Skip to main content

Glen Davis


Our day tour ends at Glen Davis, a very small town nestled below tall cliffs. Most of the place seems to be crumbling but there is an upmarket boutique hotel.

And that ends this wayfaring adventure but recently we went for a drive to Newnes which takes us back into this region from a slightly different angle. While Newnes is 100 kms away by road from Glen Davis it is apparently only 10 kms apart on foot. We didn't walk it. I'll start our trip to Newnes tomorrow.

Comments

  1. What kind of weather do you have this time of year, JE? We're just slipping into spring.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Your love of countryside beams from each of these images, Joan. I am tossing up at the moment for a week in September.

    Option 1: Hobart and south from there with a hired car.

    Option 2: Barrington Tops, Denman, Dubbo Zoo in my own car.

    Decisions ... decisions ...

    ReplyDelete
  3. PJ, we have had a hot summer and are now slipping into Autumn (Fall). Regarding the temperature at the moment, it depends on where you are. Here in the mountains are are currently hovering around 20C (68F) but in Sydney and these inland places it is around 5C warmer.

    Julie, what a choice to have to make! I've only been to Tassie once and loved it. You know I love Option 2 but I usually do these areas when I am low on time and don't want to spend much because I have the van to camp in.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coolibah?

Is that a Coolibah tree beside the abandoned house? Every Australian knows about Coolibah trees because the bush ballad Waltzing Matilda is nigh on our unoffical national anthem but most of us live nowhere near the inland where they grow. Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, Under the shade of a Coolibah tree, And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled, You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me. Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me, And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

The end

I retire from the workforce this week and to celebrate have decided to retire my current blogs and start afresh with a single consolidated blog -  My Bright Field  - to record the delights of my new life adventure. If you are interested follow me over there.  I will still be Sweet Wayfaring and collecting Royal Hotels.  The delights I discover along the way will appear together with my gardens and towns where I live.

Brown streams and soft dim skies

I gave my husband a thick book on the history of Australian Art for Christmas. It documents just how long it took the artists to paint what they actually saw -- at the hands of early artists our wild Australian landscapes looked like rolling green English countryside. Today's photo has "that look" so I have referenced words from the poem describing England. It was Christmas Eve. We were camped by the Tumut River in the Snowy Mountains of NSW. A shady spot planted with exotic trees from the "old world" and with the soft burble of a swiftly flowing stream. Bliss after a hot afternoon drive. But the old world dies slowly, a hot roast for Christmas dinner followed by plum pudding is one of those traditions that just won't die. Knowing we were going to be on the move on Christmas Day we settled for having our traditional hot meal on Christmas Eve this year.