As we had been driving around Beechworth and beyond, we had passed several hops farms. Quite a number of those who were originally growing tobacco along the Ovens Valley replaced this with hops when the tobacco industry was phased out some years ago.
And then, on one of our jaunts around Beechworth town we spotted this poster. This looks promising, we thought. When's it on? March 19th....splendid, we'll still be here. We now knew what we would be doing on that Saturday afternoon.
This is only the second of these festivals to be held in Beechworth. We had no idea what to expect, but that can be half the fun of fronting up. No matter what occurred, this would be a first for us.
Since arriving in Beechworth we had been surprised to learn just how many small, boutique breweries operate here in the Victorian high country.
Several of these got together for the Hops Festival, setting up their stands in what is normally the car park of the Beechworth Bridge Road brewery.
We did not come in this way, but rather gained entry along the arcade off Ford Street which leads to the brewery.
Here, along one of the walls, the clever folk from Bridge Road have mounted a series of blackboards by which they obviously hope to educate the great unwashed
in all the critical aspects of beer production
and appreciation before glasses are raised to lips.
So now no-one breasting the tasting bar has an excuse for being anything but an expert (or at least put on a good show), albeit that this wisdom may very well be extremely newly acquired.
As we made our way through the arcade I couldn't help but notice a really quaint series of deteriorating paintings on the opposite wall (of which this is but one). To my great annoyance, I was completely unable to find out what these were all about. There has to be a story here!
But on to the business at hand....beer, glorious beer. The arcade leads down to the brewery buildings which occupy the entire block behind Ford Street.
A large al fresco dining area
is complemented by a more formal indoor setting
where, in the true tradition of boutique breweries, the equipment used in the production of the end product is on full display.
I am sure we could have spent a number of entertaining hours here, but for today this was not our final destination.....we dutifully followed the arrow.
As is our want, we had arrived early, and finding a table was no problem. These had been very cleverly decorated with a simple hessian mat, hops stalks and flowers and tiny open bags of grain which flowed out on to the table surface....utterly in keeping with the occasion.
Four or five 'mountain brewers' had set up their stalls, some of which were larger
than others. Those tippling could either imbibe in standard glass quantities or adopt an alternative course. To my delight, each stall also served smallish 'tasting' glasses at $2.00 a pop, which means that one can have a serious liquid graze without breaking either the bank or any bones on the way home.
Sensibly, a number of food stalls catered for the other 'inner man'. This lass served the biggest and 'runniest' toasted cheese sandwiches I have ever seen. Were it not for the fact I had already lined my stomach with one of my favourite snacks from another stall, a delectable grilled bratwurst with cabbage and onion in a large, fresh crunchy roll, I would have beaten a willing path to her door.
And what's a festival of any sort without a troubadour
and ice cream for the kids.
By the time we had savoured all that we wanted, the crowd was gathering. We left them to it, having by now become much the wiser as to the range of brews on offer in this area and the satisfaction that we had enjoyed a great afternoon.
We weren't the only ones having a good time! Just as we were about to leave, in waltzed a group of blokes in obvious high spirits. "Lizzy, look at that odd looking girl they've got in tow!" And then the penny dropped (thank goodness I'd confined my tippling to the tasting glasses!)...the Groom-To-Be and his entourage were all set for a great bucks' afternoon.
This had been a delightful 'taste of the high country', and, on the advice of the Vogts, we had another to achieve.....lunch at the nearby Stanley Hotel.
Stanley is a tiny mountain village high on a ridge on a narrow road which runs between Beechworth and Myrtleford. It is only about 15 kms from Beechworth, but we actually called in here on our way back from a cruise to Yackandanda and Myrtleford. (I'll have more to say about 'Yak' later)
As we approached the township and came out of the dense mountain forest, we found ourselves in orchard country. Some new season, crisp apples seemed like a very good idea. A stop at the very pretty Snowline Fruits orchard proved productive. We left laden with a bag of newly picked Fujis which did not disappoint.
Our pre mid-day arrival at the Stanley pub proved fortuitous. We had not made a booking...in fact had not even planned to come through this way initially.
Liz confirmed that the menu would suit our tastes
and we duly wandered in to the bar. "A table for two, sir. Do you have a booking?" "Well, no I'm afraid we don't". I had already spotted all the 'reserved' signs which dominated the small dining room, but we were in luck. There was one table left. We duly pounced, took up our eating irons and prepared to defend our patch against all comers.
This renovated old pub really works. It is small, has very limited hours, and, as I said earlier, if we had arrived ten minutes later we would not have been able to dine here (all these empty chairs were occupied by the time we had finished)
For those wishing to commune more with nature whilst munching, the beer garden area is well set up, and even on this rather crisp afternoon, the tables were well patronised by 1230 hours.
I was more than impressed by the way in which a pizza oven had been incorporated into the renovations, but it turns out this was apparently 'a good idea at the time'. The current proprietor does not use it...a shame, we thought.
They may not do pizzas here at the Stanley pub, but they do plate up a fine feed of flathead, coated in one of the best batters we have sampled. A simple, sensible salad, an excellent home made tartare, good crisp chips and lashings of lemon....perfect.
So why the sour face? Guess who was the designated driver today. "I hope you're enjoying your glasses of bubbles, Lizzie...you owe me!!"
The Stanley pub had been well worth a visit. Soup and toasted sandwich was all that was needed from the Marshies' galley that evening.
The one thing we had been promising ourselves to do since our arrival was to don our walking shoes and circumnavigate Lake Sambell via the walking path.
On a morning which had dawned as clear as the peal of a cathedral bell, we were off out through the top end of our park and on to the walking trail.
We had gone no further than a few metres into the scrub when I heard the tell-tale call of a crimson rosella. For such a brightly coloured bird they can often blend into the foliage to the point they can be very difficult to spot....but not this one.
The one real problem even when they can be seen is that they can be very flighty (pun intended). With our small basic camera, distance photography is not always entirely successful...but even despite the blurring I hope you can appreciate the spectacular colours for what they are.
Lake Sambell is the result of a major mining operation carried out here after the alluvial gold ran out in the creeks around Beechworth. The clay banks on the edge of the lake in the middle distance were a result of a mining technique called sluicing,
A nearby plaque explains the process and the result.
The path on this side of the lake presented the odd challenge or two, but nothing we could not manage with relative ease.
From a position at the top of the clay banks
we could see across the lake to what is know as Sandy Beach, a designated swimming area with adjacent playgrounds, BBQs, picnic tables and toilets.
After negotiation a few more twists and turns
the pathway finally brought us to the southern end of the lake.
from where we could look back along its length to the far shore and the edge of our caravan park.From this point on the walk was far more benign. We made our way across the vehicle causeway, which has recently been modified to provide for better flood management,
and on down to a short boardwalk
which took us on to the small boat launching ramp
and past Sandy Beach.
Here, a few of the local feathered residents were enjoying a 'school holiday' treat.
From this point the path meanders back to the far end of the lake and eventually comes out on to Peach Drive. On this occasion we took the 'back' way home, along another pathway
which skirts the reed beds and ponds of the local storm water remediation project
and eventually brought us to the small swing bridge
which took us across the narrow brook (at this time of the year) that parallels Peach Drive for some distance.
Whilst on this occasion we chose the route across the causeway from the far end of the lake, another alternative we used on several occasions when walking back from town took us past the old Chinese garden area
and on through this delightful avenue of shade trees
which continues for some distance. In all we had three completely different alternative routes for the fifteen to twenty minute walk into the CBD. What a treat this was.
Let me wind up our Beechworth experience with three more local significant buildings. In a small side street near the upper end of Ford Street we saw the top of the roof of what was obviously a building of some substance poking over the lush stand of trees which surround it. Curiosity demanded a better look.
No matter what I did this was the best shot of this magnificent building I could manage,
but fortunately the website of what is now a commercial venture came to the rescue. This is Beechworth's Old Priory, originally built to house priests and nuns of the Catholic community, but now the temporary home to visitors who choose this as their tourist accommodation.
The local primary school in housed in a building of similar grandeur, and again, I had real difficulty in capturing the entire length of this magnificent old red brick building in one photograph but hopefully this give you some idea of what a splendid piece of 19thC architecture this is.
And lastly, an incredible building which harbours a gloomy tale, but one which must be told, if for no other reason than to show the lengths to which the beneficent burghers of Beechworth were prepared to go to provide public facilities whilst the town was awash with gold.
For some reason we did not actually visit this extraordinary place, so I've had to rely on my old friend the Internet for the photos.
This is a photo of this incredible building circa approx. 1867, the year it was completed. A grand hotel, government offices perhaps? No, this is the Beechworth Lunatic Asylum! At the time it was completed it was one of the three largest in Victoria (why does that come as no surprise to learn) and it remained operational until 1995.
Apart from the impressively imposing nature of its architecture,
this facility was also known for the fascinating design of its outer retaining walls, known universally (quite cruelly in my view) as 'Ha Ha' walls. These present to the outside world as a relatively low and unimposing structure,
but on the inner 'operational' side, a large ditch is dug to the base of the wall, making it extremely difficult to scale from that side.
Interestingly, from a parochial 'Adelaide' perspective, walls of a similar design to this were used in sections around the now defunct Glenside mental hospital complex. As for Beechworth's asylum, it, like most facilities of its day, was the place of countless horrors and injustices (I'll not bore you with the list of means by which unfortunates of the time could find themselves behind these walls). In what I find to be a somewhat distasteful and exploitative reflection on its past, this magnificent building is now the home to 'ghost tours' for those who wishing to challenge their courage or credibility.
And so, on that somewhat sombre note we farewell historic Beechworth. Both the town and the Lake Sambell caravan park with live long in our memories. For now its off to Porepunkah for Easter....a period we were approaching with some trepidation. Sadly, how right we were!
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