As you saw in my last, the leaves were finally on the turn in the Ardern's park. We were now much more confident that the Bright area, where the masses of deciduous trees present landscapes which simply glow with colour at this time of the year, would be as we hoped to see it. In fact the formal Bright Autumn Festival was due to kick off on 21 April....fingers crossed.
But before we head east, let's take a tour of our home base, Myrtleford. It's now time to bring to you the surprise of the day......this town is named after a ford over the old Myrtle Creek. So did we visit this historical waterway.....not really, it is now called the Barwidgee Creek.
Let me clarify. The area first came under European settlement in 1837 when a large cattle station here was known as Myrtle Creek. A few years later, as they swarmed across the country to reach the newly discovered gold in the Buckland Valley, the diggers had to cross Myrtle Creek....a ford was built and the rest is history. The town was formally named in 1871 and is now, with a population of just over 3,000, the largest in the Alpine Shire.
And from all we saw, it is thriving. Tobacco production was the mainstay of this entire area for many years. When this was phased out as a result of Government bans on the product, new agricultural ventures were necessary. Now Myrtleford is the centre of a thriving primary production area where wine grapes, hops, walnuts, chestnuts, blueberries, raspberries, cherries, apples, olives and both beef and dairy cattle abound.
Tourism and timber production are also important local industries. Carter Holt Harvey has built a large timber processing plant on the outskirts of Myrtleford and remains a major local employer.
Well, if tourism is important to the town, we visitors had better tour! We did so on foot....let me share the journey.
As we walked out of our park, one glance towards Mount Buffalo confirmed that this was to be another day marred by smoke....there was no sign of the mountain over the trees at the curve in the highway. Many of the photos we later took show the haze.
A well maintained walkway parallels the Great Alpine Road from this end of town into the CBD area. This is what it looked like during our first visit, but now,
autumn colour at last........
right along the track.
Our mission this morning was twofold...to photograph the town and the colours of autumn. The town abounds with trees which provide colourful displays. Many appear almost incidentally in the town shots, others I have photographed specifically.
As the path neared its end and curved away from the highway to join a town backstreet, the smoke haze over Reform Hill was all too apparent, but fortunately this was not to be the worst day we had experienced.
To call some of the 'surburban' streets of Myrtleford 'back streets' is, in many cases, a misnomer....they are more grand avenues of stately trees.
At this point I must note another problem we were experiencing....our camera was beginning to show signs of giving up the ghost. You may note a slightly pinkish tinge in some of the clouds. This was the harbinger of the camera's complete failure, but we were not able to replace it until we got to Mudgee later in the month, so for now it's an artistic apology and on with the show.
And on with our ramble around this delightful town. Apart from standing in their full coloured grandeur, many of the trees were, by now, beginning to drop their leaves as they had done over this typical small wooden town cottage.
In other cases these tiny individual splashes of colour were clinging on for grim death.
By now our jaunt had brought us to an intersection where, in one direction, we could see over the green triangle which is Curdy Park, one of several green and open spaces in Myrtleford,
and in another the curving side street which would have taken us into the CBD.
But we were not quite ready to do this yet. A lass we had met in the Buffalo Pub the previous evening had waxed lyrical about the the 'bee-stings' of the Myrtelford bakery. Liz was on a mission to confirm this for herself.
Left turn into Standish Street, and past the Railway Hotel we walked.
Liz's target building was but a few doors down the street in a small cluster of retail outlets.
Here she dutifully queued with a surprising number of locals who jostled their way in and out with what amount to almost desperate determination, clutching their daily bread and other goodies.
In the meantime I sauntered down to the cafe area to marvel at the very colourful and informative map of Myrtleford which adorned one of the walls, a chart which included a 'you are here' red dot to provide perspective for those gazing over the rims of their coffee cups.
In short order Liz emerged victorious, her prize firmly ensconced in a brown paper bag. And the verdict after it was later demolished (and not shared!)....very nice thank you....."lovely toasted almonds". "I'm very pleased for you, Lizzie".
From the bakery we continued our jaunt south-west along Standish Street,
where more colour was evident, this time in the form of beds of begonias.
By now we were on the cusp of arriving in the 'sharp end of town', the intersection of Standish and Clyde Streets (see what I mean about 'indcidental colour'!)
where one corner of the intersection is dominated by one of Myrtleford's larger buildings, the imaginatively named Myrtleford Hotel.
On the opposite side of the road we find Rubys Cafe, just one of many, many cafes, restaurants and (3) pizza places all vying for the tourist trade.
It is here that the town streets can become a little confusing, particular for the uninitiated. Standish Street continues on to intersect with the main road through the town, the Great Alpine Road, lined on both sides with business and eating houses.
Clyde Street runs off at an angle only to join the highway some distance off. The charming church building seen here stands on a triangle of land which results (hopefully this will all become clearer shortly).
We became quite familiar with this section of town....here we find the large local Coles supermarket
and, a short distance further down the street, the long low building which housed our favourite Myrtleford watering hole, the Buffalo Hotel.
On the other side of Clyde Street, just beyond the church building, is another of Myrtleford's public park areas
where I could not resist a shot of this tiny flame tree. What is lacked in arboreal stature, it made up for with colour.
At the end of this open space we find the rather sprawling building which is home to the Court House and the Post Office and beyond that,
at the apex of the triangle, (shown here looking back along both Clyde Street....to the right....and the Great Alpine Road to the left) Myrtleford's tribute to those who have served.
In addition to the general memorial
this small park area is home to the bronze statue of one of the town's most famous sons of WW1, Albert (Alby) Lowerson VC.
I'll let the plaque tell the story.
What this does not reveal is that the wound Alby sustained during this assault was not his first.
Before this heroic storming of Mont St Quentin (it was a turning point in the war) by the Australians, including Myrtleford's Alby, he had been engaged in many of the Western Front's more bloody engagements.....The Somme, Pozieres, and Mouquet Farm, and had been wounded three times previously. But this one did for him as far as active service was concerned.
Alby returned to Myrtleford after the war and took up farming like his father before him. When WW2 broke out, his wounds prevented him from re-enlisting, but his experience was put to good use at home in his role as a training sergeant. In what I find a very sad twist of fate, Alby actually died immediately after the war ended, on 15 December 1945.......of leukaemia. He was only 49 years old. What an inglorious end for such a warrior.
Opposite this wonderful tribute to a very brave man, on the far side of the main highway, is another park and another tribute to the endeavours of local folk.
In the expanses of Jubilee Park stands this reminder of what the district owes to the original tobacco farmers.
Many aspects of the production of this crop are depicted in the photographs displayed around the bottom, including this of the planting
and this of drying kilns, many of which can still be seen in the area, particularly along the Ovens Valley Road between Myrtleford and Bright.
From the Memorial Park triangle, the main highway through town stretches off towards our caravan park (just less than a kilometre distant)
past yet more of Myrtelford's shopping precinct where I did find a couple of local commercial gems.
The Red Ramia Trading company and associated Cafe Fez invite one to 'Experience the unexpected'.
This is a very good way of putting it. Apart from this oddest of cafes, in which the morning patrons were squeezed in amongst various exotic looking ornaments,
the wares on sale here could best be described as 'different', to say the least. This is but a small sample. 'Unexpected' indeed (in Myrtleford)
Extraordinarily, this was not the only example of goods from the orient on sale here. In one of the side streets off the main highway we came across the very thing no home should be without.....an intricately metal plated Chinese cart, ostensibly of some age. Whatever next?
Back to main street. Almost next door to the oriental oddity which is the Red Ramia and the Fez Cafe, the Jesse James cafe stands in stark contrast,
complete with its wall mural.
What earthly connection could this infamous figure of the American wild west have to do with Myrtleford? My curiosity finally got the better of me. In response to my enquiry, the couple behind the counter chuckled most good naturedly as they explained that name of the cafe had nothing to do with the 'good ole US of A'...its original owner was christened 'Jesse James'. He modestly named his cafe after himself and the name has been retained. The things one learns with a simple question!
Let me conclude this first ramble around Myrtleford with the outcome of another question I asked of one of the locals. Not too far from our park, on the main highway through town, we had come across this small cottage
to which my attention had first been drawn by this amusing and entirely self-explanatory sign standing next to the driveway.
On several occasions we had stopped to chat to the old chap who was invariably sunning himself on his front porch, and it was he who solved another Myrtleford mystery for me.
In a nearly paddock we had noticed some of the oddest sheep we had ever seen....in our ignorance they appeared to have been only half shorn, and not well at that. What ever is going on?
I figured the old bloke would know the answer. Again the response to my query was accompanied by a knowing chuckle.....this is not a case of woeful shearing....these sheep, grown only for meat, shed their fleeces naturally, just as a bird moults.
A little later I was able to capture a shot of three of these animals most obliging standing together, each demonstrating a different phase in the process, from completely covered to entirely denuded of wool.
I never did discover precisely what breed they are (I did find out that there are several which have this characteristic) but I have to say that those midway through their shedding look most undignified.....I could swear this motley lass was looking embarrassed!
With the mystery of the daggy fleece solved, we made our way back to camp.....a little footsore but much the wiser. In my next we shall see a bit more of the town, take in more autumn colour, visit three of Myrtleford's well known tourist attractions, and again get our lips around a tasting glass.
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