 troops. Pretty impressive effort there by Nepal. Well done.

Time is getting uncomfortably close to the Cheetah talk and that is way over on the other side of the zoo. Mum is really feeling crook now and is obliged to stop by the path. She manages to rid herself of just a little of the contents of her stomach, she’s hot and really not doing too good, but she feels a little better. We definitely blame the pie. I wish I had been there to stop her buying such a thing. Pies can be risky and you need to be choosy about where you buy them. Buying a pie somewhere like the outlets here is like buying a pie at a servo. Not a good plan. Not a good plan at all. I hope mum doesn’t get really drastically ill.

Anyway, we head on as quickly as the 10km speed limit will allow, over to the African section. Park the car and I dash up the path to the cheetah talk. Mum was going to wait and see if from our report if they are really king cheetahs, but as there’s no time before the talk she drags herself in keen to see a king cheetah. It is a very interesting talk. The four young cheetah on display are two spotted males and two king cheetah (striped) females. They are just awesome. Cheetahs are sooo cool. I am so glad we made it to the talk. We loiter for a while until the keeper is one his way, listening to questions being asked and admiring the female cheetah who is pacing in front of the water filled moat and giving a cute sort of squeak, begging the keeper for some more tasty treats. Apparently these guys aren’t stupid either, and without the treats offered by the keeper they would probably just hang out over at the back of their large enclosure near the bamboo.
Just one more stop to make. Daughter is determined to see the maned wolf. One our way round past the lake we spot a pair of purple swamp hens and their family of 6 fluffy black chicks. The chicks are all feet and they look like a wind up toy as they walk along their short little legs rotating these enormous feet.. or like a cartoon where they have the legs rotating in full circles, they are seriously cute.

At the maned wolf display Grandma is too unwell and tired to worry about it. It looks like the entrance to the enclosure is really close to the parking area, but there’s a long boardwalk ramp in to a high viewing platform. We look around the enclosure. No joy. We’re just on the verge of leaving when daughter looks back and there it is. These animals come from South America and live alone rather than in packs. I am rather surprised to find it is a very very beautiful animal. I mentally name it Eva after Eva Peron! I tried determined to get a shot which may do it justice, but I don’t think I really succeeded. Long legs like a race horse, black socks, white tail, elegant silky looking coat. Glad to meet you Eva! We find also that mum was right. I do like the smell of the enclosure. It does indeed smell like mint bush or sidonie lavender. Yep, it’s Eva Peron in there alright.

With the maned wolf viewing out of the way, it’s time to say farewell to Dubbo and head north to Lightning Ridge. I don’t know how we managed it but we failed to stop at the Cooee Centre in Gilgandra. I really am amazed because I really wanted to do that. Oh well, I guess we will have to come back for that!
It’s a straightforward drive north. The road is lined with shrubs smothered in yellow. From the road it appears to be beautiful golden wattle. It is certainly putting on a display. Its great to be on the road again.
After a while, we come to what I now refer to as Gulargambone parrots. At first there is one, depicted flying. A bit further on there is a group of two.. still flying… then closer still to Gulargambone there are three flying parrots.. once you get into town the parrots are perched in the town. Made from corrugated iron, I really enjoy looking out for these birds which from our previous explorations, seem to be erected on all the various routes into Gulargambone. They were a great idea. Quite unique.
Heading up towards Walgett we are roughly following the course of the Castlereagh River. We cross it at Coonamble. The last time we were in Coonamble it was hot and dry as a bone. There’s been a couple of floods through since and everything is much greener. Daughter excitedly recognizes the servo where we had an ice cream on our last visit. Man that was a lovely cold treat on a hot dusty day.
As we approach into the Walgett district it is rainly lightly. There is standing water on either side of the road. Mum and I begin a game of spotting water birds. Pacific Heron! White Ibis! Two more pacific heron! Straw necked ibis! Pacific Heron flying… no, sorry, that’s a white faced heron. On and on we go I’ve never seen so many pacific heron in my life. Keeps us entertained for the drive! Crops are looking happy. It’s a cheerful drive with wipers running. We make a stop for something or other, probably to change drivers, and take the opportunity to photograph the roadside environment and the beautiful view up the highway. We really love he grasses that line the route..


We cross the Castlereagh again further north and it is flowing high. Vegetation which is clearly not usually in the river stands with feet submerged. I think of the poetic references to this iconic river as we excitedly snap a photo or three. .. actually pretty much all rivers in Australia are iconic aren’t they? At any rate I’m gradually ticking off those that are in NSW at any rate.



Drawing ever nearer to Walgett daughter is rather taken by the road sign to Come by Chance. Have I ever mentioned we are easily amused?

Finally we arrive in Walgett itself and add to our growing collection of town name signs.

It’s getting dark as we head on from Walgett to the Ridge and lightly raining. I’m sleepy and only indulge in opening my eyes for an occasional glance as the scenery round about. Luckily, daughter is taking a turn at the wheel!
Arriving in Lightning Ridge we find a respectable small town with street lighting and to all immediate appearances, quite like many a small town.
We check in to the Bluey Motel. It’s clean and comfortable. A bit of an aroma from, I believe, the cleaning products, which mum is a little concerned about, but which with an airing is no problem. Mum isn’t hungry, but daughter and I head over to the bowling club across the road for a spot of dinner. There's not too many options around for an evening meal so the decision regarding where to go is not a difficult one. The girl on the desk is very diligent about checking ID for confirmation of postcode. Daughter has left her ID behind so goes back to get it. I wait and amuse myself by admiring an awesome painting in the lobby. By local artist John Murray it is a desolate outback scene with variegated wrens here and there. Devoid of Murray’s usual wry humour, well, at least in any way that is obvious, it is very striking.
At the bistro, I go for a pork schnitzel and veges, daughter goes the lamb roast which she reports was very nice. My schnitzel was nice and the veges not overcooked which is always good. LLB from the bar for daughter, I stuck with water. Drinks are good value too at only a couple of dollars.. maybe $2.80 for a schooner of LLB.
We waste no time retiring after dinner. It’s been a long but very enjoyable day. Still, one has to be very tired to not check email and here at the Bluey we have free wireless internet. This place is outstanding value for money and you couldn’t have a more hospitable hostess.

Finally it's lights out and we rest up for what turns out to be a brilliant couple of days in the Ridge.

Day 2 - Taronga Western Plains Zoo (aka Dubbo Zoo)

A slow morning. Daughter is working her way through a “clinical” lecture in preparation for a clinical exam on her return to uni. I slowly blog and field teasing from mum who cannot imagine why I would want to know the colour top the young land rover driver was wearing, (I am sure he was wearing a white singlet top) or how one would describe the way the lady at the strawberry stall was walking. Oh yes, and I am deeply remiss in failing to mention that the plate of bruschetta at The Harrison looked like three neat pigs trotters sitting on the plate. Have I ever mentioned mum spent many hours in childhood finding images in clouds and peeling paint? She has never lost enjoyment in the practice. Oh well, breakfast and blogging completed. Daughter finishes her lecture and we set about preparing for our day at Taronga Western Plains Zoo.

We are in dire need of a trip into the supermarket, so we explore down into central Dubbo for the first time and find it to be another charming town, somewhat reminiscent of Orange with the bare deciduous trees lining the streets. A group of primary school aged kids are selling raffle tickets. We buy one. Maybe win a car.

As we queue in the line of cars entering the Zoo we get a call from the info centre, anxious that we should be signing the disclaimer in preparation for our Big Cat Encounter which is only half an hour away. We seek advice from the lady on the gate as to when and how to hire the electric carts, but she advises that it will not assist us as you are required to park the carts in the parking areas same as a car and are not allowed to take them into the paths in those areas where a cluster of exhibits requires some walking.

We navigate the fencing and witches hats where the construction of a new information centre is nearing completion and find a convenient parking spot. Having done the necessaries, promising to behave ourselves and not blame the zoo if something untoward happens to us during our encounter we make our way around the circuit to the Sumatran Tiger enclosure.

We meet the keeper at the entrance where the signage indicates. Some people are trying it on and suggesting to the guide that perhaps they could each take in their own private photographer? Nice try but no. We head around and enter the behind the scenes world of the Sumatran tiger. With plantings of bamboo and dense greenery the zoo has attempted to provide an environment somewhat similar to the natural environment the tigers prefer.

First up the brush wood paneling is opened to reveal the tiger whose turn it is to entertain the tourists this morning. The general hoi paloi only get to see one tiger at any one time. Today this is a young sexually mature female who is very important genetically as she introduces new blood into the breeding program in Australia. This young lady was hand reared at Dreamworld on the Gold Coast and took part in their experiences until she was judged to be getting a bit too risky in the way she was behaving. Queensland is the only State in Australia where you are permitted to get up close and personal with such large carnivores without an intervening barrier. This feisty girl is judged to need the barrier.

Tigers being solitary animals they are kept separate from one another and take it in turns in the various areas to provide some change of scene. The pay off for having to entertain the tourists is that you also get the large public display area to play in overnight. Each of the tigers has a large space with some grass in which to play around. Much effort is put into designing enrichment experiences to keep the tigers from getting bored. The tigers supplement these with their own efforts. Maybe catch a possum passing through. This sort of opportunistic predation is by no means unusual. Indeed daughter saw a snow leopard pull a possum through the wires of it’s cage when she did roar and snore at Taronga in Sydney. She reported that you look closely you could see bits of fur where other possums had met a similar fate in the past.

We each take it in turns to feed chicken necks to the tigers through the wire mesh with a long pair of tongs. The tigers stand up against the wire and know the score. In description it sounds quite a tame activity but when you are there in the flesh it is really cool. Our second tiger is a male at the peak of condition. He is so much larger than the female. He is a magnificent creature and when he stands up on the wire, all 100 or so kilos of him, there’s only one thought in our minds. “Gosh I wouldn’t like to have him hunting me.” You would have no chance. He’s thirteen years old and from here on in its all down hill for him. The oldest tiger at the zoo is 19. Nineteen is extremely old for a tiger. This elderly female would not be alive in the wild and her behavior suggests she knows it. She couldn’t be bothered coming over for a feed, but that’s OK. It’s tiger sleep time if they had their “druthers”.

Having met all the tigers and listened to a great deal of information about the way the tigers are managed and entertained, as well as the international breeding program for them we finish up with a briefing on the current campaign to have manufacturers label products to show whether or not it contains palm oil. The only hope for the Sumatran tiger is to preserve some habitat. Same habitat is required for the Orangutan. Apparently Coles has indicated that it will introduce this labeling on it’s brand of goods. You can join the campaign online via www.taronga.org.au/palmoil

We check the timetable and find that the next feasible destination is to the Siamang feeding. We head around there just in time to see the keeper in his little tinny departing one side of the enclosure and making his way to the far shore. Two siamang have been sitting on the grass and periodically putting on a marvelous display swinging around the the network of ropes in their enclosure. Then all of a sudden the two apes commence a wonderfully impressive and loud display of calling, displaying and general showmanship. It is like a choreographed performance. They are most impressive apes. They are so seriously cool. A must do if you’re visiting Taronga Western Plains Zoo that’s for sure.

There’s not time to get round from the Siamangs to the Cheetah talk which follows soon after, but we’re all pretty hungry so head to the streets café to eat and watch the small herd of zebra and their young calf. We find the fish and chips is pretty good. Real, fresh fish and quite good chips. Reasonable price too at only $7.50. This was a bit of a surprise because the same outlet sells those individually packaged cakes and stuff, which I find is usually a sign that you need to take a good deal of caution with what you buy... so I have been waiting to see what this stuff mum and daughter have bought is like. Meanwhile I opted for yoghurt and muesli. Silly me I was expecting the thick greek style yoghurt but its just strawberry ski and the muesli is soggy as. Disappointing, but not surprising I suppose. Daughter’s hamburger has potential but they have opted for a quite sausagey meat patty which while a fairly good one for its type is not what we like in our burgers, so that’s a bit of a disappointment. I guess kiwis would like it.

It is only about 2pm or so, but the weather has cooled and we’re getting pretty tired. We decide our last stop for the day will be the tortoise talk at 3pm. On the way around there we watch as a keeper throws bread to the greater rhea and guanaco. Mum tries her hand at getting a photo of the Brazilian Tapir and we note the group of Cavies across towards the back of the enclosure. Time is pressing though and we need to get into position for the Galapagos Tortoise talk that daughter is so looking forward to.
Cruising around the circuit we pass a pretty lake which features a nesting colony of sacred ibis. We understand they have changed the common name of these birds. Not sacred any more apparently. I wonder if they've decided to adjust the accuracy and perhaps now they call them bloody pest ibis. Nah, but seriously you wouldn't want to get into the habit of feeding these guys in this zoo. Could be a problem. I'd also choose somewhere else to picncic. Speaking of picnics, there are a number of nice picnic areas around the zoo. the generally have electric barbeques and I would recommend that the best way to feed yourself at the zoo, if you have a couple of days there is to bring a bbq picnic. Has to be better than the food outlets on site at any rate.

The tortoises have a large enclosure, but at this time of year when it is still quite cold, these tropical reptiles are provided with a heated house with under floor heating. There are 5 tortoises here of unknown age. It is apparently very difficult to tell the age once it is an adult and they have an inordinately long life span. Totally herbivorous at this time of day they are just given a snack of fresh green grass. Once a week they get some high energy fruits and things, which they really love. The keeper relates a range of information about the care and management of these beauties and several people in the audience enthusiastically ask questions. We take some still photos and some video and head back to the car. The maned wolf is next door but we can’t summon the enthusiasm required just at the moment and it’s back up the very slight incline, so for mum we’d need to do another circuit of the zoo. We’re back tomorrow so decide to call it a day and head back to our apartment.

Before we leave the area we decide to take a bit of drive around the tourist circuit. Dundullimal Homestead is only open during the week, but we head in for a bit of a look around Dundullimal Reserve. This involves a good dirt track that winds its way down along the river and back up to the road. We pass a motley crew of heavy horses, a donkey and a shaggy pony who are clustered together under a tree. The donkey looks very fat and oddly misshapen.

We continue on the circuit past Dubbo observatory and a vineyard, which seem to be the same premises. There is a lot of potential for future tourist enterprises along this route.

It’s a simple route back to town, we follow the signs to sus out where Old Dubbo Gaol is, surprised to find its smack bang in the middle of the main road, down a little alley way. Then we miss our turn and turn in the next street. We need some milk, so pull up at the mini market and daughter heads on in to do the deed.

She seems a long time but eventually returns with the milk and a white bag. All smiles she offers us the bag. Lollies. Looking inside these are things we’ve not seen before. One is wedge shaped and striped green white red. Sour watermelon gummy. Yum. Apparently this modest little store has a whole stack of interesting lollies. All three of us head back across the wide road which seems wide enough for a horse and cart to turn in, and introduce ourselves to the lady serving and what appears to be her kids. We spend some time questioning selecting, a little sampling. We laugh with our hostess and finally we are waving goodbye and heading back to the car. Souvenirs in hand. Great little shop and friendly people.

Back at the apartment daughter and mum head off for a nap. I should too, but for some reason I’m mucking about and never make it to the bed. We’re none of us particularly hungry after what proved to be quite a substantial lunch. Mum has her doggie bag from last night, daughter and I sup on some food we brought with us. We vege out doing not a lot then hit the sack.

Day 1 - Friday 17 September - Macarthur to Dubbo

It’s late enough when we finish a spot of lunch and conversation with those we leave behind and hop into the car. We don’t get far before we realize we haven’t printed our itinerary. Again. This gives an opportunity for daughter to grab a windproof jacket.

Mum’s ready when we arrive and we ferry bags to be stowed in the bowels of the car carefully prioritized according to the anticipated need of the contents on our day’s journey. Colour coded for ease of identification, mum hands me a navy blue shopping bag. “That’s my swimmers.”

“Oh #@$%” says I. “I haven’t brought my swimmers.” I am greeted by a few moments of dumb struck awe from mum and daughter. When they finally find words:

“You haven’t brought your swimmers??? But you told me so many times not to forget MY swimmers..”

“I know. Bloody Hell.”

So it’s back home yet again. The pattern of my life these days. I really need a mental health break. I can’t wait to get across the divide.#

Theres a polish on the day though. It just shines. Warm but not hot. Clear blue skies, great visibility. It has that sense of glorious expectation that only a spring day can provide. After winter. After a still crisp morning. On a day like this there is only one route that calls. The Northern Road. Through rolling farmland framed by the low rim of the mountains which today are singing to us in rich blue tones. Daughter is driving and as I roam in spirit across the Cumberland plain and over to the Nepean River my thoughts rest briefly on what it must have been like in the days before Wentworth Blaxland and Lawson found a route across the mountains that had defied crossing for so long. Here on the road the mountains belie the rugged terrain of escarpments and deep valleys. They look mild and calm and simple.

We procrastinate in typical fashion as we pass several stands of freshly picked local strawberries. Unbidden daughter suddenly makes a turn in to a local farm. We pull up simultaneously with Range Rover full of young people. An elderly thick accented lady labours out from the farmhouse to serve us. We watch as the driver of the Range Rover, fit and muscular is assisted with the hose to fill his bag of strawberries with water for a brief wash, a quick splash to the car with the hose greeted by shrieks from the girls inside and laughter from the lady of the stall. Another bag to prevent drips in the car and he returns to his friends. All are smiles and laughter. A great match for the day.

Daughter opts for the $10 bag and we string the bag of strawberries, large and red and luscious the size of small plums, between the arm rests of the front seats. As we drive daughter and grandma indulge a shared love of medical and biological minutiae, diseases and such.

I have an errand in Penrith. A brief stop to deliver documents to our solicitor and we are finally on our way. But we have made a mistake. Goodness knows why, but I have directed daughter back to the south to join the M4 and head up through the mountain villages. Oops. It’s early afternoon, but still the traffic is congested. The roadworks on the great western highway continue and several bottlenecks later I am intensely frustrated by our lack of progress. This is why we usually head via the bells line of road. Note to self for next time.

All is not lost though and along the way the wattle flowering is still in full flight. Intense golden yellow in great swathes along the highway. At lower altitude these varieties are coming to the end of their show, but of course as we climb through the mountains things are a little behind. Some pink wildflowers too on small native shrubs. The mountain villages treat us to densely packed candelabras of the classic Magnolia soulangeana, with its beautifully sculpted purple and while tulip shaped flowers. A little later, I interrupt the conversation to draw mum’s attention to a gorgeous red rhododendron. Spring blossom trees sing their song of love to the bees in pinks and whites here and there.

Before long we are heading through Mt Victoria and we exclaim as we see a mob of kangaroos in a vacant block of land between the houses.

I call for a stop at the Explorer tree. I don’t recall ever having stopped here before. Just a quick leap from the car. Ooh. It’s nippy up here. I duck down to the tree. It’s just a rotten old tree stump with a plaque erected in the 1880s. Not at all a memorable stop. Now I come to think of it. I believe we have stopped here before on the way to the Capertee Valley. I stop mum and daughter from bothering with the gentle slope down to the tree. As I make my way back to the car I think of the frustration of indigenous people to this ludicrous worship of European explorers of their land. Indigenous people had several ways to cross the mountains. I understand one of them followed a river further to the south, down in Dharawal country. I recall some time not too long ago there was some vandalism done to one of the Bourke and Wills sites. A physical protest at the insinuation that the land needed to be “discovered” and the lack of celebration of a long standing indigenous ownership and management of this land.

We take the opportunity for a change of driver, giving daughter the chance to exclaim at the beauty of the scenes looking out across the rolling hills of the central west as we descend from the mountains and make our way in the golden light of late afternoon through to Bathurst. What a joy it is to be heading back into the central west. I feel the strains of past weeks lifting with the joy of driving on these beautiful open rural roads.

A lull in conversation and daughter sparks a new discussion. “So what is the view on prostitution in this car?” to which mum, who is never slow to pick up on any ambiguity in language, replies quick as a wink “well, I’m not in favour of prostitution in this car.”

Between voicing our own views; considering the sometimes challenging views of absent friends, and relating the story of Dell Bourke and the Yellow Hotel once of Lusk WY we are kept entertained for the run into Orange.

The sun is dipping down to the horizon, making beautiful silhouettes of the deciduous trees along the road. We pull over for a photo before heading in to Orange. Orange is such a lovely town. It must surely be one of the nicest towns in Australia. Many small towns are endowed with charm from the integrity of their historic streetscape which has been caught in a bit of a time warp as the existing structures continue to meet the needs of residents. Orange is that rare thing, a town which has continued to consistently prosper and slowly grow without becoming a horrible architectural mish mash. There are modern touches but they blend seamlessly with the old. Beautiful tree lined streets and parks.

It’s almost 6pm and we plan to eat in Orange. Orange is not only beautiful it has a reputation for good food as well. We pass Orange Kebab in the main street. That’s definitely a contender. We had the best kebabs of my life there on a previous trip. As we come to the roundabout with sign directing towards the botanic garden I make an impromptu turn. I think this was the way to a restaurant we ate at in orange before. A slow drive down an uncommonly lovely surburban street arched with the bare branches of delicious trees and lined with old houses, we pass a bar on one corner and I am encouraged to continue on as memory revives. Ah yes, here it is. I have no idea what it was called when last we visited, but it is now called The Harrison Restaurant and Lounge. Daughter and I breath deeply of the faint aroma of wood smoke in the air and venture in to enquire about a table for three. Soon we are shaking off the shivers of a brisk western night in the coziness of the restaurant. It has a lovely ambience. Linen napkins, french doors overlooking a beautiful flowering camellia. All bodes well for the opening meal of our long awaited spring road trip.

We peruse the menu and opt for a serve of tomato and bocconcini bruschetta. Appropriately as each serve comes with two pieces, our attendant offers to just have the kitchen bring us three. On arrival we find the bruscetta is constructed of thick slices of soft french stick, capped with a deliciously dressed fresh tomato salsa and a couple of slices of cherry bocconcini the whole lightly drizzled with a lurid green basil pesto. The colour of the drizzle doesn’t look natural its quite strange. We each take a slice. It is fabulously delicious. The colour is forgiven. A truly outstandingly delicious start to our meal.

None of us are really up for a huge meal, so we share an entrée between us of seafood cake with tempura prawns resting on a dill buerre blanc reduction. This was a bit disappointing. The sauce was a bit heavy and the tempura batter a little floury and not really light enough for tempura. The seafood cake was a little bland.

There’s not a huge range of options for the mains and they are all pretty conservative, comparatively unchallenging choices. Daughter and grandma go for the scotch fillet with diane sauce. I went for the surf and turf, which is also scotch fillet. On the up side each main came with mash and some nicely cooked broccoli. My surf and turf was quite nice, but again the sauce was a bit too heavy. My steak was cooked a bit more than I requested, but I like my meat ruined so it wasn’t a big drama for me. Still nicely tender. I enjoyed my meal.

Daughter and grandma’s dianne sauce was very strange. A little research reveals that there are a couple of interpretations of Dianne sauce. This one is the type that involves Worcestershire sauce and tomatoes, and no brandy. We are accustomed to the variety that involves a bit of brandy and cream and no tomato so this sauce is a bit of a surprise. It’s very strong. Their steak, which was requested med/rare, was undercooked, but it was beautifully tender. The sauce was too strong though and there was a lot of it so the sauce was hard to avoid. Not too big a drama as grandma was full after the shared entre and bruscetta anyway.

An offer of packing up grandma’s largely untouched steak, it is brought promptly back artistically packaged in aluminium foil shaped like a bird with arched neck and fan tail. The warm steak encased in the body giving an illusion of life. We settle the bill and head off into the night after a friendly farewell as the restaurant slowly fills with tables of cheerful diners. The best things about our meal this evening were the ambience, the service and the bruschetta.

By now it’s 7:30 and we have a couple of hours to go before we reach Dubbo. It’s well and truly night time, so we’re not that keen on going overly fast. Not much traffic on the roads. It’s peaceful with the bright dance of red and white reflectors in the light of our headlights. We discuss the colouration of cats and the associated genetic quirks and permutations.

By 9:30 we are busily heeding the numerous security warnings from host and notices in Dubbo Country Apartments and removing pretty much everything from our vehicle overnight. The apartment is fresh and cosy. It’s so good to arrive. 10pm and we’re settling down for the night.

#The great dividing range is a mountain range that runs from the far north of Queensland right down to Victoria. As you can see here, we commonly refer to it as “the divide”. Anywhere on the eastern side of the divide is referred to as coastal. Anywhere on the western side of the divide is called inland. The vast majority of Australias population leaves on the coastal strip along the east coast of the country…most of the rest lives on the coast around the rest of the continent.

Here's the plan! .. for Bourke and Lightning Ridge that is

Well, it's been a trying few months. We sketched out our Bourke early in the year and have only tweaked it slightly since, deciding to stick to accommodation accessible via black top (ie sealed roads) due to all the rain that's been around this year and our target destination is in black soil country.

Black soil is a tricky customer. Not a problem in dry weather, but almost impassable after rain. If it rains when you're on the black soil then you have to pretty much stop where you are and wait for the road to dry. I am told by a local that at this time of year (early spring) the road can take days to dry. Its not such a worry in the summer as the heat dries the road really quickly.

There's a famous Australian Painting called "Across the black soil plains" by George W Lambert. The link provided (in green) takes you to the image and a blurb from the George W Lambert Retrospective exhibited at the National Gallery of Australia but this painting is from the collection of the Art Gallery of NSW, so you could usually see it there if you are visiting Sydney. I digress...

Here's the deal.

Friday 17 September

Mum and daughter 2 will head off in the morning to fulfil their regular commitments. I'll spend the morning packing etc. Mum goes off to teach scripture in the local primary school, daughter to do a meals on wheels# run a couple of suburbs away. Both should be finished by midday. then we jump in the car and off we go, heading smartly with shared driving to Dubbo in central NSW.

Saturday 18 September

We are going to hit the ground running by heading off to Taronga Western Plains Zoo, which everyone says is really awesome. Daughter 2 was really excited when we booked a meerkat encounter, but the zoo is introducing a new female to the group and so the encounter got canned for a while. On the up side we got a free upgrade to a Big Cat Encounter. We've chosen tigers as mum has always had a thing for tigers.

Sunday 19 September

Today we have booked the Morning Walk at the zoo and this starts at 6:40 am. Then we can suit ourselves. Lots around Dubbo and Gilgandra to see.

We make our way up to Lightning Ridge for tonight and plan to eat at the Dig In for some camp oven cooking assuming they are operating.

Monday 20 September and Tuesday 21st

Two full days to enjoy lightning ridge. Monday we've got ourselves down for the Black Queen Theatre in the late afternoon. Lots else around the place to see as well, but we'll play it by ear.

Wednesday 22nd September

Today is the day we finally get to the fishtraps. Plan is to book the guided tour with an aboriginal guide. The tours are run from the museum which has recently opened. We've got ourselves pencilled in there for about 1:30 when the info centre reopens after lunch. Then we make our way over to Bourke for 4 nights.

Thursday 23rd - Saturday 25th September

We will explore around Bourke. Activities will be dictated by the weather and condition of the roads. We want to head to Leadknappers Reserve for the wildflowers, hopefully we've timed it OK for that. Maybe take a mud map tour or two. Then of course we'll head for a trip on the PV Jandra down the Darling River, and take the afternoon tour of Bourke and surrounds. Then there's always Mt Oxley. Somewhere in there, we will head up into south western Qld to see the sights at Eulo in outback Qld. Oh, and how could I forget, have to have a look at the back-o-bourke exhibition centre.. heaps of things to get round and see. I hope the weather stays dry so we can go on the dirt roads around the place, but if not, still plenty to do, or plenty of time to relax! I guess we'll see which it turns out to be.

Sunday 26th

Off from Bourke to overnight in Forbes. I must remember to stop by the bakery and get another of their delicious "dampers" while we're in town. It's not really damper of course. Bakeries, especially viet bakeries, have taken to calling any cob shaped loaf a damper. However call it what they will, the loaf we bought there last time we were in Forbes was seriously good.

Monday 27 September.

It's pretty tragic really and not terribly convenient, but we find we must always end our trips to the west, if we possibly can, on a week day. That way Grenfell Quality Meats is open and we can stock up and take some souvenir meat home for only the most favoured family members. Superb meat... and cheap as well. then it's home, probably fairly late as it's quite a drive from Grenfell.

So that's the plan anyway. Nowhere better for a mental health break than out to the western plains and the outback. I can't wait.

#Do they call this "meals on wheels" in other countries?? Basically its a volunteer service that delivers meals to (usually elderly) people in the community who can't cook for themselves any more. I am very proud of daughter for volunteering. She has a very busy life, what with her medical studies, boyfriend and friends, so it's full marks from me for making the volunteering a priority. :o)

Some Heritage Holiday Photos Sydney pre opera house and a few others too

So what was it like to visit Sydney about 50 or so years ago? I recently have been going through some old slides that were taken by my father. They date from the 1950s and 1960s. I think they're awesome and thought you might enjoy the opportunity to see them.

First the big guns. Here are some shots of the Sydney skyline pre - opera house. You can see Bennelong Point with the tram yard over to the right of the shot.


Next we look across Taronga Zoo towards the city, and second shot is more directly to the south. It looks very different in Sydney today.



In the early sixties the Royal Easter Show was big drawcard, as it remains today. It seems that leaving litter lying around Sideshow alley is not a recent phenomenon.

Before leaving Sydney lets have a look at the band new lookout constructed in Ku-ring-gai National Park's West Head. The view looks across Pittwater to Palm Beach. There's a lot more development and boats in this view today!


Still in Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park, Bandstand hosted by Brian Henderson at the time, did some filming at the Basin when my family was there (they often were.. they spent almost every weekend on my grandparents cabin cruiser wandering around Pittwater).. Here we have Judy Stone and Col Joye, the pop idols of their day looking groovy...


In 1965 there were some pretty impressive storms. Dad caught some great seascapes following the storms. This first shows the rock pool at Collaroy dwarfed by the waves.

But this shot of storm surf is my favourite. I'm sure Dad must have been very happy with how it turned out. It's my favourite.


Heading out of Sydney now...

Touring the south coast accommodation options were few and far between. Caught in a storm in February 1958 my parents were driven to seek shelter in a ramshackle building that seemed to be only just standing. In later years the exact location was hard to pin down but the following shots were taken in the general area. A beautiful day next day for some photo opportunities.



The Tilba Tilba Post office was a lonely affair..


And of course Narooma was a popular stop on the south coast then as it is now.


A tour of the nation's capital was a different experience in 1958. At least this seems to be Canberra, I believe that is the spire given to Australia by the USA.. and is that old Parliament House there... but if so where is the lake? Not built yet.. note the river that is wending its way across the photograph. It was interesting to find this photo as I have recently read the memiors of Sylvia Curley who lived on Duntroon when it was still a sheep station.

Heading on from Canberra, my wandering parents appear to have come across this little town that seems well along the way to falling down!


I have another image of this town with a lake in the distance. Perhaps Lake Eucambene.. but I don't know for sure.


The following shots my mother thinks would have been taken at Surfers Paradise or Gold Coast back in the day when they were just getting started in turning it into the tourist spot it is today. These are some of the local accommodation options as they once appeared. These photos will definitely be making their way into my home decor!





Going overseas now to Hobart, in about 1962 my grandmother recorded this hip little square in Hobart. I wonder if it is still there somewhere..


We someimtes don't realise the little treasures that await us when we decide to take a trip through our parents travels decades ago. I am sure glad I didn't just stick to looking at the photographs of family!

What a brilliant time of year to visit Canberra!

Saturday 8 May

Oh how I long for the open road...and I have been waiting 2 years for the Art Gallery of South Australia's travelling exhibition: Hans Heysen. A Grand Vision: Strong Forms and Bold Light. It is finally hitting the National Gallery in Canberra. I am up at 5am whipping up a picnic lunch and pretending, not very convincingly, to be the wii's best friend. We're relaxed about our planned early departure and it's about 7:30 before we're off to pick up mum. So far so good, but I am doing a bit of embroidery and fail to notice that for some reason hubby has himself all lined up as though he's heading in to Sydney... ah, where are you going???? Luckily I looked up before he had us on the freeway!

A brief detour around the suburbs to head in the right direction then hubby announces that as we're passing (you reckon?) he needs to stop by the house again..

Another attempt at a getaway. Clearly living in a false sense of security that there's now no misunderstanding where we need to go, I'm still not paying attention properly and hubby has us wizzing down the road towards the beaches at Wollongong... where on earth are you going this time??????? (Have I ever mentioned that hubby's sense of direction isn't his strongest point? LOL) Another minor detour and we find ourselves at last cruising down the Hume Hwy admiring expansive views of golden fields, luxuriant gums and distant blue hills. The embroidery is packed away.. this is too good to miss.

There's not much going on in the flower department along the median strip today, but the landscapes round about are looking lovely with swathes of russet and gold as the pastures run to seed. There's water in the dams and creeks as we pass and I'm still not over rejoicing in what rain has been had in the area. More, much more, is needed.

As we make the turn from the Hume onto the Federal Hwy the poplars that line the junction are all but finished with their golden columnar dispay. There is something about this stretch of vibrant autumn trees that is deeply associated with Canberra for us. We really feel like we're heading to the ACT when we reach these beautiful trees and the oaks that follow not long after.

All runs smoothly, including the conversation, when we find a sign announcing that there has been an accident ahead. Progressively the speed limit slows until we are directed to a detour through Bywong. The cars on the road as we turn off the highway are looking pretty mangled, but it's an ill wind that blows no-one any good and we have been handed the perfect excuse to get off the beaten track a little. Rich golden pastures embellished with the shrubby local trees, this alternative drive is a delightful diversion which brings us back to the hwy further along the Federal Highway.

As we round Lake George we look with interest for the water that is reputed to be in the lake at present. There's a truck being loaded with heavily woolled sheep.. not much water to be seen there. Then as we climb the hill where Weerewaa Lookout is perched, there it is. A slim streak of reflective blue off in the distance. What a happy day it will be when we can drive and see water to the edge of the road again!

Only about half an hour and we're pulling up in the almost empty car park of the National Gallery of Australia. We navigate the bizarre and convoluted temporary entrance arrangements. Mum having dragged herself up stairs and escalators and along walkways we approach the entrance desk and note with some bemusement that the commencement date for the Heysen extravaganza has been pushed back to 14 May. Oops. I even checked the website and didn't notice that. Oh well, looks like we'll have to come back in a couple of weeks. No wonder the car park and the gallery is so quiet!

Never mind. It's not like there is a shortage of things to do in and around Canberra. We decide we'll just head on over to the War Memorial, but first, we'll have a quick squizz at the lookout at Mount Ainslee. We've never got around to doing this in all our Canberra visits. It's a steady climb and quite a pleasant arrangement of parking nearby a pleasant area of natural rock walls and stairs. Following your eyes you are lead irresistibly down to admire the aspect across the War Memorial down Anzac Parade to the lake, beyond which Old Parliament House sits squat and dignified at the feet of the uber modern New Parliament house with it's monumental flag pole astride grass embankments which simply scream for children to roll down them all giggles and green stains.


We take our fill of the views across Canberra city centre, admire the butterflies on the flowering native shrubs in the gardens. Breath deep of the scent of the Australian bushland. Ah. It's a beautiful day. Clear blue skies and crisp autumnal air, and I just don't feel like being indoors after all.


It's nearly lunch time and we decide to tick off another Canberra site we've not made it to before. Black Mountain. The route to get there takes us down Anzac Parade. Mum has not had an opportunity to admire the many memorials that line this ceremonial parade as it's just too far and hard for her to walk. First on the left with the rich red of the Turkish flag flying alongside the Australian flag is the Attaturk memorial. Then we pass memorials to the Navy, Nurses, Air Force, Rats of Tobruk and at the end of parade an beautiful arch of bronze. A matching arch is situated on the opposite side of the parade. These together constitute the New Zealand Memorial. A gift from the New Zealand Government to the people of Australia in 2001, the Memorial is a symbol of the ANZAC experience, an evocative link between Australia and New Zealand. It also serves as a reminder of the long history of cooperation between the two nations.

The design of the Memorial consists of a bronze representation of the handles of a flax basket (kete harakeke). The words from a Maori proverb, ‘Each of us at a handle of the basket’ (Mau tena kiwai o te kete, maku tenei), expresses the unique co-operative relationship between the two countries, especially in wartime.
It's a beautiful memorial. The Kiwis have good taste.

Mum's keen for a slow drive up the other side of the parade, so we turn at the roundabout and head back up towards the war memorial. Past the Desert Mounted Troups Memorial the original of which was erected in Port Said after the Great War in memory of Australian and NZ troops, but destroyed during fighting in the area in the 1960s. This is followed by memorials to Vietnam War, Korean War, and the Army. It's quite the grand parade, shaded by mature eucalypt trees.

Back on our way to Black Mountain we round Lake Burley Griffin. We note the bike hire. Too vigorous for mum, but oh how glorious it would be to ride around the lake on a day like this with the manchurian pear trees a vibrant band of colour along the opposite shore, shining in resplendent Manly Sea Eagles colours across the face of the National Library! ...well.. it is footy season! We make the turn up to to Black Mountain nearby the Australian National Botanic Garden. Not much view from the road on the way up or the carparks at the top of the mountain. It's $7.50 and up a long ramp or flight of stairs for the privilege of admiring the views from the tower. Having contemplated the possibility of lunching at the restaurant here, it turns out it is closed on Saturday for lunch. Oh. A quick sip at the timed water fountain outside, listening to the chatter of birdsong from the shrubbery around the carpark then it's back in the car once more. I can't say I'm sorry as I just feel like driving through the countryside rather than sitting in a restaurant.

We're heading off towards Lanyon down to the south of Canberra. However it being lunchtime, we decide to sus out the upper Murrumbidgee at Kambah Pools. An easy drive through some open plains leads down to low hills encrusted patchily with scrubby vegetation. We enter the reserve and note a sequence of rough car parks. We opt for the beach car park, but find this rather uninviting with a steep slope down to the river, the tiny glimpses of which look pretty murky. We really need rain. It is way too steep for Mum to even think about it in the time we want to allow for our picnic. We move on to the rock pools and find a much busier car park, and decide again it looks a bit more of a strain than we're interested in and all together too populated. All is not lost however as we find a nice shady parking spot further up the hill where there is no-one. I amuse myself picking up some stray rubbish people have left behind before tucking into our little... I shall call them ratatouille quiches. Mum breaks out some lindt chocs she has been given for mothers day and requests assistance in their consumption... truly not a problem.. we'd love to help. :o)

All done, I manage a few stitches on my embroidery as the others slowly finish off their meals and we're on our way south again towards Lanyon Historic House.


Lanyon sits as it has always done, in a working sheep and cattle station. The pastures are wonderfully deep and golden. Lovely fat sheep browse in the shade of ample trees with plenty of leaves. Further along black angus enjoy the freedom of their large paddock. The iconic Brindabella ranges as a back drop. It's superb. Oh how I love these inland vistas.

Crossing over the cattle grids we pull up in the Lanyon car park and wander slowly into the house. A deep shady verandah. A wood frame fly screen door. Through the ornate entrance hall to the little gift shop where we pay our $7 pp ($5 for concessions) and accept the offer of a vounteer guide to escort us around the house. This is not compulsory of course, you can wander about on your own with the leaflet if you prefer. I am almost always happy to accept the commentary from the volunteers. They pretty much always know heaps more than what you can get off a brochure and today proves no exception.

Lanyon we learn was established in the earliest days of European settlement in the Monaro at the very limits of legal occupation of the limestone plains. Cross the Murrumbidgee the land had not been surveyed and you would be squatting.. which of course plenty of people went ahead and did, so it is interesting to know that the partners who bought Lanyon were keen to keep on the right side of legal tenure. We spend the better part of the next three hours slowly touring the house and chatting with our guide, ranging across topics including a Great War veteran by the name of Legge, a man that Charles Bean, official Australian war historian of the Great War, disliked to the extent that he wrote him out of the history... Mr Legge is a man who clearly bears some looking into.

We learn also that Lanyon was only saved by protest action on the part of ACT residents in the 1970s. As Jack Mundey was leading green bans to save the historic precinct of the Rocks in Sydney, awareness of the value of such historic places was growing elsewhere including the nation's capital. Many a demonstration later, legislation was passed to protect Lanyon as a working property in perpetuity. The sprawl of suburbia can encroach no further than it currently sits, leaving Lanyon, it's homestead and it's beasts nestled happily along the Bidgee in the shade of the Brindabellas.


We enjoy hearing stories of the families who lived here and stories of descendants and workers from the old days who have visited and filled in little details about the family and life in the house and on the property. One elderly man stood transfixed for ages in front of the painting of a kangaroo hunt. Turned out this very painting had belonged to his grandfather and was supposed to be given to him but it went missing. Someone in the family had sold it evidently as is shown by the provenance of the piece. The old gent once had a paper that said who everyone in the picture was, but that unfortunately had been lost sometime over the years. I guess you wouldn't see the point of keeping it when the picture was long gone.

We have loved the exhibition of old photos of the family, especially those of the kids. Informal of shots of kids being kids. The era makes little difference. In one of the more formal photos the older offspring are posed formally and trying to look mature and civilised, as you get to the younger kids the feet are bare, the legs are brown.. wild Australian children. Another shot of Australian children and young adults pants rolled up clambering about the rocks in the river. A nod to convention with their straw boaters and fine dresses and waistcoats. On the other wall is a photo of one of the sons who went to the Great War, wounded numerous times at Gallipoli and in France he wasn't a farmer when he came back. Here's his plane, here's his car. Only a decade until he'd squandered his inheritance living. Living for all he was worth.

Eventually it's time to head off. Some slight alarm from mum when she can't find her camera, then we're braving the risks of the exit route from the property.


We decide to head the few kms to Tharwa, so we can cross the upper Murrumbidgee. The charm of the river crossing is obliterated by some large scale infrastructure work being done on and around the single lane bridge. The bidgee is a low trickle, so much smaller than it is far to the west at Hay. The sun is low and the light is bad as we turn around and head back towards Canberra. The sides of the bridge high enough to ruin any chance for a good look at the river. Best we can do is hold the camera high and hope for the best!


Safely on our way, we're heading back to the north, to home, to sunset skies which in a particular stretch of our journey always seem to display that glorious pastel combination of blue eastern horizons topped with beautiful misty pink and lavender with clouds in sky blue like a nursery wall. To the west the deep orange, black gum silhouettes and a rich blue sky. Tonight the sky displays Orion prostrate across the western plains, his dog sirius too high in the sky for comfortable viewing.

It's been a glorious day in capital country. :o) We still have so so much to explore. We're glad it won't be long before we're obliged to return. Next time, the exhibition and maybe Calthorpes House Luckily the lady who inherited Calthorpes house was an historian who realised the value of this unique property to the nation and persuaded the Government to buy it with all the original owners things intact. The original owner in the 1920s went to Sydney and bought everything for the house in one fell swoop and then never allowed anything to be changed... or perhaps we can include a drive out to Tidbinbilla...or finally make it to the zoo.. We really must just stay for a whole weekend... never a shortage of things to do in Canberra.. just check your dates before you head off!