Sweet Wayfaring

Whew, that last trip was a marathon journey! Thank you all for staying the course, it was great to read your comments and have some good discussions on the way. You'll be pleased to know this is just a day trip and in fact covers some of the same ground as last year but with the change of seasons and good rains it's a different world out there now. We are on our way to see what is at Hargraves near Hill End. Despite several trips into the old gold fields west of the mountains we seemed to have always missed Hargraves so the plan was to get there by some back roads that we haven't travelled before ... I've done a map for you and changed the blog banner to match. On every back road you are sure to find an abandoned house of two, so here is the first of them. I found this one quite poignant because the sunlight was falling on pressed metal wall cladding and made me realise, perhaps more than others, that a proud housewife and family once lived in that little home.

We are climbing now through the rain and mist towards our dear Blue Mountains home. But turning into the driveway and looking at our garden you may well think they should be called Green Mountains ... what a soothing sight for sunburnt eyes.

We took one last detour into the tiny town of Woodstock. I loved this little place which encapsulates everything I found so endearing in the dozens of small towns we have passed through on this trip. A bank with residence atop and a sturdy brick Post Office. Shops, some empty and some going strong. Remnant signage from bygone times Impressive buildings that have seen better days One for the men and one for the ladies, a soldiers memorial and a CWA (Country Womens Association), An Anglican church with a bell and Catholics up the street as well. A railway station with a level crossing. But best of all a Royal Hotel.

We are on our last day. We had thought to stay out an extra day but had got very wet setting up camp the night before and the rain was still bucketing down when we packed up in the morning so we decided to head for home. How welcome this rain would be across the land ... a burnt out paddock and nearby burnt orchards a reminder of the ever present threat of fire. I could smell the ash being lifted by the raindrops and see the sheen of green so quick to appear after the slightest drop of rain.

We called into Junee because I remembered it to be a lovely town with a nice railway station and buildings with iron lace verandahs. Can't you see the squatter's daughters on their way home from posh boarding schools alighting from the train and heading over to this hotel for the night. In Australian history squatters were the people who took over large tracts of land often with no legal rights other than being the first Europeans to get there. Over time the squatters/pastoralists became among the wealthiest people in the colony assuming high social prestige. This whistle stop tour simply didn't give us time to enjoy and explore these lovely towns ... we resolved to go back soon as we set of to Cootamundra for our last night's camp.

At Wagga Wagga we said goodbye to the Murrumbidgee at the old river crossing, so typical of the river bridges around New South Wales.

I got so excited as we neared Wagga Wagga ... a mountain! Later there were rocks and the hills began to roll. This was feeling much more like home.