And catch up on the blog.
One of the reasons I try and blog daily is because its so easy to forget what I've done, who I've met and what I've seen if I don't. If I really can't, I make notes, then try and do it the next day. But three sleeps have slipped by this time......whoops.
A couple of interesting facts which I forgot to mention when I found them out.
1. Port Arthur in Tasmania is a commercialised historical site, organised and managed as part of a heritage programme, and a good job of what it sets out to do. However, a few kms away in the bush, there is another convict town. Only this one is derelict and overgrown, left as it was when abandoned. It's not generally mentioned because the locals don’t want the tourism or developers but I'd like to have seen it. Sounds interestingly creepy.
2. The railway from Cootamundra northwards negotiates a steep incline over some hills. According to John the mechanic, there is one particular hill around where the track passes through twice. Its known locally as ‘the loop‘ and in the lore of railway stuff, it's a very well known feature and unique to the area.
So in the last few days and after finding a camp spot near Crescent Head, we went wandering.
So in the last few days and after finding a camp spot near Crescent Head, we went wandering.
Port Macquarie, known locally as ‘Port’ is not far away, but a bit of drag along dirt roads and highway to get there. When we got back, some local blokes who told us of a dirt road short cut which would have saved us quite a few kms. But it wasn't on the pa and we had no signal to search on the net. Oh well.
Anyway, Port is OK, a town with the usual stuff surrounded by beaches, and a line of painted rocks long the waterfront.
It apparently started about 20 years ago when somebody decided to graffiti a rock or two but with a message rather than just a tag. The idea caught on so that now that whole waterfront is framed by them.
Some are memorials, some family ‘we were here’ type markers, others are from travellers passing through on a big trip, birthday wishes, engagement stones, and other odds and ends. There is hardly a naked rock left and they make a pretty cool feature.
It apparently started about 20 years ago when somebody decided to graffiti a rock or two but with a message rather than just a tag. The idea caught on so that now that whole waterfront is framed by them.
Some are memorials, some family ‘we were here’ type markers, others are from travellers passing through on a big trip, birthday wishes, engagement stones, and other odds and ends. There is hardly a naked rock left and they make a pretty cool feature.
But how do these things catch on and develop, rather than get cleared up? It didn’t happen overnight, and somebody took a bit of time and effort to do it. But who let it stay? And why? It's a bit like the padlock thing on bridges, and like them, far from being and eyesore, it adds interest to the town.
The cicadas here are out in force at the moment, doing their noise thing. Yet try as I might to spot them, I have yet to see any. They are either very well camouflaged or its a recording somebody has put here to add a bit of ‘wild’ to wild camping. I am still undecided as to which version it is though.
Once they start, the noise audibly builds into complete wall of surround sound that Mr Dolby and Mr Spector would be proud of, but then you cease to notice it anymore - until it suddenly stops and the silence hits you. It sounds like ice on the electricity wires in the winter, only much louder, a sort of mad buzzing vibration. Funny how nature resembles man sometimes, although no resemblance is actually intended.
There are nesting turtles on the beach here too but I can't find any info as to when they are around, and crabs too. On the beach in the morning, little 3cm wide holes going down about 15cms, with small piles of excavated sand outside, give the latter away. I saw a few but the were too quick for me to get a picture.
Hat Head
After a few jobs in Kempsey, where it was very hot, we nipped into Subway for a take away sandwich. It could have been Subway in Mitcham or Streatham, with the same customers, squeezed into the same clothes, sporting the same tattoos, behaving in the same way while buying their lunch.
Even the woman shrieking questions about sandwich ingredients to people scattered across the place, playing on their phones and completely unaware of other customers waiting to be served, was straight out of south London.
But the sandwich was good and we ate it on the beach at Hat Head. We had intended to walk there, and take a closer look at the gums and rain forest that come right down to the water but it was very windy and the airborne sand made it difficult to see, so we gave up on that one.
It's also a grey nurse shark territory, where young ones are born and old ones come to die. Grey Nurse sharks are supposed to be nice sharks, not bitey ones like the others, but I'm not convinced. We didn't see any anyhow, but I stayed on terra firm just incase, even if most of the terra firm was flying about in the air.
South West Rocks
Christmas Eve and it was time to move onto South West Rocks and the hotel for Christmas Day and Boxing Day. It's only about 60 kms from Crescent Head which is just as well as we are silly overloaded and the bikes are quite unwieldily. The weight issue will have to be sorted soon, with stuff being chucked.
But as I was packing up, i found this caterpillar on my tent. Fluro green with porthole markings down the side and a horn on its head, I thought it best not to touch it. So I pushed it with a stick to try and dislodge it. Cheeky thing immediately tried to get me with the horn thing, so the stick was a good call.
It's all pasture land round here, cattle, horses, green fields and things for sale at farm gates, interspersed with the odd blow up Santa and tinselled sleighs. But it's Christmas and effort is a must.
We stopped at Gladstone for a bite to eat as we were running early. The town cafe/ shop served really good for and turned out to be a quite a hub and hive of activity as we sat there.
I love these local places as people come up and chat, always, and without fail. We were only there an hour or so but in that time met some really great people.....
a 93 year old Dutch lady who had lived in Australia since 1952 but still had the strongest Dutch accent ever. She was from Amsterdam and in the space of 15 minutes, told me what it was like in the Netherlands immediately after WW2, that her mother had died of a stomach complaint, that she and her children had taken English classes in Holland before they left for Australia, that her husband worked on a dairy farm and milked cows by hand, and that she loved animals. And all while eating her sandwich - the telling me, not the milking.
Ray, who was dating the Dutch lady's daughter and had only known her for three weeks but was Mum sitting while daughter worked. He is a local dairy farmer and offered us his house for Christmas as he will be away. He even said there was milk in the fridge.
Bonny the Collie, just 12 months old and excited to be in town.
A landscape gardener who'd lived in London in his youth and loved it. He hurt his shoulder last week using a whacker, and had just been to the doctor to stock up on morphine to tide him over Christmas.
Shona who worked in the shop, had a Scottish father, English mother and a gran from Manchester who never lost her accent. Shona admitted to itchy feet and can't get over how Europeans can (and do) wander from country to country because we can, just to look at stuff. She was really chatty and I had a good old jaw with her.
But the time came to move on and get to the hotel, so we reluctantly left. The hotel is nice, with a pool and laundry in which to wash our now very filthy riding gear. Unfortunately I also washed my iPod, thus buggering it. Good job I have a spare then.
Before the washing fiasco, we nipped into town for food for the next two days. Amazingly, we seem to have timed it right as it wasn't busy. Shop staff were all dressed up....or were they? Maybe this is how they look year round; after all, this Australia place does have some funny old ways. But Lora at the check out was still cheerful, despite the weight of her antlers.
Hat Head
After a few jobs in Kempsey, where it was very hot, we nipped into Subway for a take away sandwich. It could have been Subway in Mitcham or Streatham, with the same customers, squeezed into the same clothes, sporting the same tattoos, behaving in the same way while buying their lunch.
Even the woman shrieking questions about sandwich ingredients to people scattered across the place, playing on their phones and completely unaware of other customers waiting to be served, was straight out of south London.
But the sandwich was good and we ate it on the beach at Hat Head. We had intended to walk there, and take a closer look at the gums and rain forest that come right down to the water but it was very windy and the airborne sand made it difficult to see, so we gave up on that one.
It's also a grey nurse shark territory, where young ones are born and old ones come to die. Grey Nurse sharks are supposed to be nice sharks, not bitey ones like the others, but I'm not convinced. We didn't see any anyhow, but I stayed on terra firm just incase, even if most of the terra firm was flying about in the air.
South West Rocks
Christmas Eve and it was time to move onto South West Rocks and the hotel for Christmas Day and Boxing Day. It's only about 60 kms from Crescent Head which is just as well as we are silly overloaded and the bikes are quite unwieldily. The weight issue will have to be sorted soon, with stuff being chucked.
But as I was packing up, i found this caterpillar on my tent. Fluro green with porthole markings down the side and a horn on its head, I thought it best not to touch it. So I pushed it with a stick to try and dislodge it. Cheeky thing immediately tried to get me with the horn thing, so the stick was a good call.
It's all pasture land round here, cattle, horses, green fields and things for sale at farm gates, interspersed with the odd blow up Santa and tinselled sleighs. But it's Christmas and effort is a must.
We stopped at Gladstone for a bite to eat as we were running early. The town cafe/ shop served really good for and turned out to be a quite a hub and hive of activity as we sat there.
I love these local places as people come up and chat, always, and without fail. We were only there an hour or so but in that time met some really great people.....
a 93 year old Dutch lady who had lived in Australia since 1952 but still had the strongest Dutch accent ever. She was from Amsterdam and in the space of 15 minutes, told me what it was like in the Netherlands immediately after WW2, that her mother had died of a stomach complaint, that she and her children had taken English classes in Holland before they left for Australia, that her husband worked on a dairy farm and milked cows by hand, and that she loved animals. And all while eating her sandwich - the telling me, not the milking.
Ray, who was dating the Dutch lady's daughter and had only known her for three weeks but was Mum sitting while daughter worked. He is a local dairy farmer and offered us his house for Christmas as he will be away. He even said there was milk in the fridge.
Bonny the Collie, just 12 months old and excited to be in town.
A landscape gardener who'd lived in London in his youth and loved it. He hurt his shoulder last week using a whacker, and had just been to the doctor to stock up on morphine to tide him over Christmas.
Shona who worked in the shop, had a Scottish father, English mother and a gran from Manchester who never lost her accent. Shona admitted to itchy feet and can't get over how Europeans can (and do) wander from country to country because we can, just to look at stuff. She was really chatty and I had a good old jaw with her.
But the time came to move on and get to the hotel, so we reluctantly left. The hotel is nice, with a pool and laundry in which to wash our now very filthy riding gear. Unfortunately I also washed my iPod, thus buggering it. Good job I have a spare then.
Before the washing fiasco, we nipped into town for food for the next two days. Amazingly, we seem to have timed it right as it wasn't busy. Shop staff were all dressed up....or were they? Maybe this is how they look year round; after all, this Australia place does have some funny old ways. But Lora at the check out was still cheerful, despite the weight of her antlers.
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