THE MURALS OF MENDOORAN AND OTHER SIGHTS (4 - 5 MAY 2016)

The oldest town on the Castlereagh is its claim, and in many respects this seems highly likely,




but Mendooran has another claim to fame, as this shed wall proudly pronounces to the world at large....'The Town of Murals'. Indeed they are abundant, decorating many of the walls of buildings in the main street, where sadly there also seemed to be much evidence of a town in decay.

One would expect that the Mendooran Mural Cafe would pull its weight, and it was clearly once a leader in the town decorations, if not a commercial survivor.












There is no doubt that this business has seen better days.

The same has to be said for the Castlereagh Country Stores enterprise

and the ‘Sticky Beak’ shop (whatever that was)

which has retained its art 











if not its custom.











The same cannot be said for the local tennis club, which is clearly active. Its club rooms have maintained the Mendooran tradition.











Despite the many ‘for sale’ signs or closed doors and open spaces we saw along the main street, there was also evidence that a number of business have continued to survive at least, if not flourish, such as the local garage/service station and its neighbour the hardware store/supermarket.







Opposite these two enterprises, the Mendooran post office continues to operate out of its old wooden building, and next to it, in complete contrast, stands the stone edifice which is the Mechanics Hall with its quaint pseudo ‘art deco’ decoration.







The General Store/cafe and adjoining ‘take-away’ (which only opens for a couple of hours morning and afternoon) must provide reasonably good food and coffee. 

Many of the numerous long haul transports which pass through Mendooran would stop here whilst the drivers sought sustenance for the inner man. In some cases it was the truck itself which needed attention!








Not too many of the truckies could be seen wandering in and out of the Elysian store (home to the Castlereagh Collectibles)....nor anyone else for that matter. Strangely, this shop is one on the market.











The ‘Op Shop’ is not either on the market or any longer an op shop. I suspect the only opportunity here is the building itself










and what was once, I suspect, the thriving business of the local saddler, is also clearly a thing of the past.

But not is all doom and  gloom on the main street in Mendooran. The bowls club is very active both socially and commercially. Apart from the fun and games on the rinks, a good, cheap meal can be had here every Friday evening.










And almost directly opposite the rather tired looking grass of the rinks, is the jewel in the crown of Mendooran Main Street, the Memorial Club (and associated RSL).






It was here that we came across one of Mendooran’s real success stories, one which indicated to us that this town is not all it seems. I’m more than annoyed with myself that when we wandered in here for a look around and a quiet ale, I had not brought the camera. Words will have to suffice.

This is an extraordinary place. Apart from the excellent bar and large, very well equipped kitchen (courtesy of a grant for the equipment and a successful application to be a recipient of  a ‘work for the dole’ project to see to its installation and associated works), there is a huge hall, a smaller room housing incredible war time memorabilia and, in a master stroke, a well equipped kiddies play room.

And all this is the result of the hard work of two of Mendooran’s younger folk who have galvanised local support and rolled up their sleeves. Morgan was on duty behind the bar when we walked in. As soon as he asked ‘maam’ what she would care to drink, and addressed me as ‘sir’ I twigged....this upstanding young fellow had to be ex-military.  And so he is. After twenty years of, first army, and then navy service, he has called it quits and retired to Mendooran where he had his good wife Claire saw that the Memorial Club was an opportunity going begging.

They set to with a will, and now the Club hosts regular Saturday evening meals and much large irregular events, such as weddings, in the hall area. The bar is open each afternoon and from all we could gather, the entire business is going from strength to strength (somewhat limited though that might be in Mendooran).

Liz and I had the time of our lives here. One of the patrons breasting the bar was one of the town’s school teachers...a man of similar years to your scribe, and an absolute fount of local information. He should be. He has taught here for most of his life, and indeed Morgan was once one of his pupils. He was an absolute gentleman...worldly, realistic and most encouraged about what he was seeing around him. It was a real treat to yarn to him.

It was here that we learnt about the skulduggery I mentioned previously in relation to the notice board in the free camp. Those managing the bowls club and the Memorial club have come to the most sensible arrangement that they’ll not complete for custom over the weekend....bowls club Friday and the other on Saturday. And they would advertise this fact on the notice board so that travellers such as ourselves would be appropriately informed of our choices.

But the local publican was and is, from what we could glean, less than happy about this competition. As you will shortly see, his establishment is right on the doorstep of the camping area, and he does not like seeing potential customers walking on past his open doors.  All the notices posted on the camp board relating to what is on offer at the two clubs have been disappearing almost as soon as they are posted. Now there are no direct accusations being levelled........buuuuut!

The ever redoubtable Morgan has overcome this small annoyance.....he now personally tours the camp ground on Saturday afternoons and invites all and sundry to join him and Claire at the Memorial Club. We were sorely tempted to extend our stay by a day to join them, but we were otherwise committed with our booking into Moree, and besides that we were running low on water. Needless to say, we can only hope that this wonderful example of local ‘get up and go’ survives until our next visit when we shall be both delighted and honoured to renew acquaintances.

Almost next door to the Memorial Club is the wide grassed area of the local public BBQ and picnic grounds, and immediately adjoining that, the well maintained courts of the tennis club.

Before we leave the main street and whilst on the subject of the pub, Mendooran has a tale to two pubs, one at either end of the street.

As we came into the town from the south, this large and derelict building greeted us.

A later closer look revealed that this had once been one of the two pubs in town, was converted to a B&B and is now closed and, wait for it......on the market!

It is a different story at the other end of the street. Here, at the T junction of the highway, and the entrance to the free camp, stands the Royal Hotel, which is very much a going concern.

It is a grand looking old pub, on the outer walls of which the ‘mural’ theme of the town 














has been continued.











At least two out of the three are being maintained. This one looks decidedly the worse for wear.








We did check out the front (only) bar on our way back to camp after we left the Memorial Club. I think ‘different’ is an adequate adjective. The publican and his wife were pleasant enough, but I have to say I hadn’t realised the chap a few down from us at the bar was the owner until he stoked the wood fire burning in one corner of the room. I thought he had just come off his farm for a quite one or two before heading home for a shower, a shave and a change into clean clothes.

But this short detour on our way home did produce one of those ‘on the road’ moments.  As we were quietly imbibing, together with about half a dozen very obviously ‘blokes off the land’, in walked a tall, beautifully dressed, single lady of indisputable Asian appearance seeking a room for the night and a safe parking spot for her car. All chatter ceased in an instant. The publican’s daughter very politely offered to escort her to her room whilst asking if she would care for dinner later, an offer eagerly accepted. Even Liz and I had to work hard not to display the impoliteness our stares would have demonstrated. This was one of the most incongruous things we had ever seen. We wandered back to camp mentally revelling in all the possible connotations her arrival and overnight stay in Mendooran could conjure up.

Mendooran is more than just the main street.  In our stroll through the ‘backblocks’ we saw that the town has a fine looking swimming pool

an active child care centre (open two days a week only)

and, at the end of a wide side street, a large public school, the work place of our new found friend from the Club.












The town is sufficiently populated to warrant its own Police Station which is located right next to the entrance to the camp ground










and in the course of our wanderings we did come across more than one home of some substance, a sign, we hoped, that this town would do more than just survive.





In many places along the back streets, just as we had seen along the main drag, there was ample evidence that many had moved on, but on balance we retain the view that Mendooran certainly has a future. Apart from the teachers and other service providers, many who now live here work on local farms and others commute to Dubbo or Gilgandra. With the revival of the Memorial club, the evidence of the activity at the tennis and bowls clubs and so on, it would seem that this town is undergoing a revival which should see it thrive.

Well, that’s about it for our take on Mendooran, a small country town in which we felt right at home and where we really did enjoy our two nights free camping.  The camp ground was all we had hoped it would be, and the town presented as a most interesting enigma, with so much in such obvious decline side by side with clear evidence of real progress and improvement......and then there are the murals.....what a surprise package.