First posted on January 5, 2013
A low-key day, this one, and all the driving was easy. I found a servo to re-fill the car then went back into town for the sole reason of departing Corowa via the old plank bridge!
First stop was at the outskirts of Grenfell where the remnants of a mine still exist, the main ones being two mine shafts. It’s old gold mining territory. You would have to be insane to go down there. No wonder the miners’ wives didn’t like what their husbands did.
In the town itself, breakfast – always the must do first thing at the first new town each day. From the advertising in the tourist brochures and the look of the place, “The Loaded Dog” would not be out of place in Brunswick, Clifton Hill and the like. I looked in the window and there were quite a few people there so I headed over to the bakery. It looked too old-fashioned and the craft things in the window made me wonder how serious a bakery it was, so I went back to the Loaded Dog. On going inside I was hit by a blast of noise… all the customers were talking – loudly! So back to the bakery where they produced yet another lovely fresh salad sandwich. To start with I was alone but then some older (older than me!) locals arrived. I could hear their conversation too but it was no cacophony and the content was fascinating, not that I caught it all.
First stop was at the outskirts of Grenfell where the remnants of a mine still exist, the main ones being two mine shafts. It’s old gold mining territory. You would have to be insane to go down there. No wonder the miners’ wives didn’t like what their husbands did.
In the town itself, breakfast – always the must do first thing at the first new town each day. From the advertising in the tourist brochures and the look of the place, “The Loaded Dog” would not be out of place in Brunswick, Clifton Hill and the like. I looked in the window and there were quite a few people there so I headed over to the bakery. It looked too old-fashioned and the craft things in the window made me wonder how serious a bakery it was, so I went back to the Loaded Dog. On going inside I was hit by a blast of noise… all the customers were talking – loudly! So back to the bakery where they produced yet another lovely fresh salad sandwich. To start with I was alone but then some older (older than me!) locals arrived. I could hear their conversation too but it was no cacophony and the content was fascinating, not that I caught it all.
– It would be 109 (deg) and you wouldn’t think twice about going shearing
– These (?town) people don’t know to wet your hat before putting it on your head too cool you down
– It was a dry heat, you could still do anything
– I wouldn’t want to be shearing now, with the way the heat has changed
That last comment interested me most of all. With so much about climate change, the scientists and the sceptics, I wonder if anyone has talked to the people on the land?
– These (?town) people don’t know to wet your hat before putting it on your head too cool you down
– It was a dry heat, you could still do anything
– I wouldn’t want to be shearing now, with the way the heat has changed
That last comment interested me most of all. With so much about climate change, the scientists and the sceptics, I wonder if anyone has talked to the people on the land?
Still on the lookout for a bag for book-group, I called into the Grenfell craft shop, in a bendy main street as in Canowindra, but on a bigger scale.
The woman there didn’t have what I wanted, we talked about this’n’that, I told her about the craft shop in Temora where I went on a similar quest but came away with my coloured necklace and earrings. She knew the place exactly. She said she’d done a workshop there and came home with jewellery too!
The woman there didn’t have what I wanted, we talked about this’n’that, I told her about the craft shop in Temora where I went on a similar quest but came away with my coloured necklace and earrings. She knew the place exactly. She said she’d done a workshop there and came home with jewellery too!
Leaving Grenfell, on the outskirts of that side of town there was an arrow to Henry Lawson’s birthplace. Well, why not. I turned left and almost entered a farm that definitely wasn’t right. No, the “birthplace” is an obelisk marking the vaguely “round about here” location. It looked more like a death-type monument and not a comfortable shape to remind you of birth!!
Next stop Young. For once, the convenience of the info centre being on the side of town I entered by. This one was in the old railway station buildings. It housed paintings by local artists – priced considerably higher than those in Forbes. Not as good either so no temptation to buy on either count.
What I was interested in buying was fudge! I love it and already had picked up a leaflet about the local specialty shop where fudge is made on the premises. I asked the girl (about 20, max!) where it was: just up the street. She asked where I was from, as they do for their records. When I said from Melbourne she was really impressed! Personally, I think it’s a great place to live, but I’m not so sure about it being a fabulous tourist destination.
Next stop Young. For once, the convenience of the info centre being on the side of town I entered by. This one was in the old railway station buildings. It housed paintings by local artists – priced considerably higher than those in Forbes. Not as good either so no temptation to buy on either count.
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| Young, NSW - tourist info centre in the old railway station |
In the town proper, once again streets with beautiful street plantings at corners and roundabouts.
It wasn’t all that long since my breakfast sandwich so wasn’t all that hungry. But when I saw a really big bakery with signs it had been voted the best in NSW or some such, I had to go in. Their offerings were pretty extensive but I settled on fruit salad, the first I’d seen anywhere. It was so refreshing in the heat of the day. Not as many preserved building facades here but one is of note: the Town Hall Building with tower and memorial. It reminded me very much of the ferry building in San Francisco, a miniature version thereof. (And will probably be very different when I get to look at my SF photos again!!)
Finally, on to my real destination, Canberra. On one map I’d seen a glass place noted in Harden. An older woman at the Young TIC said No, at the next town. I drove through both without anything jumping out at me but didn’t stop the car, figuring I was meant to save money! I did however stop at the entrance to Harden. From some distance off as you approached, you could see an impressive looking church on the skyline.
Recently, friend John from Brisbane commented in an email: I have three ‘rules’ about visiting somewhere new – use public transport, go to the local church, and do some walking. Well, there are taxis in a few of the places I’ve been! And I’ve done a bit of walking where I absolutely had to get out of the car into the heat. But the churches, and there have been quite a few – closed, locked, well and truly – apart from Sunday services …. and in many, most, towns these only happen on a rotating basis. I did go to Mass in Culcairn. So it was a real surprise to see an open door at this church at Harden – had to go in. Without being spectacular, it was a lovely old country church that had been re-ordered but not vandalistically for post-Vatican II liturgy. No one else was there: a precious few moments of quiet contemplation.
Very last stop – Yass. A coffee while I studied the map and committed to memory directions to Alison’s place. Happy memories of spending time with Joseph and his family in Yass itself and out at the family farm, where I’ve stayed on a few occasions, a while ago now. On the approach to Yass, in the distance I saw a Melbourne-Sydney train snaking through the countryside, just about where it passes the farm. Happy memories too of travelling to the farm by train. Love trains!
It wasn’t all that long since my breakfast sandwich so wasn’t all that hungry. But when I saw a really big bakery with signs it had been voted the best in NSW or some such, I had to go in. Their offerings were pretty extensive but I settled on fruit salad, the first I’d seen anywhere. It was so refreshing in the heat of the day. Not as many preserved building facades here but one is of note: the Town Hall Building with tower and memorial. It reminded me very much of the ferry building in San Francisco, a miniature version thereof. (And will probably be very different when I get to look at my SF photos again!!)
Finally, on to my real destination, Canberra. On one map I’d seen a glass place noted in Harden. An older woman at the Young TIC said No, at the next town. I drove through both without anything jumping out at me but didn’t stop the car, figuring I was meant to save money! I did however stop at the entrance to Harden. From some distance off as you approached, you could see an impressive looking church on the skyline.
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| Catholic Church, Harden, NSW |
Very last stop – Yass. A coffee while I studied the map and committed to memory directions to Alison’s place. Happy memories of spending time with Joseph and his family in Yass itself and out at the family farm, where I’ve stayed on a few occasions, a while ago now. On the approach to Yass, in the distance I saw a Melbourne-Sydney train snaking through the countryside, just about where it passes the farm. Happy memories too of travelling to the farm by train. Love trains!
I got to Alison’s in Canberra about 20 minutes after my guessed arrival time of 5pm. So good to be with friends again, eat a delicious home-cooked meal again, relax in a lounge-room before going to bed for a long sound sleep!
And the novelty and pleasure of writing this at the National Library in Canberra! Not to mention the bliss of a fast upload speed for adding photos to the blog. Heaven!!!!