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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.


  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.

    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.

  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.

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


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