We had packed so much socialising into our three day stay in Brisbane the prospect of a few more days on the road almost seemed like a vacation. What a hoot it had been, but the schedule was unrelenting. And we were in for a real climate shock. Stanthorpe's reputation as the coldest place in Queensland is well deserved.
For the next section of our trip back to Adelaide, Liz did take a few highway shots which I've included to break up the text, but we did not do our usual 'town shots' with the odd exception or two. As I have mentioned before, we intend to take a much more leisurely jaunt along the New England Highway at some later date when we'll share our normal really good look around.
Our route out of Brisbane took us south-west, by-passing Ipswich, and onto the Cunningham Highway where we actually traversed what is know here as the 'Scenic Rim'. Scenic it certainly is, and very, very rugged.
These few photos do not do an iota of justice to what we saw as we drove through. This is a spectacular area.
It is part of the Great Dividing Range,
over which we had to climb this morning
as we made our way to the first major town through which we had to pass, Warwick.
Here, not too far on from this imposing church
we left the Cunningham Highway (which continues west to Goondiwindi and beyond) and began the first leg of our long haul south along the New England Highway, known also as 'The Country Way'. Our destination of Stanthorpe was now not far.
It is one of the towns in what is known as Queensland's 'granite belt', an area some 200 or so kilometres south-west of Brisbane through which the border with NSW runs. As the Welcome sign says, this is wine country, cool climate wine country (with a surprising number of producers) but a sample or two at their cellar doors will have to wait for our next trip through here.
By mid afternoon, after travelling 250 kms for the day, we set up in Stanthorpe's Top of The Town caravan park. Things are pretty quiet here at this time of the year. "Just pick any site you like", was the invitation from the office. I did just that....a convenient 'drive-through'. Why back and fill when there is no need to do so?
This is a pretty park with plenty of trees and gardens, good clean amenities and very obliging staff.
One of its real features is the bird life. Feeding platforms attract all sorts of our feathered friends. This 'plain jane' Corella
was no match in the colour stakes to this beautiful eastern Rosella, and these are but two species of many we spotted during our two night stay.
Now I did mention that this is a cool climate wine region? That's not entirely correct. This is a bloody cold climate wine region....like the Adelaide Hills on steroids! Fortunately we knew what to expect, having often previously joked about the number of times Stanthorpe featured on the weather reports as having had the lowest Queensland minimum temperature, but knowing is one thing.....being there was a different matter altogether.
We awoke the morning after our arrival to a sparkling minus 2 degrees.....yes, dear reader, minus 2. It was like waking up in an ice box, a sensation made all the worse by the fact that we had been enjoying overnight temperatures in the high teens for months. This was the time to see just how good our newly restored diesel heater really was. I can report with extreme satisfaction that it warmed the van to 23 degrees within ten minutes....this is a seriously efficient bit of kit, one I cannot recommend too highly. It saved our lives in Stanthorpe!
Once the morning sun had done its job, we spent some hours ambling around the town before sitting down to decide where we would next lay our heads. Somewhere in our travels we had heard of the small town of Uralla, which lies between Armidale and Tamworth. On the basis of 'why not', Uralla it was to be.
Another day, another State. Within half an hour of leaving Stanthorpe, we crossed into New South Wales. It's amazing how relative distances can be....we felt as though we were almost home!
Less than 20 kms beyond the border found us making our way slowly through the narrow main street of Tenterfield, the country town immortalised in song by the late Peter Allen.
From the little we saw in transit, Tenterfield exuded a real charm.
As we continued south along the New England Highway,
through Glen Innes
and over the 'top of the range' at Guyra, our resolve to explore the towns of 'The New England' at a far more leisurely pace firmed considerably.
The highway actually by-passes Armidale, and we stoutly resisted the temptation to take a quick peek, if for no other reason than it would cause all sorts of frustration.
Before leaving Kurrimine Beach we had resolved to do something we had been promising ourselves for some time, that is spend a few days in Coonabarabran, a town through which we had driven several times (in my case, five) previously but never stopped other than for a quick bite. There was no time in which to explore Armidale.....we were still on a strict schedule.
So, after another day of a comfortable 250 kms, we drove into Uralla,
where, just beyond the impressive church building at the northern end of the town, the main street was laid out in front of us.
We had chosen the smaller of two caravan parks in Uralla. I did comment to Liz after booking that I suspected it would be 'rustic'......it was. Although the contours of the ground made getting onto our site a bit tricky, our surroundings were just delightful.
This park had the great advantage of being within a short walking distance of the main street (something which had, in part, driven our choice). We were in need of a stroll, and what better way to end a wander about the town than a refreshing pint or two in Uralla's Top Pub a mere two minute toddle from our camp.
Uralla, like a number of other Australian country towns, has a bushranger history. This is 'Captain Thunderbolt' country, the rather grandiose, self-bestowed title of one Frederick Wordsworth Ward.
Ward was a career criminal. After escaping from the Cockatoo Island penal settlement where he had been sentenced to ten years for horse stealing, he went on to become Australia's longest free roaming bushranger. Ward robbed folk far and wide, from Tamworth to the Queensland border and as far west as Bourke, before, in 1870 he was shot dead by police. Constable Walker did the honours on behalf of the long suffering community and although Ward was regarded as a 'gentleman' bushranger, his demise at the ripe old age of 35 was widely celebrated. In fact the redoubtable Constable Walker was the recipient of a very generous stipend for his work, the money coming from donations provided by a grateful public.
But now, in that peculiar Australian way, F. W. Ward's life of crime has elevated him to local celebrity status in the same manner as Ned Kelly, Captain Starlight, Ben Hall and the like. Why we have this penchant for thinking fondly of folk (well after their deaths) who were nothing more than common criminals, and in many cases, callous murderers, is beyond me completely.
So, with that short personal reflection on a small aspect of the Australian psyche, let's leave Uralla and move on to Coonabarabran.
For the next section of our trip back to Adelaide, Liz did take a few highway shots which I've included to break up the text, but we did not do our usual 'town shots' with the odd exception or two. As I have mentioned before, we intend to take a much more leisurely jaunt along the New England Highway at some later date when we'll share our normal really good look around.
Our route out of Brisbane took us south-west, by-passing Ipswich, and onto the Cunningham Highway where we actually traversed what is know here as the 'Scenic Rim'. Scenic it certainly is, and very, very rugged.
These few photos do not do an iota of justice to what we saw as we drove through. This is a spectacular area.
It is part of the Great Dividing Range,
over which we had to climb this morning
as we made our way to the first major town through which we had to pass, Warwick.
Here, not too far on from this imposing church
we left the Cunningham Highway (which continues west to Goondiwindi and beyond) and began the first leg of our long haul south along the New England Highway, known also as 'The Country Way'. Our destination of Stanthorpe was now not far.
It is one of the towns in what is known as Queensland's 'granite belt', an area some 200 or so kilometres south-west of Brisbane through which the border with NSW runs. As the Welcome sign says, this is wine country, cool climate wine country (with a surprising number of producers) but a sample or two at their cellar doors will have to wait for our next trip through here.
By mid afternoon, after travelling 250 kms for the day, we set up in Stanthorpe's Top of The Town caravan park. Things are pretty quiet here at this time of the year. "Just pick any site you like", was the invitation from the office. I did just that....a convenient 'drive-through'. Why back and fill when there is no need to do so?
This is a pretty park with plenty of trees and gardens, good clean amenities and very obliging staff.
One of its real features is the bird life. Feeding platforms attract all sorts of our feathered friends. This 'plain jane' Corella
was no match in the colour stakes to this beautiful eastern Rosella, and these are but two species of many we spotted during our two night stay.
Now I did mention that this is a cool climate wine region? That's not entirely correct. This is a bloody cold climate wine region....like the Adelaide Hills on steroids! Fortunately we knew what to expect, having often previously joked about the number of times Stanthorpe featured on the weather reports as having had the lowest Queensland minimum temperature, but knowing is one thing.....being there was a different matter altogether.
We awoke the morning after our arrival to a sparkling minus 2 degrees.....yes, dear reader, minus 2. It was like waking up in an ice box, a sensation made all the worse by the fact that we had been enjoying overnight temperatures in the high teens for months. This was the time to see just how good our newly restored diesel heater really was. I can report with extreme satisfaction that it warmed the van to 23 degrees within ten minutes....this is a seriously efficient bit of kit, one I cannot recommend too highly. It saved our lives in Stanthorpe!
Once the morning sun had done its job, we spent some hours ambling around the town before sitting down to decide where we would next lay our heads. Somewhere in our travels we had heard of the small town of Uralla, which lies between Armidale and Tamworth. On the basis of 'why not', Uralla it was to be.
Another day, another State. Within half an hour of leaving Stanthorpe, we crossed into New South Wales. It's amazing how relative distances can be....we felt as though we were almost home!
Less than 20 kms beyond the border found us making our way slowly through the narrow main street of Tenterfield, the country town immortalised in song by the late Peter Allen.
From the little we saw in transit, Tenterfield exuded a real charm.
As we continued south along the New England Highway,
through Glen Innes
and over the 'top of the range' at Guyra, our resolve to explore the towns of 'The New England' at a far more leisurely pace firmed considerably.
The highway actually by-passes Armidale, and we stoutly resisted the temptation to take a quick peek, if for no other reason than it would cause all sorts of frustration.
Before leaving Kurrimine Beach we had resolved to do something we had been promising ourselves for some time, that is spend a few days in Coonabarabran, a town through which we had driven several times (in my case, five) previously but never stopped other than for a quick bite. There was no time in which to explore Armidale.....we were still on a strict schedule.
So, after another day of a comfortable 250 kms, we drove into Uralla,
where, just beyond the impressive church building at the northern end of the town, the main street was laid out in front of us.
We had chosen the smaller of two caravan parks in Uralla. I did comment to Liz after booking that I suspected it would be 'rustic'......it was. Although the contours of the ground made getting onto our site a bit tricky, our surroundings were just delightful.
This park had the great advantage of being within a short walking distance of the main street (something which had, in part, driven our choice). We were in need of a stroll, and what better way to end a wander about the town than a refreshing pint or two in Uralla's Top Pub a mere two minute toddle from our camp.
Uralla, like a number of other Australian country towns, has a bushranger history. This is 'Captain Thunderbolt' country, the rather grandiose, self-bestowed title of one Frederick Wordsworth Ward.
Ward was a career criminal. After escaping from the Cockatoo Island penal settlement where he had been sentenced to ten years for horse stealing, he went on to become Australia's longest free roaming bushranger. Ward robbed folk far and wide, from Tamworth to the Queensland border and as far west as Bourke, before, in 1870 he was shot dead by police. Constable Walker did the honours on behalf of the long suffering community and although Ward was regarded as a 'gentleman' bushranger, his demise at the ripe old age of 35 was widely celebrated. In fact the redoubtable Constable Walker was the recipient of a very generous stipend for his work, the money coming from donations provided by a grateful public.
But now, in that peculiar Australian way, F. W. Ward's life of crime has elevated him to local celebrity status in the same manner as Ned Kelly, Captain Starlight, Ben Hall and the like. Why we have this penchant for thinking fondly of folk (well after their deaths) who were nothing more than common criminals, and in many cases, callous murderers, is beyond me completely.
So, with that short personal reflection on a small aspect of the Australian psyche, let's leave Uralla and move on to Coonabarabran.
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