Skip to main content

Ben Bullen


If Cullen Bullen is small then Ben Bullen is much much smaller.  Not much more than a turn in the road that crosses the railway line and a disused railway station. It is also on the edge of the Gardens of Stone National Park.

Rail played an important role in opening up this area in the late 1800s. Each of the little towns we pass along the way is on the line.  Most the stations are closed but the line itself is still used for goods trains. CountryLink buses serve the passenger traffic with one service each way each day.


By the way, Ben Bullen is said to mean high quiet place in the local aboriginal language.

Comments

  1. I think this is the wee station that I have a shot of with the rays of the setting sun. It is sitting on my sofa waiting to be framed and hung. Only taken nigh on two years ...

    Nice area made even nicer by the names of the hamlets ...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Very nice perspective of the railway and old station.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I agree - the railway image is fantastic.

    You've visited so many interesting places :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Great perspective of the dying station. Its sad.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Nice perspective for the old station shot.

    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.