Apples....I did mention them in passing in my last Bridgetown missive, initially as a crop first grown in the area and later as a fruit which retains a local focus. What a very sensible thing they are now doing with apples in Bridgetown.....making cider, and an excellent range at that.
As you would expect, tramping up and down the main street and the surrounding hills did produce a thirst. We were off to do something about it, and, as a result, discovered an idyllic corner of this town.....'The Cidery'.
With its front entrance wreathed in white climbing roses and the pathway from the car park
A quick tour of the surrounds did nothing to dispel this first impression. The rear of the premises features a green and shady outdoor eating area,
whilst nearby, those with a penchant for a quick pre or post dinner stroll can take advantage of the heritage rose walk which wends it way past the duck pond.
What a good start. Could this theme of relaxed country charm be continued indoors? Indeed it was.
A small, intimate 'snug' greeted us as we eagerly passed through the portals of what was originally a local garage.
The Cidery is the end result of a wonderful collaboration between seven families, most local, who were keen to foster recognition of the importance of the apple in Bridgetown's development and to provide a high class venue in which 'the taste of Bridgetwon' could be offered to visitors.
And they have succeeded in spades. Adjacent to the snug is a cosy lounge area, furnished with one of my favourites, leather Chesterfield lounges.....the epitome of gracious old style living!
The family collaboration to which I previously referred has brought a wide range of skills to this venture, including agriculture, construction, engineering, marketing, printing and education. Wow, what a formidable array of talent, which, from what we experienced has been put to very good use indeed.
The Cidery is a functioning facility. In addition to daily cider production, boutique beers are also brewed here. The building which houses the brewery, and the associated bar and restaurant, has been constructed with the extensive use of WA timbers by one of the consortium, a local builder (who, we were told, still fronts each morning at 0500 hours to supervise the apple crush before heading off to a full day's work).
This place really is something.
The quite large indoor dining area extends from the bar to a corner of the room in which there is a display of old farming and horticulture equipment.
As a quirky addition, caricatures of many of those in the collective which own and manage The Cidery have been painted on the walls of this area.
As a quirky addition, caricatures of many of those in the collective which own and manage The Cidery have been painted on the walls of this area.
They are very well done, and, from our point of view, because of the positioning of this display, not at odds with the rest of the character of the place.
It was one thing to admire and be impressed by the infrastructure, but what of the product? Our most friendly and informative host behind the bar was a mine of information about the range of ciders and perry on tap. It was useful that we were the only visitors at the time. Our provided samples of The Cidery's scrumpies, sweet and dry ciders and perry (pear cider) were as generous as the explanations.
I have to confess my approach to the tasting of the scrumpy was tentative. The very word conjures up an instant recall of my demise many years ago at the hands of several London bobbies with whom I was sharing police 'Section House' (a form of barracks.....very well equipped and very good for the price) accommodation in the heart of London. I spent over two months there whilst returning from my tour of UN duty in Cyprus and became good friends with many of the single lads similarly housed.
A number of them, as is our want when young, fit, foolish and competitive, had attempted to see off this Aussie interloper with overly generous shouts of the various local beers and ales at a number of the local pubs. All attempts failed save one...you guessed it...scrumpy was my nemesis.
I later discovered that our wonderful day trip to Somerset (nothing is very far from anything in the UK!) had been a well prepared, and became an equally well executed, trap for one very young player, yours truly.
"Try this, Pete. A bit of the local brew made from apples." "I've heard of this stuff. How potent is it?" was the cautious reply. "About the same as Watneys E."
Bloody liars. The damned stuff tasted innocuous enough, but I didn't manage to even finish the fourth proffered pint. My 'mates' later gleefully regaled the entire Section House with tales of my less than dignified exit from the Somerset house of horrors to which I had been taken. How could such a quintessential British country pub, the epitome of rustic charm and warmth, house and dispense such a villianously potent brew?
I was later told that is was not at all uncommon to find dead rodents and other assorted pieces of local flora and fauna in the open barrels in which the scrumpy was fermented. With genuine Somerset scrumpy nothing would surprise me, and I was sure there had been no bug born which could possibly survive a swim in these barrels.
I am prepared to concede that my appearance at breakfast the following morning was more than sufficient to dispel and lingering doubts held about the completeness of the job done on the 'visiting colonial'. Oddly enough, all later offers of scrumpy (and there were many attempts made) were soundly refused.
But I put all these nightmarish memories behind me and courageously hopped into the presented Cidery range. As you can see, I didn't enjoy a moment of it!
We left The Cidery lamenting two things....our schedule meant that we would not be able to enjoy Friday afternoon live music and the accompanying happy hour, and our budget would only allow me to leave this wonderful establishment with an assorted six pack! The Cidery produces a seriously good product.
Many who visit Bridgetown do so to take advantage of the several formal walks available throughout the area. We were no exceptions. After our tour of the CBD and The Cidery, a river ramble beckoned as our final Bridgetown experience.
Initially we took a path down from our caravan park
which led us to a nearby boardwalk through the the river bank bush.
At this stage we were not quite sure where this would take us but soon discovered it was to a short bridge over the river. From here we could see back across this pond to the edge of the caravan park which was all very interesting, but it was not where we wanted to be. We were keen to have a close look at the main highway bridge and the cafe at the southern end of Hampton Street. "About turn Lizzie."
It was back to the main track on the other side of the Blackwood and off towards the town.
Expanses of green lawn abound along this part of the river, dotted with public BBQs, shelters and benches.
And here we came across one of the most colourful public toilets we have ever seen
where the attractions of Bridgetown were artistically represented.
The dead timbers of the road bridge were soon in sight through the living timbers of the river bank trees.
As we took in the information presented on this riverside board, we suddenly had company....a honking gaggle of geese made a noisy and determined approach. What were they up to?
All soon became clear. We were not in their sights at all. They had spied a family group on the bank beyond where we were standing and these were obviously geese who knew where their next free meal was coming from. They out muscled their smaller cousins, the ducks, in no time.
For us it was back to the bridge. This is an impressive structure, the longest road bridge in the south-west of WA. It is constructed of local jarrah. Entire trunks have been bolted together to form both the uprights and the lateral bearers. I was amazed to learn that this is a relatively modern structure...this fifth version of the bridge across the Blackwood river was completed in 1980. No point in pouring cement when all this local timber is available.
Mind you this philosophy did not apply to the nearby rail bridge which spans the same gap on huge cement pylons.
On our arrival the previous day, despite the resultant fatigue of the drive though from Nanup, we could not help but notice this odd looking statue at the road junction. We now had the chance to find out a bit more about it. And, frankly, having read the nearby explanatory plaque we were not much the wiser. 'From Life To Life' is an expression of the connection between humans and the earth and is an advocation to look after the planet. Despite a serious effort, I struggled to make any real sense of the description. All very esoteric.
After this brief and bewildering brush with local culture it was across the bridge on the last leg of this particular quest, where, as expected,
we were afforded a great upstream view of the dark waters of the Blackwood River back almost as far as our caravan park. Like most rivers and streams in this part of the world, the waters of the Blackwood are stained to a shade similar to that of tea by the tannins from the bark of the trees on the banks.
This can be a little off-putting if contemplating a swim as I discovered some year ago at Lennox Head when I took a dip in Lake Ainsworth, a body of water similarly discoloured. Despite the fact that the water was completely pure and safe, it was like swimming in Coca Cola....quite disconcerting for a time.
At the end of the bridge this stone wall sign announces one's arrival in Bridgetown. The town theme, as shown here, is 'simply beautiful'. From all we had seen, we could not possibly disagree.
This heralds the southern entrance into Hampton Street
and is the location of the last of the Bridgetown cafe/restaurants we took in. 'Horti Towers', circa 1903, advertises devonshire teas, all day lunches and, for those who have almost everything, jewellery from Peru! At 20% off all pieces, this was a snip, but we just weren't in the market for Peruvian jewellery today. Like most similar businesses in and around Bridgetown, a beautiful garden is a feature of this establishment.
We were certainly here at the right time as far as seeing the trees, shrubs and gardens at their best. Everything was in flower...a constant kaleidoscope of colour.
As we meandered back to our digs, stopping just long enough to again admire John Blechyden's site selection for his country seat,
yet another 'tooth pick truck' thundered past us over the bridge.
These log trucks had become a constant in our lives over the past thirty six hours....a noisy sign of a vital part of the local economy. For us, they will remain a symbol of this charming town, hand in hand with the beautiful countryside, the trees and gardens, the historical buildings, the pubs, cafes and restaurants, the riparian delights of the Blackwood River, the extraordinary jigsaw puzzle gallery and, of course, The Cidery. The six-pack did not survive the visit!
We both agreed this was a place where we could have spent much longer, but, by now the excitement was beginning to build, well for your scribe at least. Tomorrow we were off to Denmark to catch up with the Cooks et al and take part in 'Albany 100'.
No comments:
Post a Comment