It was time for a new adventure, this time heading west into regional New South Wales and Queensland. We based our trip around a few days at a “luxury” hotel on the Gold Coast offered at a “too good to refuse” rate. Ian and I have travelled the coastal route to south-east Queensland many times and so this time my itinerary initially took us north-west into territory that I have not explored since my late teens and through some areas that neither of us had ever visited.
After a stop in Mudgee to catch up with an old friend and to caffeinate, we drove on to Gulgong, famous as the “town on the ten dollar note”. Much of the 1800s architecture is preserved in and around the main street of Gulgong giving it a picturesque pioneer town ambience. Like many of the towns we visited that feature classic Australian architecture, the effect is hard to capture in photos because the pubs are plastered in XXXX or Bottlemart signs, the shops beneath the cute frontages are Best & Less or real estate agents and the colonial style homes are surrounded by wheelie bins and festooned with air-conditioning units. Many of the noteworthy buildings are in the main thoroughfares, but these streets are lined with utes and four-wheel drives. It is really lovely however, to see these buildings put to good use, thus ensuring their preservation.
We paused in Dunedoo to check out our first example of Silo Art, depicting Winx, a retired champion Australian thoroughbred racehorse and her famous rider Hugh Bowman, who was born in Dunedoo. Side two depicts local flora and fauna and the third side, visible from the park is of one of the artists’ sons reading a book in a wheat field.
The Silo Art Trail has really taken off as a concept to attract visitors to rural and regional areas. Begun in 2015, the number of painted silos has continued to grow and they extend right across Australia from Western Australia through South Australia, Victoria and New South Wales to Queensland on a trail over 8,500 kilometres long. We were to see other examples on this trip and they are impressive in artistry and scale and well worth checking out.
Our first overnight stay was in the north-west NSW town of Gilgandra and after checking in to our motel mid-afternoon, I looked up the things to see and do. The first thing on the list was a “picturesque” riverside walk named the Windmill Walk due to the placement along the route of several relocated local windmills. It sounded very nice and although it had only one review, that review described a pleasant amble beside the Castlereagh River. Look, we needed the exercise after a lot of sitting in the car so it wasn’t all bad. The “riverside walk” runs beside a relatively busy main road and doesn’t actually get very close to the river.
To see the water you really need to get off the path. And what a path! Wide enough to drive a tractor on, clean and even, however the title Windmill Walk does seem to have passed its use-by date as most of the windmills appear to have been removed leaving four divots where the feet must have been embedded and a plaque describing in detail the history and workings of the windmill that isn’t there. At the end of the walk you can leave the path and view the river at a reasonable distance. It was very low when we were there, creek sized streams cutting along the much wider river bed. It was also very hot, around 36° or 37° and so that may have made the experience slightly less compelling than it might have been.
I knew that some of my ancestors came from the town of Gilgandra and Ian was able to find a newspaper article on-line, dating from the mid1900s about the death of my grandmother’s father. We visited St Ambrose church where his funeral took place and then found his grave in the local cemetery, along with his second wife, his eldest son and that son’s wife and one of his children. My father had the warmest childhood memories of his time at his Grandfather’s farm near Gilgandra, recollecting his early visits there many times through his life, including in the days leading up to his passing. I too visited the farm as a young child and loved the sprawling homestead, the roaming chooks and playing in the hay shed.
Back in town, we dined at The Royal Hotel on standard pub fare. The beer garden at The Royal is notable for the amazingly extensive grapevine, planted in the 1890s (!) that spreads over a support structure, providing a lovely shady, green canopy.
The next morning we headed to Gulargambone and found excellent coffee, bacon and egg rolls and friendly staff at Café/Gallery 2828. There are many corrugated iron sculptures of galahs in and around the town and the lovely ladies at the café enlightened us as to their significance. Gulargambone is derived from the local Wiradjuri people’s word for “watering place of many birds” or Gillahgambone for “place of galahs”.
When my children were little, they had a favourite picture book called “Come By Chance”. It’s by Madeleine Winch and tells the delightful story of a woman named Bertha and her cosy, welcoming home that she named Come By Chance. Checking out Google maps, I noted that with a small deviation, we could visit a place called Come by Chance. My hopes were high for a fridge magnet, maybe a coffee mug, a souvenir of such a delightfully named location and so, around 25 kilometres north of Coonamble we left the highway headed for CBC. Shortly after leaving the highway the road turned to dirt. I could sense the consternation emanating from Ian as he negotiated the potholes and channels carved by recent rains but onwards we ventured albeit at a severely reduced speed. I looked about whilst constantly checking Google maps and the car’s GPS and counted down the kilometres until our arrival. And then…there was Come By Chance receding into the rear view mirror. “Stop!” I exclaimed, “That was it!” “What was what?” Ian enquired.
Here we are at Come By Chance
The red dirt road we were following intersected with another red dirt road and at that point the indicators on both of our navigation aids told us that intersection was indeed the much anticipated location of Come By Chance. There was not even a sign to tell us we were there. I have never encountered more nothingness than what we found at Come By Chance. The name certainly alludes to coming across something amongst all the expanse of not very much, but we are here to tell you that there is oodles of nothing at Come By Chance. I was just relieved that we didn’t leave any of our low slung car’s innards on the track during the drive to get there.
Along the way however, we did come across Yarraman Lagoon. The recent rains had made a veritable bird paradise out of this inland waterway and the resulting wetlands were teeming with a great variety and number of birds.
Shortly after we passed through Come By Chance we came across one of the largest grain storage facilities we’ve ever seen and the road was once again sealed, which as it turned out wasn’t such a good thing after all as Mr Lead-foot was stopped and asked if there was any good reason why he was travelling at just under 20 kilometres over the speed limit. There is absolutely no excuse but it’s easy to do on wide open roads, with no hills and no traffic. Duly fined and politely chastised we continued on and Ian employed the very useful cruise control option to prevent any further violations.
A short stop in Walgett for coffee and a photo of a signpost giving the distance and direction of, you guessed it, Come By Chance, (48 kilometres apparently). We continued on to our next overnight destination, the opal mining town, Lightning Ridge. The town really hasn’t changed since I was last there in my early teenage years (and that’s eons ago). A town set on a grid pattern with simple fibro houses, a few restaurants, a Bowling Club, a pub and what could best be described as a shanty town of shacks beside heaps of white stones and dirt tailings. These are interspersed with open mineshafts complete with varying attempts at hazard mitigation. Most are potential plummet-to-your-death traps. Some had a makeshift wire perimeter but if you feel the need for a wander in these parts, it’s probably best that you heed the scattered signs that warn of the possibility that you may disappear at a particularly surprising rate and if you are ever found, the best you could hope for is that fine you receive for trespassing won’t be so large that you are unable to afford your hospital bills.
Taking a drive out to the Artesian Baths we lowered ourselves cautiously from the 36° air into the 41.5° water. You do need to be careful that you don’t overheat while immersed, but there is something very soothing about soaking in the mineral rich baths. There are supposed great health benefits to be had from a dip in the waters from the Great Artesian Basin. I’m not sure if I am just highly suggestible but my dodgy knee did seem to feel less achy after our swim.
After careful consideration, we chose an Italian restaurant in town called Piccolo for our dinner. Arriving around 6.15 we were asked if we had a reservation. When we answered no, we were told we could be seated at 7.45. Who knew?! We drove on to the other Italian restaurant, Bruno’s, (yes, two Italian restaurants in LR, and just 200 metres apart). They too were crowded and again we were asked if we had a reservation, however when we answered in the negative they were still able to accommodate us in a lovely window alcove. The pasta was delicious and the young fellow who served us seemed a little nervous but was obviously trying to make a good impression when he brought our food and urged us to “Have a good dinner.”
We left our accommodation the next morning amongst a flurry of visiting galahs making themselves at home in the gumtrees and on the Hill’s Hoist clothes line in the back yard. Heading north-west we passed through Goodooga which appeared deserted. I’m sure there were people there, just not out and about as we passed through. The countryside was very flat, covered in low saltbush scrub and we saw abundant emus, unidentified birds of prey, and many magpies, cranes, parrots and galahs. Over the Barwon River to Brewarrina where we stopped at the excellent and well patronised Muddy Waters Café. Again we found friendly, happy staff and great food and coffee. I had a delicious pumpkin, spinach and fetta tart with salad and very good it was too.
A long time ago, I visited Bourke with my parents and my younger brother. Mum and Dad had driven non-stop the nearly 800 kilometres to get there in one go from Sydney and so they went to the hotel for a rest while my brother and I explored. Being older and clearly more responsible I instructed YB to be very careful on the slippery banks of the Darling River. Several times I warned him of the hazard of slipping and how annoying that would be not to mention potentially dangerous. I was still explaining all this when my feet shot out from under me and down I went into the slick river mud, coating my backside comprehensively in that very same mud. The memory still makes me giggle. Ian and I visited the river again and I’m happy to say it went without incident this time.
Bourke has some lovely old buildings and as we wandered the streets to look at them we met a local lady and got chatting. She voiced her concerns about the problems in the area but also talked about her love of and pride in, her home town. There is work to be done here to discourage some people from causing trouble. One such initiative is a café down by the river, employing young, local unemployed people with troubled backgrounds and no café experience. It trains them in hospitality and skills them up for future employment options. We were happy to support the endeavour and get our coffee fix. The river was running high and flowing quickly, fed from further north where the rains had caused flooding. The towering gums on the river banks were full of sulphur crested cockatoos causing a noisy ruckus and they occasionally took flight as a whole group and swooped low over the river in a blur of squawking white feathers. A flock of Black cockatoos wheeled overhead also.
Heading north the 250 kilometres to Cunnamulla there was much more vegetation either side of some parts of the highway and much of it was green too. We passed goats and emus and we startled a massive bird that I’m pretty sure was a Wedge-Tailed Eagle as it feasted on roadkill and took to the air with vast wings struggling to lift off. A really magnificent creature! We passed through several small towns on the B71 north including Enngonia which appeared to be a pub (The Oasis), a primary school and a preschool and that was about it really, (still a helluva lot more going on than Come By Chance!) We crossed the border into Queensland and drove on to Cunnamulla.
A cabin at the Cunnamulla Tourist Park was home for the night and we were met by a welcome committee of four (actually five, if you look closely) kangaroos and inside the cabin, cranked up air-conditioning which was very welcome after the mid 30s heat outside.
Again I checked out the “What to do and see” list. First up was the “Robber Tree”. It’s just as well there is an explanatory plaque at this site because the tree itself is a sorry sight.
Next is the Cunnamulla Fella, a large statue of a fictional character immortalised in a country and western song with the same name. He has a far-away stare and a mug impossibly full of tea, his hat is suitably broad brimmed and his demeanour brooding and masculine. I had my photo taken with him and we were on our way.
Third on the list was a “Riverside Walk” and we set off to see if it provided more “riverside” than our last one. Sadly, it did not. There was an arm of the track that took you down to the river which was full, wide and gently flowing but the actual circuit walk was well away from the river. It was well away from everything actually. There were some plaques placed along the track to tell what you might see but apart from a couple of cheeky Willy-Wagtails we only spied a lot of low scrub and a nest of meat ants.
After our dinner near miss the previous night, we took no chances and booked dinner at the recommended place to eat in town, the pub, aptly named Hotel Cunnamulla. We turned up at six o’clock and found the dining room, spacious and with the tables laid but no diners. A woman bustled in the kitchen and she directed us to the bar to order. We wandered back out to the bar where there was a lone patron propped on a barstool enjoying a beer. When he saw us emerge he stood up and went around to behind the bar. This was the publican, the lady in the kitchen his wife. We ordered roast beef and remained in the bar to eat and chat to the publican. The food was delicious and there was plenty of it. When the plates were cleared I had to apologise for not being able to finish it. “That’s ok’” she replied. “We’re used to feeding truckies.” There were no other diners and only one other customer during the time we were there. We wondered what the owners thought of our need to make a booking that was clearly unnecessary. The pub brews a couple of signature beers, the full-strength ‘Cunnamulla Fella’ and the mid-strength ‘Cunnamulla Sheila’.
After dinner, we drove a short way out of town and marvelled at the blanket of countless stars and the astonishing Milky Way. It really was stunning. The evening was clear and mild and it was hard to look down and get back into the car.
We were lucky as overnight, a storm blustered through and rain fell like a herd of antelope galloping over our tin roof. The day dawned cool and sunny however and we took in number four on the “Things to do and see” list, a walk in the dunes. Well dune might be closer to the mark. We startled a few kangaroos on the track and we clambered to the top of the red sand but as a local landmark, it lacked the wow! factor of say, the Sahara or Namib.
Driving out of Cunnamulla, on the open road again, a burst of bright green and yellow flashed over the road as a flock of budgerigars swooped into our path and then up through the trees. The road follows the rail line and we discovered why we hadn’t spotted any trains on our drive when we came across a bridge with a large part missing. This was the site of an explosion in 2014, when a truck laden with ammonium nitrate fertiliser rolled over and exploded taking out the truck, the road, the rail bridge, and an attending firetruck but thankfully no lives, although eight people were injured in the secondary explosion.
We saw lots more emus and several circling birds of prey but honestly, the landscape just has an abundance of not very much (or not enough of either nothing or something) to be interesting. It lacks the extreme red dirt sparseness of the western outback areas and there aren’t enough features to make it scenic. It’s flat and scrubby and monotonous but the road was in good condition and the occasional passing roadtrain was always exhilarating. They are over 53 metres long!
We arrived in Charleville at lunch time and sought a local café or bakery for some sustenance. Heinemann’s Bakery supplied two of the best meat pies we’ve ever tasted, crisp, flaky pastry and plentiful, delicious filling. They were busy when we were there, so word has clearly got around. Charleville was the site of the first of several information talks that we had pre-booked. The Charleville Bilby Experience, located at the old Charleville Train Station, was a wonderful introduction to one of our most endangered native marsupials. Two passionate and interesting rangers told us of the efforts to preserve and expand the bilby’s numbers. Like most of our native fauna, the bilby is easy prey for the rampant populations of feral cats and foxes and so the key to their survival is a vast feral animal-proof fenced enclosure in south-west Queensland. This is where the bilbies born in careful breeding programs at other sites around Australia are released and monitored. The highlight of the experience was to see a couple of lively bilbies, Barry and Belinda, hopping happily about a glass fronted mini desert enclosure. Infrared lights mimic night time so we got to see them in their active nocturnal phase. So many of Australia’s native marsupials have gone extinct, it is great to see so much dedication and effort being put in to preventing the bilby going the same way.
Charleville also has a “Riverside Walk” and so we set off to explore what it had to offer. Here, finally was a riverside walk that led you on a lovely walk, by the riverside! The Warrego River flows through Charleville and this path gives great views of the tree lined waterway. We met several school kids jumping into the water from overhanging tree branches, some chose to swing out on a rope tied to the tree and fling into the river. Recent rains meant it was fast flowing and wide but the Mum in me wanted to warn of the dangers of jumping into water where you can’t see what lurks below the surface. Other kids rode their dirt motor bikes over a rough track that followed the Riverwalk path. Again my maternal instinct wanted to yell out “Where’s your helmet young lady?!” (but I didn’t). They looked carefree and adventurous and were having a ball no doubt after the stifling confines of the classroom.
Back at our motel we had a quick meal and headed out to Charleville Cosmos Centre where we had another of our experiences booked. The Big Sky Observatory features several 14” Meade telescopes operated by astronomy guides. Seated in a large shed we waited, seated in the dark as Also sprach Zarathustra rang out and the vast roof rolled back to reveal the glistening night sky. We had a perfect night for star gazing and marvelled at the constellations and stars that the guides lined up for our viewing through the telescopes. The facts and figures were mind-boggling, the distances beyond comprehension and the overall experience simply fabulous. You really do forget just how big the sky is when you live in a light polluted city.
The next day we headed east with a stop in Mitchell to have a look at the bottle trees that line several of the streets. Past Mitchell the landscape turned to rolling fields of golden wheat and rust-red sorghum.
We stopped in Roma to check out Roma’s Largest Bottle Tree, which, to be fair, is pretty big. It was transplanted to its present position in 1927 and was fairly well grown even then. It now has a girth in excess of 9.6 metres and a height of about 15 metres. After some lunch in town we drove on to our friend’s place in lovely Toowoomba where we enjoyed some wonderful hospitality and a catch up.
After a great night sleep, we were treated to a drive to the picturesque, heritage listed Spring Bluff Railway station where we watched the very train we had seen waiting at the station in Charleville, chuff its way past on her way to Brisbane. It was the first journey of The Westlander for about two years thanks to pandemic postponements.
Next we visited Picnic Point where a lookout has marvellous views over the surrounding countryside and the restaurant does excellent scones.
Our trip was set around a few nights on the Gold Coast, not one of our favourite destinations but if we agreed to a 90 minute presentation of arm-twisting from a time share company we would receive three nights of luxury accommodation for less than the price of one so we were persuaded. Our visit happened to coincide with three days of mostly miserable wet weather but we didn’t let that stop us enjoying ourselves.
The presentation stretched to two hours while I eyed off the beautiful swimming pools just beyond the window. The company’s big selling point was that our investment would last for thirty seven years!!! I mean, have they looked at our D.O.Bs??? Anyway, I escaped like a dog off a leash and we were soon swimming with the fishes, yes actual fish swim in the salt water section of the pool. We floated around and got pummelled in the spa and wallowed and flipped and just relaxed. We practically had the whole complex to ourselves as the overcast and occasional showery weather kept the other guests at bay but then if you’re in a pool, you can’t get any wetter. We enjoyed our days of R&R despite the weather. It’s been a hectic year so far and a few days of doing very little was just what we needed.
Our next destination was to have been Dorrigo in north east New South Wales but the torrential rain being experienced at that time in that area meant that we were unlikely to get there without a boat and a couple of heavy duty lifejackets. It’s not called Waterfall Way for nothing. That part of NSW was having its second 1 in 500 year flood event in a month! Our Airbnb host was very understanding, allowing us to cancel and instead we headed for Goondiwindi. The only road certain to be passable took us north-west to Ipswich and then we headed south through the aptly named Scenic Rim region.
We stopped in Boonah and found the wonderful Story Time Café where, surrounded by shelves of books and comfy sofas we had a really excellent snack and friendly service. Honestly, their ham, cheese and tomato toastie and homemade apple pie were To. Die. For and the coffee was so good we had a second one!
On the way to Goondiwindi we had stops at Moogerah Dam and the impressive Yelarbon Silo, painted with a mural titled “When the Rain Comes”.
After a walk around the town, we settled in at the impressive Victoria Hotel on Gundy’s main street (yes Goondiwindi is pronounced Gunda-windy) for a nice pub meal. The next morning we decided to take in the… you guessed it…Riverside Walk. This was a lovely amble beside the Macintyre River. We had walked down to the bridge the evening before and the river depth indicator showed just over 19 feet. The next morning however it had risen nearly 3 feet (about a metre) to just under 22 feet so the flooding upstream was having an impact. Goondiwindi itself has endured many floods over the years but now boasts an impressive levy and pump system which has protected the town since 1956 when, after successive devastating floods, the town council decided to construct the levy which has protected the town ever since. The tree-lined river is home to many birds and the walk was very pleasant.
We crossed the river back into NSW and changed our watches again (Qld doesn’t have daylight saving time). We drove south through Bogabilla to a tiny village called North Star. Our GPS didn’t even show that we were on a road, we were just an arrow hovering over the words North Star.
A small sandwich board on the side of the road indicated The Vicarage Café was now open and serving coffee. It was quite surprising to find a very appealing café in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. More country hospitality and delicious cakes and coffee, this time in a lovely garden. We continued south through fields of sorghum and cotton and green, lush countryside. At Barraba we stopped to admire more silo art, this time the depiction of a fellow water divining, (either three depictions of the one person or one depiction of talented, water-divining triplets).
Tamworth was our next destination and I was surprised at how large the town is now. It has certainly grown since my last visit, many years ago. Tamworth is the home of the Country Music Festival and sports one of Australia’s “big things”, this time a Big Golden Guitar, (winners in the Country Music Awards get a Golden Guitar statue for their efforts). The Pig and Tinder Box Restaurant and Bar was a good choice for dinner. It occupies the heritage old bank building in the heart of the town. It was packed when we arrived but at 7.15 every diner in the place rose as one and queued to pay their bill. We found out from a couple at the next table, that Jon Stevens was playing the local entertainment venue that night and apparently every patron at The Pig and Tinder Box with the exception of the Lairds was attending. It sure was quiet after 7.30.
The next day we visited my gorgeous cousins at the farm of one of them in Tambar Springs. We had a fabulous catch up and lunch before heading off to Dubbo. Another Information Talk awaited us at Dubbo, this time an early morning walk through Taronga Western Plains Zoo. We arrived pre-dawn and watched the animals come to in the early morning hours when many of them are most active. It was an excellent behind the scenes look at the zoo with a wonderful volunteer guide. Back at the café we enjoyed a hearty breakfast before heading out on bicycles to check out all the exhibits. The zoo plays a role in breeding programs of several endangered species and its layout means that the animals live in spacious and appropriate surrounding. Zoos have come a long way since I was a child, thank goodness.
On the road between Dubbo and Yeoval I noticed our GPS was showing something called “Animals On Bikes”. We thought maybe there was a mural or perhaps a sculpture park but no, it turns out, that spread along the road for many kilometres are sculptures made of recycled junk, depicting Animals and yes, the animals are on Bikes! They are crazy and hilarious. We had fun pointing them out on the roadside as we drove along.
Our next stop was lovely Cowra where, at the Information Centre, a tiny hologram walks through a scenic background while explaining the details of a dark chapter in Australia’s wartime history. This became known as the Cowra Breakout when disgruntled Japanese prisoners of war staged a bloody escape from their internment camp at Cowra. It is a very disturbing story, my father was just a young recruit when he was sent to Cowra to deal with the aftermath. Cowra is the site of the beautiful Japanese Gardens established to recognise and develop the historic and ongoing relationship between the people of Cowra and the people of Japan. It is a really splendid garden set on five hectares with a peaceful aesthetic and we had a lovely walk after a delicious breakfast in the café there.
We were so lucky to be offered accommodation at our friend’s gorgeous house, an original old railway cottage. Sadly our friend was away but we enjoyed our stay very much and will have to return to enjoy her hospitality in person next time. Her beautiful garden is abundant with veggies and flowers.
After our Japanese Garden walk we drove on to Carcoar on the final day of this particular adventure. Carcoar is a beautiful little town that retains many of the architecture from the 1800s. It is the town where my grandfather was born and it is very picturesque.
It is also the site of Antica Australis, a “restaurant that is not a restaurant”, modelled on an Italian regional locanda, a place where travellers get a hearty meal but menus don’t exist. The Italian ex-pat owner cooks a five course set meal each month and the patrons are taken on a culinary journey by his Australian partner as she explains the source of the local produce and the traditional basis for each dish, our final “Information Talk”, if you will. It really was a holistic dining experience as you learned the origins of the way you were dining and the food you were enjoying. And it was delicious! We wandered the streets after the lunch concluded to enjoy the pretty township and also walk off at least some of the calories we had just consumed. Then it was in the car one last time for the drive home.
All up we drove 4005 kilometres which does give you some idea of the vastness of Australia. Looking at our trip on a map of the country, it is such a tiny route in the grand scheme of things. A trip of similar size in Europe would no doubt take you through a dozen or more countries with their different cultures, languages, topographies, cuisines etc. The landscapes my change in outback Australia but the language and culture remain fairly homogenous. We met many lovely locals and supported numerous regional businesses struggling after the pandemic shut downs slammed their livelihoods. Our trip was an excellent mix of informative encounters and experiences in nature and hey, at least two of our “Riverside Walks” took us by the side of the river.
*This map does not depict each stop we made, it’s just to show our main route.(Google maps will only allow you to input stops A to H)