The NSW Mid to North Coast

The Sunday traffic was overwhelming as I drove from Bathurst to Newcastle. I'm not used to busy roads and high volume traffic: I've been living in remote areas for a long time and usually have the road to myself. Once I entered the outskirts of Sydney (and I mean the outskirts: Bilpin), the road rage was apparent, as time poor people rushed to their destination as the weekend was drawing to a close. I skirted western Sydney to join the stream of cars on the freeway north, feeling the pressure. It was with great relief when I pulled up at mum's place after some four hours of continuous concentration: it was not a pleasurable driving experience; it was hard work! And people do that every day! Geez. I guess that's one of the reasons why I elect to live the quiet life in rural areas. Too many people equates to too much traffic, and brings about a lot more agro. Part and parcel of surviving the rat race I suppose. Though I must join it if I wish to visit family and friends.

So I spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening reclined on mum's couch, recovering from not only the stressful journey, but also  from the big reunion weekend. Lots of chatting and recalling memories can be exhausting! Thank goodness for the sanctuary of mum's home (and mum!); it's a peaceful setting amongst a backdrop of large eucalypts and the sounds of native and migratory birds, just up the road from the shores of Lake Macquarie.

This was to be a short visit this time, so lunch and dinner dates were arranged to catch up with friends and my sister and niece, in between shopping with mum. The summer wardrobe was slim and needed a top up before returning to live in the tropics. Goodbye thermals; hello singlet tops! The shopping list was steadily ticked off, and in our travels we came across an old friend who we last encountered when we visited Kong Kong; Lucky Cat. Perhaps it's a good omen!

I stuffed the Subi with all my new purchases, plus other items that have been 'in storage' at my brother's and mum's for some years, including the wedding Persian rug. It is time to gather all belongings spread far and wide over the decades and take them to our chosen home base. Although I'm not sure what we'll do with the shipping container in Hobart at the moment! I'm sure things will become a bit clearer once we are settled some more and have gained employment (an interview this week is looking promising!).

A teary farewell to mum and it was off to Coffs Harbour. I would have preferred to take the New England Highway inland, but as I was time poor it was straight up the Pacific. It would have been great to catch up with more friends along the way, but not to be this time. Actually I think I could spend most of the year visiting friends and family, but it is time to get on with it I suppose. Job, house, veggie garden....then do some more travelling after that!

The traffic was surprisingly light along the coastal highway, a route I have not done for many years. The dual carriageway as far as Nambucca Heads made the journey very pleasant indeed - lovely scenery too. A spin around the Coffs Creek track on arrival into Coffs Harbour got rid of a few cobwebs after the five hour drive. Plus a ride to the harbour and beach with friend Brian early the following morning, after a pleasant evening in with a tasty risotto and accompanying glass of red.

I could have stayed at Coffs for a week, but it was to be another five hour driving day, with a stop at the Gold Coast for a lunch date with my uncle. Queensland, here I come.

School reunion

It's been 30 years since I completed Year 10 at Bathurst High School: 28 since accomplishing the holy grail; the HSC. I was looking forward to eying my old class mates again. I missed the 10 and 20 year get together as I was living in some far away place; but wasn't really fussed about it either. This time though I was happy to go back in time. Plus I had the means to get there too. Overall I enjoyed my school years; there were some good and fun people there. There were also a couple of bullies that liked to make one's life miserable, but generally the good times out weighed the bad. Playing sport and escaping to the top floor library kept me sane, and I did enjoy some of the engaging teachers and the lessons they delivered. Each student has different memories of school life, and their own perception of others, so there was some trepidation amongst us as we began to gather in the City of Bathurst. (Australia's oldest inland city for that matter!)

Bathurst High School

The weekend festivities were kicked off on the Friday by myself and Gavin, our school captain, with a ride from Eglinton to Perthville on the MTB's. The afternoon was hot, dry and windy so refreshments were required on the return journey at The Church Bar. A handful gathered there  afterwards, but I headed over to stay the night with my Welsh friends.

Gavin and me out on our MTB's

Many more former Bathurst High students gathered for the school tour on the Saturday afternoon, and many more again for the evening 'do' at the Oxford Hotel (a somewhat insalubrious venue back in the 80's). Curiosity was simmering and uneasiness gave way to genuine delight at seeing old faces: most for the first time in 30 years. Some people had not changed in looks at all: others unrecognisable, until you looked closely, at their eyes; they never change.

School tour underway

"This is weird", many voiced. "So strange". But the awkward moment was indeed just that; a moment. The room was soon filled with laughter, wonder and continuous chatter of much reminiscing and catching up. It really was like stepping back in time: we just all looked a little older. People fundamentally remain the same over the years; so it was a great pleasure to reconnect with old friends, even though many years have passed it seemed a little like yesterday. Same sense of humour, same outlook on life, same personality. We all (about 70 of us) decided to not wait another 10 years before catching up again. I look forward to it!

I stayed the night with one of only two girls I remained in touch with since leaving school, who lives up the road from our old family home in Eglinton. It's always a relaxing visit, amongst all the animals.

Off to Newcastle next!

Oberon

It was a beautiful scenic drive from Yass to Oberon, via Goulburn, Taralga and crossing the Abercrombie River. The sky was blue, the fields green, the river the colour of tea. As I approached Oberon, the highest town in the Blue Mountains at 1113 metres elevation, the swishing sound of the pine forest and its sharp scent spoke of familiarity. My brother has lived here for years and I worked at nearby Jenolan Caves for a bit, so have spent much time riding, bushwalking, camping and yabbying in this beautiful area.

After sitting in the car for a few hours, a ride around the town was in order, especially since it was a glorious sunny Spring afternoon. The rhododendrons and azaleas were in full bloom; the vibrant colours so picturesque.

I rode along the Oberon Cycleway, which conveniently ends about 5kms out of town at the first gate to my brother's bush block, located at Hazelgrove, right alongside the old railway station. This site will soon be restored by the Oberon Tarana Heritage Railway group (OTHR), who are preserving the 24.3km long track and its associated stations to one day operate as a heritage tourist railway. The train line runs behind my brother's 50 acre block, past an old eucalypt oil distilling plant and onto Tarana. The railway line first operated in 1923 and the last train completed the journey in 1979. It has one of the steepest gradients of any track in New South Wales and is a very scenic railway as it descends from the Oberon Plateau through wooded hills and farming country to the beautiful Tarana Valley, crossing two creeks and the Fish River. The bush has taken over any infrastructure left, but OTHR is determined and on track to achieve their objectives: they already have two locomotives and other rolling stock in the Oberon yard ready to go when the line restoration is complete. Something to look out for!

 

It's another couple of kms on a rough and steeply undulating dirt road to my brother's actual property, but this is what I love about the mountain bike: it can go anywhere. There were a few trees and limbs down from the huge snowstorm the week before, so the chainsaw will be kept busy in the coming days and months.

Back over on the other side of town is the Lions lookout, presenting glimpses of the surrounding countryside, Oberon dam (the town's water supply: currently at 67% capacity), and a smattering of houses.

A tour of the Oberon Primary School, where my brother is the handy man extraordinaire; a tour of my nephew's engineering workshop, where he is in the final stages of completing his apprenticeship; and a meal at the local pub rounded out my Oberon visit this time. Thanks for a fun visit, and for turning the weather on. I didn't need my thermals; we didn't even light the fire!

Next stop, the Bathurst High School - Class of 1984 - reunion.