Skip to main content

Trunkey Creek


For me the most interesting find on this trip was Trunkey Creek. After the welcome sign announcing it as the "Home of Judging the Australian Champion Fleece" you see this wonderful old general store down the slope of the hill. This was enticing enough, but there was more -- the neat as a pin church, the Black Stump hotel, ramshakle old cottages, very old trucks parked by the roadside, the memorial wall singing the praises of the couple that drove the school bus for 40 years and a workshop that reminded me of my old  dad.   And the town's name has that larrikin element that reminds me of my dad too.  They say Trunkey was old timer who had a very large nose.

That leads me to mention something else about country towns.  People are often known by nicknames.  The kind of names that emanate from the schoolyard, because that is where they have come from.  The people go to school together, grow up together and get old together.  Imagine the kids from your grade 1 class being your friends and business associates for your whole life!  It's close knit. It's exclusive.  And it's why people would say to my Mum that she was not local after she had lived in our town for 50 years.

Don't miss out on seeing more of Trunkey Creek.  Visit it at 100 Towns.

Comments

  1. Sounds like a wonderful little town.

    Being a city girl, I only find that kind of exclusivity in my family. I suppose everyone is 'family' in a small town.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That is a very interesting parallel you draw Winam. It is somewhat like that with the same type of love and tensions found in a large family.

      Delete
  2. So really good thought-provoking analysis going on in these posts now, Joan. Such a delight to read and mull on.

    Trunkey Creek rings a bell for some reason. I shall go over and see where it is. Hang on a tick. Golly ... it kept changing its name. I thought it might have been something related to my Family History research, but way too far to the east of my area.

    That church is spanking, isn't it? A little like one of those timber churches in the New England area of the USA.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Classic old General Store, I wonder if the 'mysterious race of Hogans' ran it - re Slessor Poem.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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.

Blue Wren

Having finished the circuit at the zoo we settled down for a nice lunch at the cafe. This chirpy little blue wren came close to our table while his brown wife Jenny jumped playfully on the grass. Nesting swallows swooped in an out of the rafters.
Musing:The Blue Wrens and the Butcher Bird by Judith Wright
"Sweet and small the blue wren
whistles to his gentle hen,
"The creek is full, the day is gold,
the tale of love is never told.
Fear not, my love, nor fly away,
for safe, safe in the blackthorn-tree
we shall build our nest today.
Trust to me, oh trust to me."

Cobwebs they gather and dry grass,
greeting each other as they pass
up to the nest and down again,
the blue wren and the brown wren.
They seek and carry far and near,
down the bank and up the hill,
until that crystal note they hear
that strikes them dumb and holds them still.

Great glorious passion of a voice--
sure all that hear it must rejoice.
But in the thorn-bush silent hide
the nest-builders side by side.
"The…

Royal Hotel - Ganman

And I wrap up this trip with the Royal Hotel at Ganman.