With six hours and one day difference in time, it is difficult to phone home. I manage to get Cathy and Lynda, but Douglas is not home and Patrick is who-knows-where in South Africa. With Internet at only $10 a day, we do take advantage. It is nice to hear familiar voices. We will visit Leslie Johansson tomorrow, so that will be nice, also.
We drive south towards Grafton, but detour to the beach at Evans Head. There appears to be nobody around until we reach the shore. The campgrounds are bursting! The beach is reasonably busy, especially where the lifeguards have placed the flags. They like families to stay between the flags in the case of an emergency, they are close at hand. The surf is quite rough, but the water is as glorious as yesterday. I await Peter on the beach while he goes into town to get a drink. I only swim for 20 minutes or so, but it is lots. The undertow is quite evident here. Luckily, no Blue Bottles, but I am still itching from yesterday. I bought some vinegar this morning when we bought groceries, and it does take out much of the sting. I just smell like a Quebec French-fry!
We stop in the Scottish town of Maclean for a picnic lunch. The Clarence River flows by. It is quite wide and, with all the rains they have had and are having in this area, it is quite swollen. I must ask Lesley if the rivers are always brown sludge colour or if it is just during run-off.
We have discovered a motel chain called “Golden Chain”, and have joined their club. They appear, from the two we have stayed at, to be older motels that have been refurbished to a good standard and which are individually owned. We plan to stay whenever possible as the price and the conveniences provided are good.
The Jacaranda Motor Lodge has been here since the 50s. The pool is the kind you used to be allowed to dive into! It is outside of town with farmer’s fields all around. The chain is celebrating 25 Golden Years this 2011.
Tuesday, Jan. 4.
As my welts are more prominent and itchy as hell, we stop at a pharmacy in Grafton. Even the pharmacist gasps when I show her my shoulder and chest. She sells us two kinds of antihistamine (one “knock-out” and one “non-drowsy”) and a topical cream. We hope they will work!
We have a noontime stop at Coff’s Harbour and a walk around the downtown and along the pier. There are people fishing in flowing mud. We stop again at Nambucca Heads as I am out of water and desperately need a drink - I think the medication is dehydrating me. It turns out to be the neatest place. The breakwater is a combination of man-made concrete blocks and huge boulders. Over the years people have been painting on the rocks. Some are quite simple and others very elaborate. One family have been returning to write on “their” rock for more then twenty years. It is graffiti well done.
South West Rocks is about 12 km. from the main highway and we don’t meet many cars on the way in. Unfortunately, they are all already there! The place is jumping. Lesley’s family home is on a main street but only steps away from where the river empties into the sea and two glorious beaches. The one to the south stretches at least five km. What a fabulous place to spend the winter! She and her family have not been in the ocean in the past while as they know about Blue Bottles and heed the warnings, but they cool off in the river water as it makes a lovely pool.
Yesterday, three relatives left Lesley’s place, and today she gains only us. But, besides Lesley and her “dementia-suffering” step-father, there is her sister and brother-in-law, and their daughter with her three children. It is a full house, but a welcoming one. As our last home-cooked meal was the lovely pre-Christmas roast chicken Antigone & Patrick cooked, the smell of ribs roasting is mouth-watering. The whole meal is scrumptious. Afterwards, I take two “powerful” pills and retire quite early for me
Marilyn is happy.Peter with the Johnston tartan.
Typical public toilet, Maclean.
The Blue Bottle won!
Wednesday, Jan. 5.
This day hardly existed for me. The pills last night kept me awake with the weirdest jerks until about 2 a.m., then I went into a dead sleep. I can hardly arise at 10 a.m. when Peter comes to make sure I am okay. But I am not really. We take a short walk around town and then a drive to the Gaol - old jail - which has been restored. We don’t do the tour as my eyes are sensitive to the light and I just want to sleep. I have a short nap before dinner and awaken feeling quite good. When I show the pills to Jan, Lesley’s sister, she says they are way too strong and gives me some milder antihistamines to take. I feel like I have hardly been here, but am happy we got to visit Lesley, to see her lovely home town and to meet her family. Oh yes, Lesley assures me that the rivers are usually blue, not mud brown.
Melissa and her children live in St. George, one of the cities you may have seen on TV because it is under water. Her personal home is still dry, but she is not sure just when she will be able to get back to it. What a way to spend your summer holidays. We wish her luck.
Lovely beach, lousy weather.
This day hardly existed for me. The pills last night kept me awake with the weirdest jerks until about 2 a.m., then I went into a dead sleep. I can hardly arise at 10 a.m. when Peter comes to make sure I am okay. But I am not really. We take a short walk around town and then a drive to the Gaol - old jail - which has been restored. We don’t do the tour as my eyes are sensitive to the light and I just want to sleep. I have a short nap before dinner and awaken feeling quite good. When I show the pills to Jan, Lesley’s sister, she says they are way too strong and gives me some milder antihistamines to take. I feel like I have hardly been here, but am happy we got to visit Lesley, to see her lovely home town and to meet her family. Oh yes, Lesley assures me that the rivers are usually blue, not mud brown.
Melissa and her children live in St. George, one of the cities you may have seen on TV because it is under water. Her personal home is still dry, but she is not sure just when she will be able to get back to it. What a way to spend your summer holidays. We wish her luck.
Lovely beach, lousy weather.
Graffitti rocks
Thursday, Jan. 6.
I get a nice picture of Lesley’s family (and respect her dislike of having her picture taken) and we are on our way south. Our plan is to get away from the coast for a bit, so we choose Taree to spend the night. We do drive in to Port Macquarie for a break and to eat our “famous” Fredo meat pies from Frederickton. They are good, but most home made ones along the way have been just as good. It is amazing what a little prize and a lot of advertising can do for a company.
It is only 2 p.m. when we get into Taree, so we settle and then take the short drive up to Wingham to see this “historic” town and walk through the Brush Nature Reserve. If you stay until about 7 p.m., you can see the thousands of residents leave the trees and fly to the hills to feed for the night. Yes, the load noise overhead as you walk on the slimy wooden walkway is made by the bats that are just waking up from a long days sleep. On the way back from the riverside, I realize the slime is not from mould, but from poop droppings. I put on the hood of my jacket and walk gingerly so as not to fall. There are three variety of bats in the brush, but we can only distinguish the red and the grey. It is the first time I have ever seen bats in the wild.
Oh yes, talking about animals. We have seen two kangaroo and two koala as road kill. This also seems strange as they are supposed to be in zoos. There are warnings posted on the roads where there are large populations of each.
Finally, after three months of travel, we have found a good pizza. It is at el Colosseo in Taree! Peter eats the whole pizza.
Lesley's family.
I get a nice picture of Lesley’s family (and respect her dislike of having her picture taken) and we are on our way south. Our plan is to get away from the coast for a bit, so we choose Taree to spend the night. We do drive in to Port Macquarie for a break and to eat our “famous” Fredo meat pies from Frederickton. They are good, but most home made ones along the way have been just as good. It is amazing what a little prize and a lot of advertising can do for a company.
It is only 2 p.m. when we get into Taree, so we settle and then take the short drive up to Wingham to see this “historic” town and walk through the Brush Nature Reserve. If you stay until about 7 p.m., you can see the thousands of residents leave the trees and fly to the hills to feed for the night. Yes, the load noise overhead as you walk on the slimy wooden walkway is made by the bats that are just waking up from a long days sleep. On the way back from the riverside, I realize the slime is not from mould, but from poop droppings. I put on the hood of my jacket and walk gingerly so as not to fall. There are three variety of bats in the brush, but we can only distinguish the red and the grey. It is the first time I have ever seen bats in the wild.
Oh yes, talking about animals. We have seen two kangaroo and two koala as road kill. This also seems strange as they are supposed to be in zoos. There are warnings posted on the roads where there are large populations of each.
Finally, after three months of travel, we have found a good pizza. It is at el Colosseo in Taree! Peter eats the whole pizza.
Lesley's family.
Bats overhead!
Friday, Jan. 7.
Although we have been doing only little trips each day, Peter has done all the driving. Today he needs a break and I start us off. We are travelling the back roads, and back roads they certainly are. In some areas it seems the population voted for the wrong party as they road is more patch than asphalt. We take what is called the “Bucketts Way”, through Gloucester and then over to Dungog. We have everything from scotch mist to torrential rains. We stop at Maitland for the night. The area is much like the South Island of New Zealand - all up and down around beautiful farmland and lots of trees. Just not the sheep you see in N.Z. We are at the edge of the Hunter Valley which is amass with vineyards.
Not much to do here, so we walk the town centre - more rain - and talk to a real estate agent who will be coming to Canada with his wife and friends to spend a couple of months motorcycling in the Rockies. Our first choice restaurant for dinner is a zoo - so we return and have a little at the motel restaurant. I think the bats yesterday were enough excitement for a while. Tomorrow, we travel into the Hunter Valley - like saying you are going to the Okanagan or Napa. There are 108 vineyards in the listing and we hope to visit the ones that make Malbec wines, only seven. I’m hoping the rain stays away.
Saturday, Jan. 8.
Sun, glorious sun! We awaken to a lovely day and head to the wine country. In all, the first and the last vineyard we visit have the nicest wines - from my point of view. The area is extremely well mapped, and we make a circuit choosing those that grow Malbec. Unfortunately, most use the grapes in a blend, as a sparkling red, or as a base for their port wines. We buy a bottle of a 2006 Shiraz from the Wandin Valley Estate. I wasn’t that fond of their Malbec blend.
The entire valley is green rolling hills. I am the navigator and take Peter to a lookout where you can see nothing through the trees. Further down the hill there is a lovely lookout where we stop. I record the sounds of the cicadas with the video setting on the camera. The sound moves in waves like the wind.
We continue the self-guided tour to four more cellars. We stop at one of the few “eateries” (not posh restaurants) in the area. We meet the guy from the first winery who is picking up lunch. We both order hamburgers because they sound good and are a good price. Wow - what a great choose! A huge hunk of gently cooked - not blackened - beef in an enormous whole wheat spiced bun with lettuce, tomato, beet, feta cheese and olives on mine. This is our meal for today.
We visit the final vineyard against Peter’s best judgement as it is advertised “organic!” Tamburlaine is the only one that makes a pure Malbec, and we buy a bottle. We will save it for a celebratory evening. Yes, it was a little out of our price range but probably normal for some.
We will be moving on to Sydney tomorrow. We are thinking of skipping Melbourne in favour of Canberra and points in the interior. We will contemplate this as we navigate our way around Sydney.
Typical small town buildings.
Although we have been doing only little trips each day, Peter has done all the driving. Today he needs a break and I start us off. We are travelling the back roads, and back roads they certainly are. In some areas it seems the population voted for the wrong party as they road is more patch than asphalt. We take what is called the “Bucketts Way”, through Gloucester and then over to Dungog. We have everything from scotch mist to torrential rains. We stop at Maitland for the night. The area is much like the South Island of New Zealand - all up and down around beautiful farmland and lots of trees. Just not the sheep you see in N.Z. We are at the edge of the Hunter Valley which is amass with vineyards.
Not much to do here, so we walk the town centre - more rain - and talk to a real estate agent who will be coming to Canada with his wife and friends to spend a couple of months motorcycling in the Rockies. Our first choice restaurant for dinner is a zoo - so we return and have a little at the motel restaurant. I think the bats yesterday were enough excitement for a while. Tomorrow, we travel into the Hunter Valley - like saying you are going to the Okanagan or Napa. There are 108 vineyards in the listing and we hope to visit the ones that make Malbec wines, only seven. I’m hoping the rain stays away.
Saturday, Jan. 8.
Sun, glorious sun! We awaken to a lovely day and head to the wine country. In all, the first and the last vineyard we visit have the nicest wines - from my point of view. The area is extremely well mapped, and we make a circuit choosing those that grow Malbec. Unfortunately, most use the grapes in a blend, as a sparkling red, or as a base for their port wines. We buy a bottle of a 2006 Shiraz from the Wandin Valley Estate. I wasn’t that fond of their Malbec blend.
The entire valley is green rolling hills. I am the navigator and take Peter to a lookout where you can see nothing through the trees. Further down the hill there is a lovely lookout where we stop. I record the sounds of the cicadas with the video setting on the camera. The sound moves in waves like the wind.
We continue the self-guided tour to four more cellars. We stop at one of the few “eateries” (not posh restaurants) in the area. We meet the guy from the first winery who is picking up lunch. We both order hamburgers because they sound good and are a good price. Wow - what a great choose! A huge hunk of gently cooked - not blackened - beef in an enormous whole wheat spiced bun with lettuce, tomato, beet, feta cheese and olives on mine. This is our meal for today.
We visit the final vineyard against Peter’s best judgement as it is advertised “organic!” Tamburlaine is the only one that makes a pure Malbec, and we buy a bottle. We will save it for a celebratory evening. Yes, it was a little out of our price range but probably normal for some.
We will be moving on to Sydney tomorrow. We are thinking of skipping Melbourne in favour of Canberra and points in the interior. We will contemplate this as we navigate our way around Sydney.
Typical small town buildings.
Peter checking the grapes.
Hunter Valley wine country.
The hamburger from heaven.
The Big Wheel. A great ride.
