To Dubbo

Well, the getting up and out thing didnt work today. We did get up but then faffed about, speaking to the boys ( who rang us) and generally taking ages doing nothing in particular. 

However, we were away by 0945, stopped just across the road for a Subway for lunch, and then kept going up through the Warrumbungle National Park before turning off down some dirt roads to Dunedoo. This is the hotel where we stayed last night, by the way...

I had a few fishtail moments on the sand, that horrible fine stuff that you cant really see until you’re right in it. But it was ok, and I just went with the bars and stayed up. But the road was actually a good route choice because it was empty; I think we saw  just seven vehicles all the way to Dunedoo.

It was hot too, that dry dusty desert hot , accompanied by a hot wind that gets to you after a while. But we had plenty of water and just kept swilling it so it was OK.

A measure of how dry it is are the empty creeks. Dry parched riverbeds, with not even a trickle of water for the cattle, and more cattle feeding along the verges. 

We did pass an emu farm at one stage, which was pretty funny with these giant chicken like things standing and staring at us. Then they suddenly legged it, en masse, across the non existent grass which they had grazed down to nothing,  great big feet lifting right up off the ground as they ran away. Thankfully, the lot we saw were behind fences which stopped them running across the roads, and we didn’t have any mishaps.

The Subways were scoffed at Dunedoo, a place where apparently there was a plan to attract tourists by building a three storey toilet block. I have no idea why and there is no evidence of it to date, but it wouldnt surprise me if it happened. Afterall, this is the land of the giant merino, a giant banana, and the giant prawn, so a giant toilet block wouldnt be out of place. But who would use it? There were few people about today, and few towns in the surrounding area, and its not the most obvious place you would travel to to park yesterday's meals.

There was also some peculiar art work along the main street. Peculiar because it was a bit out of place, but relevant at the same time. Metal sculpted local birds.They were quite good once I realised what they were - they did look a bit like some of the roadkill skeletons we've seen along the way from a distance - and top fact of the day: Dunedoo is derived from an aboriginal word for Black Swan, of which there were none to be seen. Just as well then that I've seen them on the Serpentine in London.

So after Dunedoo, we rode through a selection of very small towns, none of which were particularly memorable, except for Elong Elong, (so good they named it twice.) and eventually reached Dubbo by mid afternoon. 

It was only when I stopped that I realised that I was covered in red dust, courtesy of the gravel and red sand roads we had been on.  But the bloke at the campsite still let me in, so it can’t have been that bad.

Coonabarabran

We were up early this morning, ready to leave Tamworth, which is now like a ghost town after the last couple of weeks. But when my alarm went off at 0500hrs, it was still bloody dark, so I managed a bit of a snooze in anyway. 

However, we were on the road by 0700, heading for Coonabarabran but along the quieter roads.

We hardly saw any vehicles at all, except for the odd ute and one or two cars. By 0930, we stopped for brekkie at Spring Ridge where the woman in the cafe looked astounded at our arrival. 

She clearly thought we were there to rob her or something and nearly fainted when we ordered eggs on toast and two flat whites.

The choice of road was good  because it went through some interesting countryside. Not spectacular or anything but a bit different, with red soils, and parched grass so brown and short that it looked like sand. In fact, cattle and sheep were grazing along the road, with farmers watching their stock. There really is no feed anywhere, so its verge time.

We also came across some roadworks ( unattended) in the middle of nowhere. It always makes me laugh when that happens because although its usually well marked, I have this theory that the only reason they bother is to let you know that something is a bit different. Not a hazard like it would be anywhere else, but just different because most of the roads look like permanent roadworks anyway.

But the signs get better and better. Who the hell named this place? Fan-feckin-tastic job!!

Anyway, we reached Coona' wothout mishap and decided to stay at the big hotel in town, The Imperial,a grand old wooden and cement affair which is gloriously tatty but still very imposing. Its got an upstairs outside verandah which overlooks the main street, putting you at near eye level with passing sheep trucks and the tops of trucks.

We spent most of the afternoon charging bits and pieces, catching up on jobs and drinking tea. But then this evening, we went out to the Warrumbungle Observatory to do a star gazing tour.

Coona’ is the start gazing captial of Australia, dark skies filled with stars and no light pollution making it an excellent spot to peer out into the universe. There a big research station here too where you can find out about telescopes and things, but the star thing is what we wanted to see. So we headed 9kms out of town to the aptly named Peter Starr ( real name too!!) who used to manage one of the big telescopes out here. And what a good choice that turned out to be. A really knowledgeable man with some very powerful telescopes that enabled us to see stars and planets clearly.

Actually, it was all quite mind boggling but worth the effort. Jupiter was clearly visible, as was Sirius and Uranus. Uranus was discovered by Herschel ( a Brit) back in the 1700s and called George after the then King George 3rd of England       ( who was actually a German) But after 50 years, the French got the arse and renamed it Neptune, so the Brits changed it to Herschel, until finally, everybody agreed on Uranus. And I do wonder whether the Brits agreed to that name because it sounds so much like what they thought of the French. Just saying.... But anyway, light from it takes three years to reach earth, therefore proof that  light does in fact shine out of Uranus.

I also discovered that our sun is so big, that one million earths would fit inside it, and it would take eleven earths lined  up to cover the diameter of the sun. It's five million years old, and expected to last ten, then it will blow and die. But Siruis is 49 times brighter than our sun but eight light years away, which is why we can't feel its heat, or see its light any more than we do. Light years are measured in 300 000kms per second, so eight years is quite a way away. But there are loads further a field but I cant remember what they’re called.

The Southern Cross has two pointer stars, Alpha and Beta centuri,  Alpha being one of our fairly near neighbours at just four light years away. However, were you to take a motoring holiday to it, it would take you  42 million years. And apparently, it would be quite a boring drive too as there’s not much to see on the way. Better then to go by space craft, and pack it into a mere 75000 year trip. But I’d still rather go by postie bike,given a choice. 

The southern end of the long axis of the Cross points towards the Southern pole, but unlike the northern hemisphere, there is no southern marker star. Coona' lies at 31 degrees south, and it's a fact that there are more stars in the southern sky than the north because the Milky way ( our galaxy) passes almost directly overhead at 30º.

But that is enough anoraking for tonight. The bikes went well in the dark, the very dim headlamp straining to pick out grass verges and roos grazing on them. But again, we took it carefully and got back to the hotel in one piece. (or two pieces as there are two of us) So tomorrow, its onwards to Dubbo and then Parkes.

Tamworth Roundup

Well, Tamworth Country Music Festival..........we came for a few days but stayed for the full 14. And what a great two weeks it’s been. I am not a country music fan, and would probably not have come without a bit of nagging and a degree of curiosity. But even I have loved it and would definitely come again. 

I’m still not a country fan per se ( the poor old one legged dog that’s about to be put down type songs just don’t do it for me, not do many covers, murdered by hopeful yet usually tired imitators) But I do like the fast and entertaining mix of folk/rock/ country, and the original stuff that I’ve heard in the past few weeks. In fact, I’ve bought more music here than I have done for years, and have it stashed on my ipod, ready for the Nullabor.

But rather than bore the tits off you, I’ve just done a round up here with some pictures; more detailed stuff will be on a separate post (which is more to remind myself) when I get round to it. Maybe.

Tamworth is a bit of a local hub, a reasonable sized place with the usual shops and businesses plus a bit more. It was the first city in Australia to start using electricity ( back in 1888) and there is an electricity museum here ( didn’t visit it; we have electricity at home and don't need to know more) plus various country music references, like the hall of fame, pavement plaques to Golden Guitar Awards down Peel Street ( a sort of Grammy’s for Country Music) and a big golden guitar on the city outskirts. 

The main street, Peel Street, and the Peel River are both named named after the then MP for Tamworth in the UK, Robert Peel, the same bloke who invented the Met Police. There is also an Equestrian centre just up from the giant guitar, which is the biggest equestrian centre in the southern hemishphere, and regularly hosts horsey events. We watched rodeo there, twice.

But none of that really matters while the festival is on, with the town undergoing a complete transformation from modest country town to buzzing major music centre with thousands of visitors, well known music stars, and buskers, all mingled together, playing, singing, eating, watching others or just wandering. 

Adam Harvey - big country singer

The atmosphere is fabulous, with people coming from all over Australia and beyond, just for the festival. Many dress up, many don’t, and the whole place turns into a sort of  anything goes show, where people do what they want, weird becomes normal and nobody bats and eyelid or gives a crap. Its great.

The cross dressing swaggie wore his halterneck leopard print sundress most days and nobody bothered him, even after a few beers, the fat biker type squeezed into a onesie wandered up and down the main street similarly untroubled, while the bloke cooking sausages in the park did so in his spotty apron. 

Cross dressing swage

It’s been pretty hot too, the old barometer hitting 41º last week, which although a dry heat, was still a bit raw, particularly when shade is limited. But I love the heat, so it didn’t bother me. I just kept drinking water, wore a hat and kept out of direct heat. And once or twice, we found a nice cool pub and took refuge there. 

The best bit of the festival though was that Nadine was able to join us. She rode her postie up from Kempsey and managed to stay for six days, which really made the festival; it’s just not the same without her. 

It was great having her back, albeit only for a limited time and even if she did forget her tent and so had to bunk in mine. Dozy tart.....

The festival highlights have been many. The opening concert was pretty special, particularly as the celebratory fireworks set the park alight and added a bit of unexpected excitement to the event. ( the bloke who does them is a minister who does it as a sideline and goes by the name of' Holy Smoke')

It  was free too, with flowing music from start to finish.  I didn't know many of the acts though, but they were all pretty good.

The Sunny Cow girls

Beccy Cole was an excellent gig later in the week, as was Lyn Bowtell, both of whom are both well known singers ( and I had heard of both). And Libby O'Donovan who is apparently a jazz bird who does a bit of country....according to Beccy Cole...... She was also excellent.

Beccy Cole

Lyn Bowtell

Libby O'Donovan

The best group I saw all week was without doubt, were the Round Mountain Girls, five blokes ( the lead singer being a scouser) playing a mix of folk and rock, jumping on tables, belting out great songs and giving everybody a brilliant time. I think we saw them three times, and they were excellent on each occasion.

River Mountain Girls

And this lot - The Twine, were very cool. A mix of percussion with digeridoos and a few vocals, all muddled together in a sort of street music style. 

And like festivals anywhere, a community builds up over the days and we met some great people. Ronnie and her two girls, ( poodles called Sally and Poppy), Tony the Pom, and loads of people who wandered by and stopped to chat about bikes, something accentuated by an article and photo in the local paper about us travelling around Oz. 

Ronnie

Unbeknown to us, the word had got around that one bloke and two sheilas ( the reporter’s words, not mine) were at Riverside Park, having stopped for the festival on their way around Oz. So the paper sent somebody to find us, take our pic, and write about us. That was quite funny and as a consequence, we were recognised in shops,in the physio’s, on the site, at gigs.

I bought a swag too, my tent having broken a bit. But it was only 60 bucks and I've lived in it for nearly four months. The  swag is a bike specific swag too and I love it. And guess what? Roger in the camping shop had also read about us in the paper.

Roger in the camping shop

My ace swag

On the day Nadine left, we rode with her for a few kms, then turned off towards Nundle and Hanging Rock. Its not the Hanging Rock of Joan Lindsay’s novel; that’s down near Melbourne but it was good enough for a gander and a few snaps.

The pub there also hosts some of the festival music, and has a two headed cow on display.

On the final Saturday, there was a cavalcade through town, a free breakfast the following day, and then various raucous events to celebrate Australia Day.....which of course is a day celebrating a Pom...but I don't think they realise that. Made me chuckle though.

We spent most of that in the pub, having a good time and swigging ice cold cider, and chatting to John and Christine from Queensland.

Christine

John

Armidale to Tamworth

Had a limp around Armidale yesterday. Turns out the Physio who last treated my leg in Kempsey misdiagnosed and did all the wrong things, which us why it's like it is now. But the new bloke fixed it so I can at least walk. 

The blokes in the SuperMoto New England, in Armidale fixed Gordon's indicators for him, and lent him a scooter while they worked on it. They were working only intermittently and it turned out to be a dry solder joint and then also a glass fuse. They were a really helpful crew and did a good job with minimum fuss. After those Honda tossers in Wagga Wagga, it's nice to come across a professional dealer outfit. Thanks guys! (And BTW , they fix anything with engines from whippersnippers and lawn mowers, to bikes and quads. Good people to know)

So today then, we rode on to Tamworth, only a short ride of just over 100 kms, and all on the highway. The plan was to get to Tamworth and find a place to camp as close to the centre of town as possible because all usual accommodation is booked out and prices inflated anyway. However, the council lays on a temporary campsite in one of the parks but it's first come, first served. 

We stooped briefly at Bendemeer at a store, had an ice cream and got chatting to the owners, Wilma and Wayne. They'd only moved to Bendemeer in December, with their dog Sach. Wayne had been a cop in Queensland for 30 years, and like us had escaped. Again, very nice people and I would like to have chatted to them for longer but we had to go. 

It was warm at Bebdemeer but as we dropped down off the high ground to Tamworth, it was like dropping into a heat fug.

But we were moving and our gear is well vented, so it wasn't too bad at all. It's a dry heat, no humidity at all, so you stay dry and just have to remember to get into the shade as often as you can, and of course drunk plenty of water.

The plan worked and we got a good shady place in the temporary campsite, right on the fiver and within walking distance to town. 

I'll tell you about Tamworth next week when we've left as there's too much to see and do while its going on.

Onwards to Armidale

The weather was quite cool in Dorrigo this morning, pleasant for packing up and getting sorted. John, the bloke camping near to us came over for a chat before leaving. He’s been doing a bit of walking in the parks round the area but after today will be winding his way home southwards to Canberra. Another nice fella, who invited us to call in should we go back to Canberra.

The Armidale road is a straight line from Dorrigo, and gradually progresses from lush pastures to brown dirt. 
It is still the Waterfall Way though - which  sounds more like a suburban housing estate road than a main highway. Armidale was apparently named after Armidale on the Isle of Skye, from  where the ferry runs to Mallaig on the mainland. 

I rode that route too several years ago, on another small bike, my trusty pizza delivery bike, which at 125cc is a comparative beast.  And the Glasgow deckie who tied my bike down laughed when I told him I’d ridden from London on it and was on my way backdown the UK; I wonder what he’d say about riding round Oz on a 110cc then? Anyway, the road does sneak past some pretty awesome waterfalls, not that you’d really know they were there.

Like these at Ebor. We stopped there for a coffee, met a bloke called Dave and his daughter Samantha, saw a photo of the falls in the cafe and stopped on our way past. 

Its on the Guy Fawkes River, so called because a bloke called Parke camped on its banks on Guy Fawkes Day 1844.

Or these at Wollomombi, where the Wollomombi and Chandler rivers meet and both tip over massive sheer rockfaces, crashing down 200 metres.Only there was none of that today because there was no water. Not a drop. Bone dry. Somebody had nicked the water. All of it.

It's one thing for a river to dry up and leave puddles or a slow trickle, but both of these are massive rivers and the falls are some of the tallest in Australia, so for them both to be completely dry was really something. But this is what they look like when they are flowing - an official  picture, not mine.

 But just imagine being the first explorer to see them. They must have been pretty amazing. John Oxley who surveyed rivers nearby, commented about similar falls.

The fact that they can dry up is also an indication of just how arid and harsh this place can get. The grass is already scrabby and brown, the dirt baked hard like concrete and ‘green’ doesn’t exist. Yet horses, and sheep still graze away like its the tastiest feast ever. Maybe it is, who knows.

This area is generally known as New England, and that’s down to the distinct four season climate, which is unlike most of the rest of Oz, and autumn leaf colours which are apparently a real spectacle. So does that then mean the trees are mostly deciduous? They’d have to be in order to change colour and drop I think; I’ll have to investigate.

Even with our frequent stops and the hilly road, we reached Armidale by mid afternoon and found somewhere to stay.

It's also Australia’s highest city - high as in altitude rather than the Bellingen sort of high. It has a noted problem with air pollution too, caused almost entirely by emissions from wood burning domestic fires. So much for the good clean air of Australia. And it has a bit of a hail problem from time to time; real monster storms that bash down buildings and make them collapse under the weight of iceballs.

It’s quite a substantial place with some pretty buildings and proper stuff going on, including a choice of physios,one of whom is going to try and sort my leg out for me tomorrow afternoon. Its now so bad that I can't walk so have to move by a combination of hop, shuffle and drag, which is very boring as well as tiring. I did try swimming to see if that would help but it didn’t as I cant move it sideways at all. Fortunately though, riding is fine, even if kick starting is difficult. I sort of fall on the lever and hope it turns the motor. If not, Gordon has to kick it for me.