An oversight!
Before our adventures take us further north through Narrabrai to Boomi, we must return briefly to Mudgee where I have failed to include a tale of 'guess who we met'.
On our Saturday jaunt through the CBD of Mudgee, Liz and I happened across a local market which was set up in the rather expansive grounds of the Anglican Church. As we wandered around checking the wares on offer we spotted a chap producing wooden carved name plates. We noted that the name on his rig was Dennis Ryan. That in itself may seem innocuous enough, but the name Ryan has a family connection in that it is the maiden name of Jim Keogh's mother. Jim is married to Liz's sister Cath. Furthermore the Ryans are spread far and wide throughout this part of NSW. Their bi-annual family reunions are legendary. Could it be?
Before our adventures take us further north through Narrabrai to Boomi, we must return briefly to Mudgee where I have failed to include a tale of 'guess who we met'.
On our Saturday jaunt through the CBD of Mudgee, Liz and I happened across a local market which was set up in the rather expansive grounds of the Anglican Church. As we wandered around checking the wares on offer we spotted a chap producing wooden carved name plates. We noted that the name on his rig was Dennis Ryan. That in itself may seem innocuous enough, but the name Ryan has a family connection in that it is the maiden name of Jim Keogh's mother. Jim is married to Liz's sister Cath. Furthermore the Ryans are spread far and wide throughout this part of NSW. Their bi-annual family reunions are legendary. Could it be?
Indeed it was. Dennis, it transpired, is Jim's uncle, his mum's brother. As if this were not enough, he is also the chap who made the large wooden outdoor setting which graces Cath and Jim's back patio, a piece of furniture at which Liz and I have sat during many happy occasions, particularly at Xmas. A quick phone call to Adelaide confirmed our thoughts. Dennis was more than a little taken aback to say the least when we then introduced ourselves and we enjoyed a delightful five minute chat. Our record of extraordinary meetings seems to be intact!
Leaving Mudgee we set out for Narrabrai, our planned overnight stop. And it was during this leg of our journey that the ship's cat was, for the first time in over 10,000 kms of travel, to DISGRACE HIMSELF!
An uncharacteristic spate of serious yowling was followed by an invasive and inescapable odour. "Max...tell me you haven't." Yes he had! "Sorry folks, there are times when a cat just has to revert to nature irrespective of time, place or circumstance". But what impeccable geographical timing the Black Panther has. How could one with any sense of humour be really cross when this rare indiscretion occurred just as we were approaching the township of 'Dunedoo'? He certainly 'dunnydid'!.
With internal sanitation and humour restored we pushed on and reached our destination of Narrabrai, having discovered en route a useful shortcut though the town of Mendoorah, which boasts an expansive free riverside campsite (but a short step to the local pub...always a good thing). Unusually, this lesser road we travelled was more comfortable than the main highway, yet another bonus to add to the 65 km reduction in distance between Mudgee and Coonabarabran. We had considered a stay at the delightful looking John Oxley park in Coona, but we really need to put a few more kms under us, so on it was to Narrabrai.
Our park site at the Narrabrai Highway Tourist Village and Caravan Park was one of mixed blessings. Having rung ahead and booked a drive-through which would allow us to remain hitched, I was more that a little peeved to discover that to do so on our allotted patch would mean that we were jutting out well onto the roadway.
This is not only impolite, but bloody silly. Caravan parks cater for all sorts of drivers, some of whom can be of limited skill even before their visit to the pub. So unhitch it was.
We are now well versed with the truism that all to do with caravanning is a compromise. Our retreat to justification in this instance took the form of, "Oh, well, we haven't really seen Narrabrai before, and we do need a Woollies and fuel".
The park did have some saving graces in that it was bordered on one side by a pretty, grassed park along a river bank in which Max had a jolly good time trying to convince us that he really was still the great white (sorry, black) hunter.
Despite having travelled through Narrabrai on several previous occasions, I retained almost no recollection of the town at all, other than that it carried an extraordinary amount of heavy vehicle traffic. This remains true. As for the town itself, we found it unremarkable in our short, somewhat enforced, tour around the CBD and environs. Perhaps we have done Narrabrai an injustice, but its rather sprawling industrial approaches were not really softened, as is the case often, by a town centre which boasts interesting old buildings and a degree of country charm. It just all seemed a bit brash and busy.
Anyway, enough of Narrabrai...off to Boomi. The rolling hills and grazing lands we had traversed almost since Mudgee soon gave way to the open, black soil paddocks which typify the approaches to Moree,
where the expansive cotton industry of this part of the country becomes evident. We later discovered that each of the rolled bales of cotton, pictured here in groups of five, is worth a staggering $10,000.
Even where the land is given over to grazing, the cotton fluff on the roadsides remains a reminder of the extent of that industry in this part of Australia. (more of this later)
Turning off the Newell Highway at Moree to travel north-west on the Canarvon we stopped for a break at the tiny rail siding town of Garah, where we knew we were certainly in 'the bush', in country which, as is self evident, is really in the grip of a nasty drought.
Another change of direction at Garah found us on the very secondary road taking us north the 40 remaining kilometres to Boomi. Would it really be what we have been expecting since first being told of it five years ago?
Our internet research had told us to expect a pretty dry and dusty caravan park, and indeed this was so, (that's us right at the end nearest the camera),
but there to greet us were our good friends Rhonda and John Vogt, and of course, Bobby, their big black labrador-samoyed cross. We had a dust free 'beer garden' set up between our vans in no time at all.
Boomi itself is a tiny township of wide streets and scattered housing, some neat,
and some not so.
Despite its limited population (we later learnt that the three kids we saw at the pool one afternoon accounted for the entire young population of the township) Boomi's main street houses, amongst other things, a Police Station (the officer's residence is considerably larger!)
a fine old country pub
and a quaint but impressive Memorial Hall which is bounded by, of all things, a granite post fence. The entrance gateway stone has been beautifully polished (but in this shot is unfortunately in shadow). Carved into it is the memorial roll of both WW's 1&2.
The relative grandeur of the fence fronting the modest wooden hall seemed somewhat incongruous, but the overall effect is quite arresting, and a real change from the ubiquitous 'soldier with upturned rifle' memorials to be found throughout country Australia.
We were somewhat taken aback to discover that Boomi boasts three churches. That which catered to those of the Presbyterian faith appears little used
whilst the Catholic parish is obviously alive and kicking.
The Anglicans are not entirely forgotten, although we were bemused to read on the notice in front of their modest church building that they have an opportunity to meet to worship only twice a year....at Easter and Christmas!
No trip to Boomi would be complete without taking in the Heritage display, also located in
the main street, immediately in front of a well found park and children's playground. Above the old wool dray are posted the names of all the nearby cattle stations together with their brands, some of which are most inventive to say the least. The steam engine attached to the dray was used locally for many years to drive a sawmill and provide power for drilling and other similar activities which required some considerable mechanical grunt.
We soon came to realise that this impressive historical offering typifies the Boomi community, one with a demonstrated pride in what they have to offer and a determination to make the most of both their community spirit and what nature provides.
And for us, that meant hot spas and swimming, the real reason for our visit. Opened five years ago, the spa and pool complex is set in lovely lawned and shaded surrounds
(complemented on this occasion by a visiting belle!) The artesian water which is pumped directly into the large spa tub emerges at an average temperature of 38 degrees (and here the visiting belle has attracted a suitor)
and when this becomes just a bit too much, one can take advantage of the twenty metre cold pool, to which just enough of the subterranean water is added to take off the edge.
Leaving Mudgee we set out for Narrabrai, our planned overnight stop. And it was during this leg of our journey that the ship's cat was, for the first time in over 10,000 kms of travel, to DISGRACE HIMSELF!
An uncharacteristic spate of serious yowling was followed by an invasive and inescapable odour. "Max...tell me you haven't." Yes he had! "Sorry folks, there are times when a cat just has to revert to nature irrespective of time, place or circumstance". But what impeccable geographical timing the Black Panther has. How could one with any sense of humour be really cross when this rare indiscretion occurred just as we were approaching the township of 'Dunedoo'? He certainly 'dunnydid'!.
With internal sanitation and humour restored we pushed on and reached our destination of Narrabrai, having discovered en route a useful shortcut though the town of Mendoorah, which boasts an expansive free riverside campsite (but a short step to the local pub...always a good thing). Unusually, this lesser road we travelled was more comfortable than the main highway, yet another bonus to add to the 65 km reduction in distance between Mudgee and Coonabarabran. We had considered a stay at the delightful looking John Oxley park in Coona, but we really need to put a few more kms under us, so on it was to Narrabrai.
Our park site at the Narrabrai Highway Tourist Village and Caravan Park was one of mixed blessings. Having rung ahead and booked a drive-through which would allow us to remain hitched, I was more that a little peeved to discover that to do so on our allotted patch would mean that we were jutting out well onto the roadway.
This is not only impolite, but bloody silly. Caravan parks cater for all sorts of drivers, some of whom can be of limited skill even before their visit to the pub. So unhitch it was.
We are now well versed with the truism that all to do with caravanning is a compromise. Our retreat to justification in this instance took the form of, "Oh, well, we haven't really seen Narrabrai before, and we do need a Woollies and fuel".
The park did have some saving graces in that it was bordered on one side by a pretty, grassed park along a river bank in which Max had a jolly good time trying to convince us that he really was still the great white (sorry, black) hunter.
Despite having travelled through Narrabrai on several previous occasions, I retained almost no recollection of the town at all, other than that it carried an extraordinary amount of heavy vehicle traffic. This remains true. As for the town itself, we found it unremarkable in our short, somewhat enforced, tour around the CBD and environs. Perhaps we have done Narrabrai an injustice, but its rather sprawling industrial approaches were not really softened, as is the case often, by a town centre which boasts interesting old buildings and a degree of country charm. It just all seemed a bit brash and busy.
Anyway, enough of Narrabrai...off to Boomi. The rolling hills and grazing lands we had traversed almost since Mudgee soon gave way to the open, black soil paddocks which typify the approaches to Moree,
where the expansive cotton industry of this part of the country becomes evident. We later discovered that each of the rolled bales of cotton, pictured here in groups of five, is worth a staggering $10,000.
Even where the land is given over to grazing, the cotton fluff on the roadsides remains a reminder of the extent of that industry in this part of Australia. (more of this later)
Turning off the Newell Highway at Moree to travel north-west on the Canarvon we stopped for a break at the tiny rail siding town of Garah, where we knew we were certainly in 'the bush', in country which, as is self evident, is really in the grip of a nasty drought.
Another change of direction at Garah found us on the very secondary road taking us north the 40 remaining kilometres to Boomi. Would it really be what we have been expecting since first being told of it five years ago?
Our internet research had told us to expect a pretty dry and dusty caravan park, and indeed this was so, (that's us right at the end nearest the camera),
but there to greet us were our good friends Rhonda and John Vogt, and of course, Bobby, their big black labrador-samoyed cross. We had a dust free 'beer garden' set up between our vans in no time at all.
Boomi itself is a tiny township of wide streets and scattered housing, some neat,
and some not so.
Despite its limited population (we later learnt that the three kids we saw at the pool one afternoon accounted for the entire young population of the township) Boomi's main street houses, amongst other things, a Police Station (the officer's residence is considerably larger!)
a fine old country pub
and a quaint but impressive Memorial Hall which is bounded by, of all things, a granite post fence. The entrance gateway stone has been beautifully polished (but in this shot is unfortunately in shadow). Carved into it is the memorial roll of both WW's 1&2.
The relative grandeur of the fence fronting the modest wooden hall seemed somewhat incongruous, but the overall effect is quite arresting, and a real change from the ubiquitous 'soldier with upturned rifle' memorials to be found throughout country Australia.
We were somewhat taken aback to discover that Boomi boasts three churches. That which catered to those of the Presbyterian faith appears little used
whilst the Catholic parish is obviously alive and kicking.
The Anglicans are not entirely forgotten, although we were bemused to read on the notice in front of their modest church building that they have an opportunity to meet to worship only twice a year....at Easter and Christmas!
No trip to Boomi would be complete without taking in the Heritage display, also located in
the main street, immediately in front of a well found park and children's playground. Above the old wool dray are posted the names of all the nearby cattle stations together with their brands, some of which are most inventive to say the least. The steam engine attached to the dray was used locally for many years to drive a sawmill and provide power for drilling and other similar activities which required some considerable mechanical grunt.
We soon came to realise that this impressive historical offering typifies the Boomi community, one with a demonstrated pride in what they have to offer and a determination to make the most of both their community spirit and what nature provides.
And for us, that meant hot spas and swimming, the real reason for our visit. Opened five years ago, the spa and pool complex is set in lovely lawned and shaded surrounds
(complemented on this occasion by a visiting belle!) The artesian water which is pumped directly into the large spa tub emerges at an average temperature of 38 degrees (and here the visiting belle has attracted a suitor)
and when this becomes just a bit too much, one can take advantage of the twenty metre cold pool, to which just enough of the subterranean water is added to take off the edge.
In the two and a half days we enjoyed the delights of Boomi, we managed to take in ten spa sessions and I covered just under two kms in the pool.....heaven!
The caravan park is immediately adjacent to the pool area, which is also serviced by the local store which offers an incredible, and very well selected, range of meat, groceries and small goods, in addition to a high standard take-away café.
Notwithstanding their slightly dilapidated appearance, these courts were the scene of much activity on the Mother's Day Sunday when a group of at least thirty local rural folk gathered for what is apparently a traditional tennis day and BBQ...and a couple of the younger lads could really hit a ball (well, at least until refreshments had been called..which was frequently!).
This entire complex is a community project. A paid manager is supported by local volunteer staff who, in addition to managing the caravan park bookings and payments, presented us one lunch time with the best (not the largest....that is yet to come) hamburger and crisp hot chips we have enjoyed for years. This not-for-profit venture directs all the proceeds towards maintaining, improving and publicising the hot spa and pool complex, with some obvious success. The modest park of 18 sites was full throughout our stay.
It was with genuine regret that the time came to pull down and saddle up for our next outback adventure in Nindigully. As it was, the three days of perfect, sunny autumn weather which had hitherto blessed our visit, came to an end on the morning of our departure.
The harbinger cloud did, however, provide the bonus of a stunning sunrise which I consider to be nature's apology for the rain which was to come (and come it did in Nindigully with some very interesting consequences......the subject of the next offering).
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