For the first time in our travels I shall not be posting any shots of the scenery between our departure point and that of our arrival. Our camera was becoming increasingly fractious, and its operational inadequacies were compounded by the fact that much of our trip between Junee and Cowra was 'into the sun'. This resulted in a level of glare which rendered all the photos taken virtually useless. Not happy Jan, but life goes on.
Today's relative travelling doddle took us further north-east along the Olympic Highway through the interesting looking towns of Cootamundra and Young (the cherry capital of Australia). After 175 kms we had reached the town of Cowra, where the Olympic Highway ends, and here we made our way along familiar roads to the equally familiar Cowra Van Park.
We had spent a few days in this lovely town in April-May 2013 and retained fond memories of both the town itself and the Cowra Van Park. As is my habit, I'll not be repeating old stories and photographs (I did a pretty comprehensive blog at the time which can be found in the archive), but we did have a different site on this occasion and there were a few changes to the park which demanded a record.
Firstly, the management here has changed hands. The two chaps who are now in charge of affairs could not be more welcoming and obliging. Indeed, as we were setting up on our river view site (we had previously been near the entrance) one of them wandered by just to make sure we were comfortable and organised without being either unreasonably intrusive or condescending....a nice touch.
Things were a little crowded here for the first twenty-four hours....the public holiday Monday (Anzac Day) had attracted quite a few to Cowra, but to our relief many left on Sunday morning, and for one day at least, we had an empty site next to us.
Although this part of the park is very popular and therefore can be somewhat more crowded than other sections, there is a bonus......a large, grassed area overlooking the Lachlan River behind each slab. Liz was more than quick to take advantage of the afternoon sun which streamed in here.
The generally dry conditions which had been experienced throughout NSW (and most of the country for that matter) meant that the river was both muddy and low, much more so than three years ago, but water is water and at least there were no mozzies!
Much to our relief, we found that the majority of the park was still as green,
shady, and well kept as it had been previously.
This is more than evident when the park viewed from the vantage point of the nearby bridge over the river,
or from the other side of the stream (where our van can just be seen mid shot).
The amenities were spotlessly maintained and efficient. And here we came across something we had never struck before at the park BBQ, and what a very clever move this is. The bane of many campers' lives (including ours on more than one occasion) is to make an eager approach to the shared BBQ facilities, sausages and tongs at the ready, only to find a hot plate inches deep in crust and grease. It is a matter of never ending amazement to us both just how utterly grubby some can be.
But here at Cowra they boys have provided the solution (and removed any excuses for grotty BBQ manners) This industrial roll of baking paper sits in pride of place on the side of the grill (together with a large notice advocating its use). A quick tear and spray, and we have a cooking surface which is so easy to clean....just dump the paper!
As is obvious, we did take advantage of this facility on our last evening in camp,
when Chef Pierre's culinary efforts were the subject of little scrutiny from one of the eventual recipients of my efforts. What faith she has....but I have long since mastered the art of charring her chicken snags to the point they could be used as charcoal pens, so I guess she felt happy to slurp away regardless!
We did manage a couple of town wanders, more for the exercise than anything else, when we did rejoice in the fact that our memories had served us well. We were move than happy to be back.
But this time we were hear for a reason other than tourism. Our previous enquiries had indicated that the good folk of the Cowra RSL had things very well planned for Anzac Day, and so it was.
At the instant summons of our 0430 hours alarm we hauled out of bed to face the pre-dawn chill and made our way to the local Cenotaph which is to be found in front of the Cowra Services Club (which also houses the RSL Clubrooms.....the two are not to be confused).
We were far from alone as we joined the crowd under the gaze of the imposing Cowra Hospital building high on the hill.
The Cowra locals turned out in seriously impressive numbers for the dawn service (and yet again I must apologise for the 'colour' of these photos.....they are only just better than no photos at all...even after considerable tweaking!)
At the completion of the service we joined those inclined in the RSL rooms for a quick 'gunfire' breakfast. Whilst this did not include the standard bacon and eggs (sandwiches were on offer instead) I did manage to latch onto a most welcome cup of coffee, liberally dosed with the traditional tot of rum (to keep the morning chill at bay) before we repaired back to the van to prepare for the morning wreath laying, march and the main service.
Well before the appointed hour to line up, again in front of the Services Club, and after much digging through crates under the bed and several visits to the park ironing room (another great idea here), yours truly was ready to join the lads.
By the time we had walked back to the assembly point, things were well in hand....the band was assembling, the police escort was in place and the honour guard, a group of young officer cadets from the Military College, Duntroon, who had driven up from Canberra especially to take part in the day's ceremonies, were all in line.
I duly took my place with all the returned chaps, and we were called to order for the wreath laying ceremony, which to my relief was not nearly as long as the marathon session we had encountered in Geraldton a couple of years previously (eighty five wreaths from memory!)
And then it was time to step off.
The band led the way as would be expected,
followed by the very well drilled honour guard (again as would be expected for officer cadets)
with us less well drilled, but equally committed oldies in close attendance behind them.
Believe it or not (and I strongly suspect those of you who have never done it won't) proper marching is far more demanding than a mere stroll down the street. As a 'once a year' exponent of the many, many hours of drill to which I was subjected during my three year police cadet training, the knowledge remains but the execution is more difficult. I was very glad we were marching downhill!
But we all made it without mishap to the dismissal point near the open spaces of the Riverside Park where the final morning service was to take place.
As the band and the honour guard settled into position,
those who had lined the Cowra Streets began descending on the park, again in significant numbers,
and took up their preferred vantage points on the grass where the service went without a hitch until the last minute. Just before the final dedication and the singing of the National Anthem, one of the band members collapsed!
It was a very warm morning, but unlike the long suffering members of the honour guard who remained at the formal 'at ease' though out the service, all the flute tootlers and drum bangers were seated. There was an almighty scurry as the local doctor (we had seen her only a few weeks ago on the 'State of Our Health' programme) and the on-duty ambulance personnel hastened to assisted the stricken band member. Needless to say the ceremony was eventually cut short, not that I suspect anyone really minded....it was time to get back to the Service Club for a well earned refreshment.
And I am sure I do not have to be overly persuasive to convince you that the frothy offerings from the bar staff were more than welcome.
In no time flat the Duntroon troops had all divested themselves of their uniforms and donned their suits (their other uniform!) to see out the reminder of the day at the bar or to flutter a dollar or three at that other Anzac Day traditional gathering, the 'two-up' game.
Then I had another treat.....the particularly well priced luncheon menu included lambs fry and bacon....yessss! I am banned from cooking this in the van....Liz cannot abide the smell (something I find odd in such an intelligent woman), and this is one of her foibles I am prepared to cater for, or not (!).
So with a particularly well cooked and presented plate of my favourite offal under my now well watered belt, and a terrific yarn to the local Police Volunteer (an ex- NSW copper), it was time to venture out to complete that other Anzac Day traditional activity.....a final pub crawl through the town. Good idea at the time.....all the Cowra pubs were shut for the day....it turned out they could not afford to pay their staff the penalty rates the day attracted.
'Probably just as well' was our rationalisation....and so we settled for the obvious alternative....a few hours of relaxation in the sun behind the van and much cheaper drinks.
Anzac Day 2016 had presented all we had hoped it would. We both reflected on how different it had been from our last, with our mates in Carnarvon on the opposite side of the country, but we were both well satisfied with our decision to make Cowra our destination for 25 April 2016.
Two nights free camping at the tiny town of Mendooran was next on our travelling agenda before we moved on to join our Sydney friends for a seven day jolly in Mudgee.
Firstly, the management here has changed hands. The two chaps who are now in charge of affairs could not be more welcoming and obliging. Indeed, as we were setting up on our river view site (we had previously been near the entrance) one of them wandered by just to make sure we were comfortable and organised without being either unreasonably intrusive or condescending....a nice touch.
Things were a little crowded here for the first twenty-four hours....the public holiday Monday (Anzac Day) had attracted quite a few to Cowra, but to our relief many left on Sunday morning, and for one day at least, we had an empty site next to us.
Although this part of the park is very popular and therefore can be somewhat more crowded than other sections, there is a bonus......a large, grassed area overlooking the Lachlan River behind each slab. Liz was more than quick to take advantage of the afternoon sun which streamed in here.
The generally dry conditions which had been experienced throughout NSW (and most of the country for that matter) meant that the river was both muddy and low, much more so than three years ago, but water is water and at least there were no mozzies!
Much to our relief, we found that the majority of the park was still as green,
shady, and well kept as it had been previously.
This is more than evident when the park viewed from the vantage point of the nearby bridge over the river,
or from the other side of the stream (where our van can just be seen mid shot).
The amenities were spotlessly maintained and efficient. And here we came across something we had never struck before at the park BBQ, and what a very clever move this is. The bane of many campers' lives (including ours on more than one occasion) is to make an eager approach to the shared BBQ facilities, sausages and tongs at the ready, only to find a hot plate inches deep in crust and grease. It is a matter of never ending amazement to us both just how utterly grubby some can be.
But here at Cowra they boys have provided the solution (and removed any excuses for grotty BBQ manners) This industrial roll of baking paper sits in pride of place on the side of the grill (together with a large notice advocating its use). A quick tear and spray, and we have a cooking surface which is so easy to clean....just dump the paper!
As is obvious, we did take advantage of this facility on our last evening in camp,
when Chef Pierre's culinary efforts were the subject of little scrutiny from one of the eventual recipients of my efforts. What faith she has....but I have long since mastered the art of charring her chicken snags to the point they could be used as charcoal pens, so I guess she felt happy to slurp away regardless!
We did manage a couple of town wanders, more for the exercise than anything else, when we did rejoice in the fact that our memories had served us well. We were move than happy to be back.
But this time we were hear for a reason other than tourism. Our previous enquiries had indicated that the good folk of the Cowra RSL had things very well planned for Anzac Day, and so it was.
At the instant summons of our 0430 hours alarm we hauled out of bed to face the pre-dawn chill and made our way to the local Cenotaph which is to be found in front of the Cowra Services Club (which also houses the RSL Clubrooms.....the two are not to be confused).
We were far from alone as we joined the crowd under the gaze of the imposing Cowra Hospital building high on the hill.
The Cowra locals turned out in seriously impressive numbers for the dawn service (and yet again I must apologise for the 'colour' of these photos.....they are only just better than no photos at all...even after considerable tweaking!)
At the completion of the service we joined those inclined in the RSL rooms for a quick 'gunfire' breakfast. Whilst this did not include the standard bacon and eggs (sandwiches were on offer instead) I did manage to latch onto a most welcome cup of coffee, liberally dosed with the traditional tot of rum (to keep the morning chill at bay) before we repaired back to the van to prepare for the morning wreath laying, march and the main service.
Well before the appointed hour to line up, again in front of the Services Club, and after much digging through crates under the bed and several visits to the park ironing room (another great idea here), yours truly was ready to join the lads.
By the time we had walked back to the assembly point, things were well in hand....the band was assembling, the police escort was in place and the honour guard, a group of young officer cadets from the Military College, Duntroon, who had driven up from Canberra especially to take part in the day's ceremonies, were all in line.
I duly took my place with all the returned chaps, and we were called to order for the wreath laying ceremony, which to my relief was not nearly as long as the marathon session we had encountered in Geraldton a couple of years previously (eighty five wreaths from memory!)
And then it was time to step off.
The band led the way as would be expected,
followed by the very well drilled honour guard (again as would be expected for officer cadets)
with us less well drilled, but equally committed oldies in close attendance behind them.
Believe it or not (and I strongly suspect those of you who have never done it won't) proper marching is far more demanding than a mere stroll down the street. As a 'once a year' exponent of the many, many hours of drill to which I was subjected during my three year police cadet training, the knowledge remains but the execution is more difficult. I was very glad we were marching downhill!
But we all made it without mishap to the dismissal point near the open spaces of the Riverside Park where the final morning service was to take place.
As the band and the honour guard settled into position,
those who had lined the Cowra Streets began descending on the park, again in significant numbers,
and took up their preferred vantage points on the grass where the service went without a hitch until the last minute. Just before the final dedication and the singing of the National Anthem, one of the band members collapsed!
It was a very warm morning, but unlike the long suffering members of the honour guard who remained at the formal 'at ease' though out the service, all the flute tootlers and drum bangers were seated. There was an almighty scurry as the local doctor (we had seen her only a few weeks ago on the 'State of Our Health' programme) and the on-duty ambulance personnel hastened to assisted the stricken band member. Needless to say the ceremony was eventually cut short, not that I suspect anyone really minded....it was time to get back to the Service Club for a well earned refreshment.
And I am sure I do not have to be overly persuasive to convince you that the frothy offerings from the bar staff were more than welcome.
In no time flat the Duntroon troops had all divested themselves of their uniforms and donned their suits (their other uniform!) to see out the reminder of the day at the bar or to flutter a dollar or three at that other Anzac Day traditional gathering, the 'two-up' game.
Then I had another treat.....the particularly well priced luncheon menu included lambs fry and bacon....yessss! I am banned from cooking this in the van....Liz cannot abide the smell (something I find odd in such an intelligent woman), and this is one of her foibles I am prepared to cater for, or not (!).
So with a particularly well cooked and presented plate of my favourite offal under my now well watered belt, and a terrific yarn to the local Police Volunteer (an ex- NSW copper), it was time to venture out to complete that other Anzac Day traditional activity.....a final pub crawl through the town. Good idea at the time.....all the Cowra pubs were shut for the day....it turned out they could not afford to pay their staff the penalty rates the day attracted.
'Probably just as well' was our rationalisation....and so we settled for the obvious alternative....a few hours of relaxation in the sun behind the van and much cheaper drinks.
Anzac Day 2016 had presented all we had hoped it would. We both reflected on how different it had been from our last, with our mates in Carnarvon on the opposite side of the country, but we were both well satisfied with our decision to make Cowra our destination for 25 April 2016.
Two nights free camping at the tiny town of Mendooran was next on our travelling agenda before we moved on to join our Sydney friends for a seven day jolly in Mudgee.
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