ANOTHER OF THOSE INFURIATING BLOG CONTRETEMPS (1 JUNE 2020)

Who said the visitations of 'Murphy' were confined to those living in a caravan? 

As the first icy blasts of the changing season fling themselves in from the Southern Ocean, whistling around our new home hurling rain and sleet at our recently acquired ramparts, it has indeed become 'the winter of my discontent'!

After four hectic weeks of the 'lucky dip' of unpacking crates and cartons which have remained sealed for nearly ten years, rushing hither and yon buying white goods, beds, tables and all sorts of paraphernalia necessary for a halfway comfortable domestic existence (whilst still awaiting new built in robes, a kitchen dresser, casual dining and lounge furniture, a TV table and our new bar) and setting up a temporary office from which I can again electronically correspond with the world at large, disaster has struck.

For the past four days I have been attempting to revisit our travelling tales with the ambition to spend at least every second morning henceforth 'catching up'. This process began, as it always does, with a photo cull and selection. 

I was a coiled spring.....my fingers flew over the keyboard with the first few paragraphs of text. And, as has ever been the case, I set about loading relevant photos.

That, my many friends, is where the whole process came to a shuddering halt. For some reasons which obviously remains completely beyond me, each photo frame included the dreaded error exclamation mark and the fateful words 'upload failed: server rejected'. 

To make matters infinitely worse, this fateful message is delivered in bold print.....as if I didn't bloody well know that the system was failing me!

I did try a few alternative copy and paste methods but the rejection was continual and absolute. After hours of stubborn resistance the penny bearing the title 'Rational' finally clattered to the floor.....GIVE UP!

So dear friends, I have decided to temporarily cut my considerable key board losses and get on with the myriad of other domestic tasks which taunt me each morning from a very long list on the fridge, a list which now includes 'find a local computer whiz!

As MacArthur vowed, "I shall return", but do not press me for a date!

I do find it somewhat disconcertingly eerie that this computer contretemps has so neatly coincided with the time at which our caravan wheels have ceased their continual turning......an omen perchance? Time will tell.

OFF TO THE SUNSHINE COAST - CALOUNDRA - PART 1 (UN REUNION) (19 OCTOBER - 24 OCTOBER 2019)

Our sojourn in Maryborough proved to be not only a convenient stop-over point in our push south from Kurrimine Beach to Caloundra, but one which was both fascinating and instructive (well, as far as Queensland's developmental history goes....and as you all know by now I'm a sucker for a spot of history!).

But now it was time for some fun and games. 

Caloundra, our favourite Sunshine Coast town, was to be the venue for the next of the bi-annual UNOPAA (United Nations and Overseas Police Association of Australia) reunions to which Liz and I have been going for the past twelve years or so (together that is....I've been showing up at them since the mid 80's).. 

As the title of the organization to which I have belonged for many years suggests, it is one which, broadly speaking, initially embraced any member of an Australian Police Force who has served abroad with the UN. More latterly our arms are figuratively open to those who have served with any other internationally recognized peace keeping or policing mission, such as, for example, the mission to support the reinstatement of law and order in the Solomon Islands some time ago.

Numerically our members are predominately those who have served in either Cyprus or East Timor, but many other smaller missions are represented in our membership, as the array of various medals worn on the more formal occasions indicate. It's an interesting bunch of folk.

Caloundra was the venue for a similar event ten years previously, when the Mobile Marshies were not quite so mobile, but we did make this town the destination for the first long road trip in our little Coromal van. We had a ball at that extremely well organized reunion and soon came to recognize Caloundra as one of the best places in which we had stayed, an impression which was reinforced on a latter visit. 

We have been looking forward to this event ever since it was been announced, and were keen to see just how the Caloundra we remembered may have changed. We had been told that it had grown out of sight over the past decade......that was something we were not too keen to hear, but soon all would be revealed.

At this point I must beg your collective patience for what will, I am sure, be a missive of some self indulgence. This one is for our personal 'Book of Memories' as much as anything.

As we turned left off  the Bruce Highway and traversed the ten kilometres or so east to the coast, it soon became evident that we had not been misinformed. The entire vista to the north was one of massive housing developments and major works in progress, and the traffic on the feeder roads was daunting in its density. We drove on just hoping that the central part of town and the Golden Beach areas we knew so well had not changed as much as the outlying areas clearly had.

The Caloundra 'Oaks Resort' had been selected as the reunion 'HQ'. Convenience prompted us to book into the newly renovated and expanded (and damned expensive) Big 4 Caloundra Holiday Park.




Any time the name of a park includes the word 'holiday' we know we are in trouble....bouncy castles, play grounds, crowded swimming pools and herds of shrieking children....all of which come at a cost in more ways than mere money!! 




With its very flash BBQ area and nearby huge pool














a large kiddies' playground on the expansive lawns which abut the calm waters and low tide sand flats of the Pumistone Passage, this is the type of park in which we would never normally stay, but it was a mere five minute walk from The Oaks. For this coming week, convenience won out.

As it was we were not the only attendees who made this their choice of accommodation for the event. Our immediate neighbour was a chap with whom I had served in Cyprus, and there were several others of us dotted throughout the park. All were more than chuffed to see our UN Flag fluttering high above our van.

Whilst the formal programme did not begin until the Monday evening, the indefatigable couple who organized this event (as they had the last), Julie and John Walker (we were to catch up with them on many occasions later) had arranged a Sunday evening trip to nearby Palmwoods, a small town high in the hills of the Sunny Coast hinterland.

Here sits Ricks Garage, for many years the town vehicle repair shop. 

How things have changed. As the relevant website trumpets, now Ricks is a venue for "milkshakes & super-sized burgers in an upbeat space with old-school decor & a large beer garden". And so it is (thanks to 'flickr' for this shot).



About 80 of us piled into buses and descended (actually that should read 'ascended') on Ricks en mass, keen to enjoy our first 'catch up' with many we had not seen since Hobart two years ago. This venue prides itself on fast service, but it did occur to me that a horde like ours would severely challenge the kitchen staff (who had been kept on specially for our visit I might add....but with these numbers about to dig deeply into their holiday wallets and purses, why would you not?).

The quirky downstairs bar was not to be our gathering place for this event. Whilst we did queue and order here, 












we were politely shepherded to the upstairs level where we spread out 

across the tables reserved for our group. 








Liz and I shared ours with one of our SA colleagues and his lady and two very good friends from Perth. True to Ricks boast, the huge burgers arrived at warp speed. The excellent wine and beer selection was far from exorbitantly priced. Needless to say by the time we were herded back onto the buses, we were well and truly in reunion mode (and none of us had gone any where near the premium whiskey bar!).

What a grand start this had been. 






The following evening saw us all gathered in the tropical gardens of The Oaks for the welcoming dinner. The programme was now underway in earnest,

one in which the next major organized event was a boat cruise up and down the canals of nearby Moolooaba.

None of the photos we took come anywhere close to demonstrating the extraordinary complex of canals and housing density which are now a firmly fixed part of Mooloolaba life, so I've included this shot from 'Google Earth' to set the scene. This is a very busy part of suburban Australia. The sleepy coastal holiday towns of the Sunshine Coast of yesteryear are now consigned to history forever.

We were about to ply the waters of the main channel which can be seen just below the highlight dot. 'Whale One' lay ready at the end of one of the marina fingers to shortly move to the landing dock and welcome us aboard.

For the next three hours we initially cruised up and back along the main channel, where the tightly moored vessels of the local commercial prawn fishing fleet,










and the protective rock wall, with Mooloolaba high rise in the background, slipped by our bows 















until we reached our 'go about' point at the channel mouth where our backdrop was now the distant peak of one of the spectacular Glasshouse Mountains. 












Our skipper then took us into some of the many canals off the main channel where the abutting land is crammed with homes, some magnificent older mansions

others obviously of a much later build.

Waterfront apartments loomed over the massed masts of yachts of all shapes and sizes

and the tourist marina and docks area was a constant hive of activity.












Unlike so many of these types of cruise, where the delights of the advertised luncheon menu are not matched by either quality or quantity, the ever busy crew of 'Whale One' provided us with a seemingly endless supply of hot and cold food, much of it coming directly from the large rear deck BBQ where a couple of the lads beavered away throughout out trip. The cheerful bar staff were equally busy.....more than one of us did not see too much of the scenery on the return bus trip back to Caloundra! 

Interspersed throughout the various formal events there was plenty of free time to enjoy contingent gatherings and informal meals with other groups of old friends. This is when those of us from the Southern States were again reminded of the boon provided by the free courtesy buses to the local service clubs. The huge nearby Caloundra RSL got a particular workout!

Towards the latter end of the programme events, the fun and frolic gave way to the more serious aspect of our gathering.

  

The hilly area of Caloundra's Kings Beach was the venue for the formal march and church service. Fortunately the route we were soon to slog was not nearly as steep as this section of the same road....but what views there are on offer here in this part of town!



There are some decided advantages in having an event organizer who retired as a very senior ranking Commissioned Officer. Our street march was a grand affair.

A motor cycle police escort led the way




















followed by the formal Colour Party, a group of serving Queensland Police members, most of whom have a military background.....and believe me it showed....their drill was absolutely first class,
















as was that of the members of the Queensland Police Pipes and Drums which followed.













With the police chopper clattering overhead, and the warm tropical morning air filled with the skirl of the pipes and the beat of the drums,













even us old stagers were inspired to muster up the energy to march in reasonably good order
















even when it came to the ascent up the rather challenging incline towards the end of our short street gallop, a slope to which I had not been looking forward for good reason. If you peer closely at this photo, you will note that there is a bloke on the left of the rear rank pushing a wheel chair.....yep, yours truly!










One of my great SA friends is not in the best of health. Geoff has been a real stalwart of our association over many years as its Secretary/Treasurer and it was my great privilege and pleasure to enable him to share the march with us, but that last hill was certainly steeper than it looked! 


Once we had all regained our collective breaths (well, me in particular), Our Lady of the Rosary Church began to fill in readiness for the formal service, one which was conducted with impressive pomp and ceremony.

 





With the pews at capacity we all stood as the Colour Party, led by the UN flag bearer, slow marched across the gleaming wooden floor 









and took up station at the front of the church before each flag pole was arrayed in special holders on each side of the pulpit.













Following a warm welcome from the parish priest, prayers and a hymn or two, the Queensland Police Chaplin delivered a very thoughtful and moving main address 












followed by a brief response from our Association President.

















A lovely touch came in the form of the involvement of a group of Caloundra schoolchildren before a final hymn, prayers, and the benediction brought the service to it conclusion.

With the formal withdrawal of the Colour Party 
















it was time to repair outdoors yet again, this time to be feted by the women of the Caloundra CWA. All manner of pastries, sandwiches, cakes and other goodies just kept coming and coming and coming.










What a spectacular spread this was, as only the women of this remarkable group can manage to do with deceptive ease, not only here, but at functions all over the Australia.









And of course, apart from all the chat, this was the time for a few keepsake group photos (a few usual suspects here!). 









With the formal dinner on this evening's horizon, the clever ones spent a very quiet afternoon before we all gathered again at The Oaks for transport to the Caloundra Power Boat Club on the edge of the Pumistone Passage at nearby Golden Beach.

As the low clouds in the distance were flushed pink by the setting sun and a balmy breeze drifted in across the water rustling softly through the surrounding palms, we all gathered on the upper deck of this large and well run club for pre-dinner drinks,







where yet again there was the opportunity to record for posterity the fact that even those of us who fall into the category of 'Trailer Trash' can, when the occasion demands, dive deeply into the recesses of our clothes lockers and lift our dress standards to rise to meet it.







It was no surprise to discover that the organizing committee here in Caloundra had gone to no end of trouble to see to it that the tables were dressed in spectacular manner, including, on this occasion, hand crafted miniature UN Blue Berets atop gilded wooden posts at each place setting. The hours spent in making these must have been incredible.









The first class wine list was a fitting accompaniment to the excellence of the kitchen, the service was faultless and those who took to the podium in front of the flag bedecked stage for the obligatory speeches were entertaining and, for the most part, thoughtfully brief.









The evening concluded with a most deserved vote of thanks to the tireless Walkers and their band of equally willing helpers.









As they had done ten years ago, Julie and John and their merry band of assistants had gone that extra mile to ensure that this reunion would remain one to hold a favoured place in our individual and collective memories for years to come. 

This had been a truly wonderful five days, and as all said their fond farewells, packed and departed, we did the same, but we did not travel far, about three kilometres in all, to the caravan park at Golden Beach.

Our Caloundra visit 2019 had much further to run. 

A TRIP AROUND TOWN - MARYBOROUGH - PART 3 (OLD BUILDINGS, PUBS, MURALS AND MORE) (15 - 18 OCTOBER 2019)

Well, dear readers, I did forecast a break, but frankly I did not plan that it would be as long as it has been before I would be back at the keyboard again. 

But we are now in our new house, sitting amidst what I would describe as 'organized chaos' which, believe me, is a far cry from the absolute bedlam which immediately followed the arrival of all our our worldly goods from the storage shed in which they have been languishing for the past 10 years or so. Our removalist laid on his largest truck (and it is a biggie)....it only just held it all!

Notwithstanding the never-ending stream of crates, chests, boxes and furniture items which poured out of the 'furniture tardis' in the driveway, our 'stuff' did not include beds and white goods (all previously sold or dumped), so needless to say, once we at least had the remainder of our furniture and chattels in some sort of order, we then spent many ensuing days prowling around various stores acquiring all else which was needed to resume a reasonably practical domestic existence.  

Decisions, decisions, decisions.....size, style, colour, efficiency, cost......I had forgotten just how much fun all this could be. It was bloody exhausting.

But we are now 'in' so to speak. Fifteen large boxes still stand unopened in the shed (an adult lucky dip for the coming rainy days!), additional necessary built in cupboards are on the drawing board, bedroom furniture is on order, and our minds are constantly spinning around plans for additional new furniture and assorted odds and ends to make this 'our home', but at least we are now functional and it is high time to get back 'on the road' and finalize our 2019 adventures.

So, back to the last of Maryborough, that Queensland town of real history and contrasts. 

Today's Maryborough is something of a service hub for the surrounding sugar, grazing and timber industries which thrive throughout the district. It is also a major stop-over point for many tourists making their way up to tropical far north Queensland and back again. At last we had joined that throng rather than merely scooting through.

Despite some of the grand and impressive buildings which are a reflection of Maryborough's rich and important place in Queensland's history, much of the town has sadly fallen on hard times. 

It was obvious to us that the same could be said for many of its current inhabitants, and after roaming the streets for a few days we were not as surprised as we may have otherwise been to later hear nicknames like 'Scaryborough' and 'Marry-me-brother' bandied about by Queenslanders who lived elsewhere (and took obvious delight in looking down their 'postcode snouts').

But notwithstanding the fact that observations which have driven such derogatory scorn are not hard to find, we were firmly focused on the best of what this town has to offer, and it is plenty.

There is no doubt that some of Maryborough's best buildings are on a par with anything to be found in Queensland. For obvious reasons many of these are located in the old port precinct. Let me share a few examples with you.

The courthouse, circa 1877, is a standout. Facing onto Richmond Street, 

the side of this magnificent building extends along part of the southern boundary of Queens Park. Its style, cost and grandeur remain a real reminder of the wealth of this town once gold had been discovered at nearby Gympie. As we had learnt earlier, Maryborough and Charters Towers have a lot in common when it comes to a public 'flouting' of gold driven wealth.

Almost opposite the grand courthouse a building of a completely different style and construction played an equally if not more important part in the development of this town. The Maryborough Customs House,

with its imposing 'crest of authority' still glaring down on Richmond Street, 

rose on this site in 1889 and became the model for similar facilities in other Queensland ports. It replaced the original building which was severely damaged by the massive flood of 1893. The rambling red brick offices and the associated residence occupy a large area on the corner of Richmond and Wharf Streets. 

Integral to the collection of customs and excise is another critical piece of infrastructure.....the bond store, and that which served Maryborough for may years can, logically enough, be found on nearby Wharf Street within spitting distance of the Customs House.


Now I don't know if there happened to be a 'special' on red bricks at the time these two important public buildings were erected, or whether this was considered a material which exuded authority, but the red brick walls of both these buildings are unique in the area. 

I have already mentioned another significant building in this precinct, one which housed the Bank of New South Wales, the vaults of which held the staggering amounts of gold from the Gympie fields in the late 1800's prior to its shipment out of the nearby port.  

Now home to the Maryborough Heritage Centre (and thanks to the 'Fraser Coast' website for this photo) this gracious old building forms a significant part of the port precinct history trail.

This leads me to another mea culpa. 

The Maryborough tourist authorities have developed a series of 'themed walks' around the town. One of these documents a trail which takes one past fifty one historical or important buildings. Another identifies buildings and museums associated with the area's quite rich military history. And a third, my favourite (surprise!), unashamedly invites visitors to embark on a pub crawl of the many interesting watering holes to be found here.

Knowing that we were about to take up a house sitting job for a fortnight in nearby Howard, we were a little cavalier in our approach to absorbing all that Maryborough had to offer. "We'll save some of this for day trips later".......that was Plan 'A'. I suspect I need not comment that this did not eventuate, for a number of reasons I'll explain later. 

The upshot is that I can bring you but a sample of what is to be found here.....but that may be just as well.....my personal history bug is sitting on my shoulder whispering away!

The port area does not have grand old buildings all to itself. The Maryborough Town Hall, with its lovely surrounding gardens, 

and the nearby Post Office building both speak to the former wealth and glory of this town.

As I completed the preview of this missive, I saw that at this point the left margin had, for some reason which is utterly beyond either my comprehension as to why, or, more importantly, my ability to easily fix it, had altered. After some time spent on reparation, clearly unsuccessful, I have decided to let it be (apart from this proffered explanation and apology that is).

For those in need of some spiritual comfort, there is no shortage of places of worship, and like a number of the commercial and public authority buildings of Maryborough, many of its churches reflect the glory days.

We did see a number of these in passing, but because of the failed Plan A I have had to rely on others to bring you a few examples.

I find myself indebted to the improbable sounding 'Organ Historical Trust of Australia'  for this shot of one of Maryborough's Anglican churches,

and yet another of the same denomination, an even more imposing edifice.

St Mary's Catholic church (thanks to 'Wikipedia') is unusually modest by comparison.







I include that comment in the light of what we have seen in so many Australian country towns, where those faithful to the Church of Rome invariably seem to lead the field as far as the size and prominent location of their places of worship are concerned. 

Churches and hotels....'Saints and Sinners'....a recurring theme of early Australian development, particularly where ports and/or the wealth of gold finds were town features, and here in Maryborough we have both.

This place is alive with wonderful pubs, old and new. The failure of the second part of Plan 'A', to have Liz drop me off and pick me up some hours later (whilst we were at Howard) after I had tramped my way in and out of several of them, remains a real regret. 

But at least I can share a few of them pictorially.

Built in 1889, the Post Office Hotel can, oddly enough, be found directly opposite its namesake building on the corner of Bazaar and Wharf Streets.

For any wandering along Adelaide Street, the obviously redecorated Australian Hotel, 'The Aussie',  offers a thirst quenching ale,

as does the Criterion, to be found down near the old docks.

1889 was a good year for Maryborough pub construction. Sadly the Engineers Arms, which rose here in March Street at the same time as its much larger competitor, The Post Office, has not survived commercially.

But the same cannot be said of the one Maryborough pub which we adopted as our 'local'. 






The Lamington Hotel, a mere stone's throw from our caravan park, was well and truly open for business, as this website photo shows.

Whilst it did not ooze antiquity and heritage like many of its town counterparts, the good old Lamington was close by and pouring a good drop from its taps. We treated ourselves to pre-dinner drinks with the locals on two occasions whilst here and thoroughly enjoyed both the beers and the chats.

Heaps of historical buildings, groups of grand churches, a plethora of pubs....what more could this town possibly offer a visitor.....masses of murals, that's what!

The Fraser Coast website exhorts visitors thus:  

"Be inspired by Maryborough's growing tourist attraction and walk the Mural Trail, telling the quirky and serious stories of the city's colourful past from the time when it was Queensland's major industrial city building naval ships, sugar mills and railway rolling stock.

Launched in 2015, the trail now has 37 large scale murals and installations adorning buildings in the city's Central Business District"

I'm not too sure just how 'inspired' we were, but this was one 'town walk' we did manage to complete, assiduously following the trail through the city streets and lanes provided by the relevant tourist brochure, and whilst 'inspiration' may have been in somewhat short supply, avid interest certainly was not. Here is but a sample of what we saw.





The first we came to was a relatively small offering on the rather forbidding looking cream brick walls of the town Fire Station. 






In the shot above, it is almost hidden (beneath the large tower) and although many of the murals are right in one's face, the discovery of some, like this, requires some perseverance.


More than merely satisfying the artistic passions of local brush-folk, each of these murals has a real tale to tell, all of which are reproduced on the associated plaques and in the relevant trail brochure. This has made my lot as a scribe much easier!



"This mural, placed poignantly on the wall of Maryborough Fire Station, recognises the bravery of 12-year-old Lex Casperson, who with his dog “Foxie” saved his two brothers and a sister from a house fire on 28 July 1927. “Foxie” was given a new collar and his young master awarded the bronze medal for bravery by the Royal Humane Society."

Whilst some of the paintings are a little tricky to find, others are far more prominent, as indeed was the subject of this one in both local and Australian history.

"A founding member of the Labor Party in Queensland, Andrew Fisher held the seat of Wide Bay from 1901 to 1915. He served as Australia’s Prime Minister and Treasurer for three terms from 1908 until 1915 and committed troops to fight in World War I." 

Still on an historical note, this scene adoring the wall of an industrial business shows a group picnicking on the banks of the Mary River at the site of the original ferry crossing which preceded the Granville Bridge.

The theme of some of the murals is self-evident, such as the row of women staffing an old telephone switchboard seen here on the side wall of the Telstra building. 

The same could not be said for its painted neighbour, one of the largest murals in the town, but our brochure provided the answer. 

"In September 1847, Governor Sir Charles FitzRoy named the Mary River in honour of his wife, Lady Mary Lennox, who was killed in a carriage accident three months later. Still saddened by her death, Sir Charles changed the name of Wide Bay Village to Maryborough a little over a year later in 1849. The mural symbolises the link between Lady Mary and the naming of the river and city."

We already knew of this tragedy and its upshot, but I have to concede I was a little hard pressed to connect it with what I was looking at here........nothing like a touch of artistic licence!

But back to the more practical (and more obvious) in this painting atop the local brew shop where the connection is immediately obvious......or is it?

"This mural tells the story of Polish migrant Louis Emmanuel Steindl, who arrived in Australia in 1871 and opened the Bavarian Brewery in Granville seven years later in 1878. At its peak the business produced 120 hogsheads of beer a week (one hogshead is about 242 litres). Lois died in 1913 with a considerable fortune."

Local business and industry is recognized in different ways along the mural trail such as this,  celebrating the importance of dairying.....this and the brew shop are but two examples.

Following the mural trail is a fascinating way to discover a city we decided. Coloured splashes pop up everywhere, on main streets and in back laneways. And each has a story which is relevant to the city (even when this is not immediately apparent).

When we came across this offering in a back lane, I initially thought the artist was having a bit of fun at the expense of what appeared to be a turtle, with no other purpose. This was far from he truth.





"An endangered species, the Mary River Turtle, was illegally collected and sold throughout the 1960s as pet “penny turtles”. One of the largest in Australia, this turtle frequents the Mary River from Gympie to the tidal reaches just upstream from Maryborough. The population is considered a critical priority for conservation."

No wonder the turtle on the wall is looking somewhat alarmed.......and here was me thinking that this was merely something of a local cartoon!

The next we came to created the same impression initially, but by now I had learnt not to pre-judge, and to read the story!

"A photograph taken at the turn of the century of a girl sitting on a four metre crocodile was the inspiration for this street art project. It’s believed the image was taken after a crocodile was shot in the Mary River by Walter McIndoe and displayed by the Cran family at their Iindah Sugar Plantation in 1903."

I'll warrant neither was as perky looking (as has been depicted here) at the time of said photo, particularly the crocodile!

These marvellous reflections on local life, industry, history and development, just go on and on. Let me finish this section with two 'colourful local identities'.........neither of whom was associated with horse racing!!

Firstly we have good old Arnie,

who actually warranted having his story inscribed in paint alongside his image.

And then we came to my favourite, by streets (!)....and this has nothing to do with my personal penchant for pigs (a long story...well know to family and close friends!). Hidden away on this side wall of a shop in Kent Street we have 'The Inspector of Nuisances'....seriously!

Read on, all ye of little faith in your scribe!

This chap does not have a name and is merely a representation of all who undertook this oddest of municipal functions. I just loved the way he was dressed up to resemble Conan Doyle's super hero of fictional detectives.

Wharf Street is home to a series of murals which link into the military history of Maryborough, including one of someone we met before when earlier roaming around Queens Park,

none other than the Reverend Philip Thomas Byard 'Tubby" Clayton, the co-founder of Toc H.

I could go on and on with these, but enough is enough. We have come across 'mural towns' frequently in our travels (Bowen and Mendooran come immediately to mind), but for us, this was far and away the most comprehensive, well organized and finely described series of town murals we had ever seen. It provides a wonderfully entertaining way to see the city and learn so much about it and its inhabitants. Well done Maryborough!

And to finish.....well, it seems every country town strives to impress visitors with at least one of its 'born and bred' who has achieved prominence on the country or world stage. Maryborough is no exception, and its Civic Fathers have gone to great lengths to ensure that it is brought to the attention of all and sundry.

In 1899, one Helen Lyndon Goff was born in the building which then housed the Australian Joint Stock Bank where her father was, at the time, the manager (but not for long.....he was a chronic alcoholic who was soon demoted and subsequently died of the effects of the demon drink at the age or 43).

So? Well, does the name Pamela Lyndon Travers ring a louder bell? Still struggling?

Here's another clue, one which can be found throughout the city, on the traffic light poles

and the pedestrian lights themselves. Oh, come on....who's the most famous brolly toting nanny in the world?

Helen Lyndon Goff @ Pamela Lyndon Travers, a good old Maryborough girl (although she really didn't spend too much of her life here) is the author of the famous Mary Poppins series, and the town celebrates this link in spades, not only at the pedestrian crossings

but also with this life size bronze stature of the redoubtable Ms Poppins in front of the old bank building of her creator's birth in Richmond Street.

What a fascinating town this had turned out to be. Let me conclude this somewhat overly long final Maryborough offering almost in the manner in which I began (weeks ago!), when I mentioned my sorrow that much of the city is now showing signs of significant housing disrepair. I also commented on the contrasts to be seen here.

Despite its obvious decline, Maryborough remains home to some magnificent private abodes. It is worth winkling them out........here are a few examples which I have to admit I filched from the 'Real Estate' website because as we drove past several of them I was unable to stop to take my own photos.

These are but three, of quite contrasting styles,

which still grace Maryborough Streets in all their splendour

to remind those who visit this town that it was once a place of real wealth and grandeur, a thriving rural port city which played such an important part in not only the development of the local distinct, but of Queensland itself.

We were so glad we took the time to finally see all this for ourselves, even if I missed my proposed pub crawl!