A REAL TIME UPDATE (16 MARCH) AND A HIGHWAY SURPRISE - DIMBOOLA 26 FEBRUARY 2016

Let me begin with an apology and an update.  It's happened again!  I'm behind.....way behind.  For those monitoring progress, we have just arrived in Beechworth where we plan to stay put for the next nine days until moving to nearby Porepunkah for Easter (and hopefully spectacular autumn colours).

For the past two weeks we have been staying with our good friends the Vogts at their Mount Martha home on the Mornington Peninsula. To say life there was somewhat hectic is the understatement of the year to date. But it was not all beer and skittles. Much of this activity revolved around caravan maintenance, repairs and additions, but I'll have more to say about that later.

We did have the time of our lives, saw much, ate and drank far too well and laughed constantly. We also now have a van which is more operational than it's been for months. All of this made for a marvellous fortnight, but it is good to now have the time to catch our breath for a while, dry out our livers, make a concerted effort on reducing the waistline (applicable to your scribe only!) and resume our on-road adventures. Thank you Rhonda and John....you are perfect hosts.




But now let's backtrack to our departure from Adelaide. At last! Back on the road again. The south-eastern freeway opened before us and we were on our way out through the Adelaide Hills. It seemed such a long time since the highway had been our home.

Although all these names were familiar they meant we were on our way......rejoicing!

In what seemed like no time we were hauling across the Stockport Bridge with the mighty Murray flowing beneath us. It was somewhat odd to think that only a couple of weeks ago I had been digging cockles on the beach only a kilometre or so from its mouth.








The freeway gave way to the Dukes Highway which took us through Tailem Bend, past the high landmark grain silos of Coonalpyn and on through the farming communities of Tintinara and Keith. 

Bordertown came and went, and in no time














we had crossed our first state border in this year's adventures.







We have both travelled this highway to Melbourne on many occasions, separately and together, but it had been quite a while since the last trip.....we were very interested to seen how much was familiar.



Past the border, and on into the the open lands of the western Wimmera we bounced...literally. One feature of the Victorian Western Highway had not changed. It is still highly in need of resurfacing. But it is all comparative. Those of us who have suffered on the Worrego Highway between Roma and the east coast know just how bad a major Australian road can really be!



We did discover that our memories were pretty good as we made our way through Lillimur, Kaniva and Nhill, with one major exception.  In my recollections, the large red brick building on the bend of the main street in Nhill was a pub.....it is in fact the post office!  Wishful thinking on my part??

We had chosen Dimboola as our overnight destination for two reasons.  Firstly, although we had driven through it before on a quest for fuel many years ago, we had not spent and time there, and secondly, it was, on my planning calculations, 350 kms from Adelaide, our optimum driving distance. 

Wrong!  When Liz logged into our electronic navigator she blithely informed me that our distance to run was just over 400 kms.  How could this possibly be, I wondered?  I am all too aware of my severe limitations when it comes to mental arithmetic.....I had done all my distance sums twice and came up with the same answer.....just under 350 kms. How could I have lost 60 kms or so?

The answer finally revealed itself. The map I was using was wrong!! In the distances matrix at the front of the individual maps it listed Adelaide - Bordertown as 209 kms.  I had taken this on trust (given I used to be stationed at Keith as a young copper I should have known better). The actual distance is nearer 260 kms.....the missing kms had been identified. We had booked ahead at the Dimboola Caravan Park, and although that could be changed, we decided to box on anyway.





And we were very glad we did. The township is off the main highway, reached via a by-pass road which leads into one of the town's main commercial streets.










As we made our way along this to the 'post office corner' where we turned right to travel under the archway advocating the wonders of the Little Desert National Park (to which Dimboola is the gateway)











Liz noted a yellow street sign in front of the quaint 'distances to everywhere' sign post. "Aha, they must have know you were coming." "Some things are just not funny, Elizabeth!"
















Just beyond the National Park archway we came to the caravan park entrance












and the sign pointing to the to the park office quite some distance along the entrance roadway.













As we booked in we realised we had stumbled on another hidden gem. Our congenial host Russell invited us to pick a patch of grass wherever we liked. And there was plenty to choose from.







This Shire owned park is spacious to say the least.  Russell did apologise for the fact that much seemed to be 'under repair', explaining that a major upgrade was in progress. This was of very limited concern to us as we drove onto our selected site, within short walking distance of the more than adequate red brick amenities block,








and looked out over the expanses of the newly laid bitumen roadways and some of the many refurbished park cabins.





 





The current camp kitchen is just fit for purpose, but that is of no concern.....













its newly built and equipped replacement, adjoining the vast lawns of the camping sites, is about to open for business.





And to top it all off our site was completely level (unusual on grass) and  we had this lovely place almost to ourselves. You probably know by now my penchant for 'elbow room'.....here we had it is spades.


But it gets better.  The park is situated on the banks of the surprisingly impressive Wimmera River, which rises in the  Pyranees Ranges near Ararat, flows through Horsham and Dimboola and eventually drains into Lake Hindmarsh (more of this later), a short distance beyond Jeparit. It is the longest land-locked river in Victoria. 









Looking downstream from the new (relatively) road bridge along the river (which is apparently well stocked with good eating fish....callop and redfin in particular) we could see that some lucky local had a home with a view.






Moored upstream was a 'home' of a completely different hue, Russell's lovely little riparian fishing platform, complete, he told me, with all mod cons and built so as to be able to be converted into a trailer for easy transport to other locations.  Now that was impressive!









The beautifully kept grassy banks along this stretch of the river sport a judging platform installed by the very active local rowing club, and a shelter shed for those wishing to picnic by the water.







And for the more active, a well maintained walking trail along the river bank 













houses exercise stations at regular intervals (for some perspective...if you look closely over the top of the exercise machine, you can see our van in the distance)











What a delightful spot this is. The caravan park is definitely situated at the 'sporting end of town'. The side opposite the entrance opens out onto the local football and cricket oval, with a huge indoor sports stadium at one end.






On game day those wishing to shout for their team must stop briefly to pay their entrance dues at this quaintest of ticket boxes, whilst for those taking the other fork in the road,

the Dimboola tennis courts, bowls and croquet facilities are on offer.












As could probably be expected, the large community swimming pool is a mere hop, step and jump away. 







There is little doubt that the good folk of Dimboola have a fine range of sporting choices for both young and old. But our one night stay had us looking for other fun. A few beers at the local pub and an evening meal were on our sporting agenda.





Now I know of many country pubs which lay claim to providing a real experience, but I have to say the Victoria Hotel in Dimboola punches well above its weight in this regard.



 


It is the only one of five original hotels remaining to provide for slaking the thirsts of the locals, and has recently been taken over by an enterprising young couple who are determined to make this a real point of difference in the town.



And, after expressing our admiration for the extraordinary collection of fine furniture in the incredible lounge area, mine host, who had overheard me, immediately offered us a guided tour through the establishment.

Past the lounge we were shown the smaller of two downstairs dining rooms, the one in which we would later enjoy a fine meal.  








We had to eat here because the main dining room was set for a formal event, a gathering of members of the local wine club (more of this later).











Then it was up the grand old stair case, past the array of silver plates and other knick-knacks which the publican's wife sources locally (as she does with all the furnishings.....many of which have a direct historical connection with the town)









to an upper, private dining room with its incredible collection of photos and sketches of old Dimboola,

a refurbished country style guest room 












and on out to the balcony, which remains a 'work in progress'. With great views along two of Dimboola's main streets, the longer term plan is to set this up as an 'al fresco' bar and dining area for use during the warmer months. What a great idea. 




We were charmed to have been given such a personal tour, a marvellous start to a memorable evening.  Repairing back to the small front bar we rubbed shoulders with a real gathering of the locals, several of whom were only too happy to chat about our adventures and regale us with what the town had to offer. 

As I expressed my surprise about the very little coin of the realm demanded of me for a round of drinks, the buxom barmaid beamed......"It's happy hour, sir...welcome to the Victoria". Welcome indeed.  

As the pints slipped down and the chatter increased, out from the kitchen came huge plates of bar nibbles.....small pies and pasties, meat balls, dim sims and an array of other far from healthy but irresistible bite sized munchies.  As a visitor, and one who is not unfamiliar with the finer points of good pub manners, I held back somewhat from a full frontal attack on these goodies until chided by one of the locals who asked if I had lost my appetite.  That was that......I'm still not sure how I managed dinner later! 

On a Friday afternoon, the front bar of the Victoria Hotel is the only place to be in Dimboola. Time stood still, or it seemed to. This all reminded us both so much of the many marvellous Friday afternoons and evenings we had enjoyed at the Seacliff pub with our mates when we had first moved to South Brighton......until it was 'upgraded' and went 'yuppie', that is.

Eventually her good self, who had been less enthusiastic than I about the happy hour nibbles, suggested we had better make our way to the dining area before the kitchen closed.  Why not? And here awaited another surprise. The wine mob had brought with them a range of DiGeorgio bubbles, a Coonawarra favourite of ours (well Liz's in particular).  Again we got chatting to mine host about our previous visits to, and knowledge of that area, and the DiGeorgio enterprise in particular. Well, the next thing we knew was that an unused bottle found its way to our table. Needless to say, this, and a meal of good old fashioned country pub size and taste, topped off what had become one of the best 'first nights out' we have ever enjoyed.

All that remained in our whistle stop tour of Dimboola was for me to get out and about first thing in the morning for a little more town photography.

As you might imagine, I did not greet the break of day with my usual verve, but needs must. The fuzzy head was put firmly on the back burner as I trudged off in the early morning light to do a quick jaunt of the CBD.

Along the 'main drag', not far from the Post Office, I came across two small and rather non-descript shops which really caught may attention...by virtue of just how different they were.










Here we had one offering all kinds of 'closing sales' bit and pieces, and, right next to it











a mini emporium specialising of all things in 'Indian bangles and bracelets'....'genuine' of course. Why not, I thought....I mean to say what's life coming to in a small Victorian country town if the locals can't don an Indian bracelet or two on a special occasion? How utterly bizarre! 








On I went, even daring a shake or two of my significantly challenged head.  The large old building which houses the local library and other civic entities was far more of what I had expected to find,












but the nearby old wooden Court House did come as another Dimboola surprise.












The local RSL is a modest affair to say the least,

but not so the old National Bank building which stands lording it grandly over the next intersection. Can't you just pick old bank buildings....they all have that 'solid' look....very clever marketing before the concept was really understood!









Here, as I looked down a side street at the most imposing (and unusual) spectacle of a Moreton Bay fig and pepper tree together forming this massive archway over the road, 








I began to learn something of the history of Dimboola.  This footpath arbour past which I walked is made of timbers from the original road bridge over the Wimmera River, a bridge which was destroyed in the massive relatively recent local floods of 2010/11 and replaced with the cement structure over which I had previously walked.









Beyond the spread of the two huge trees I came to this sign and another nearby which gave me some insight into Dimboola's history.





Another surprise was in store.  The district was first explored by none other than Edward John Eyre who, in 1838, was toddling along the Wimmera River hoping to reach the Murray. On 23 March he reached the area which later became the Dimboola Common.  A few days later, local aborigines led him to the large lake to the north-west which he named Lake Hindmarsh (into which the Wimmera River empties) after the then Governor of the fledgling colony of South Australia.

Nothing much happened in the area after that until 1859 when an enterprising Irishman, one Matthew Ternan, recognised that the Nine Creeks crossing area was one used by local squatters and 'bullockies' in significant numbers. Catering to their worldly needs seemed to Ternan to have potential, and in good old Irish fashion he began in the most practical of ways......he built and opened a wine shanty!

Business must have been brisk, for a year later Ternan took on a partner, William Lloyd, a travelling hawker, and as the enterprise expanded, its founder rather unfortunately suddenly dropped dead.

Undaunted, Lloyd continued the business (having later married Ternan's widow.....he probably couldn't believe his luck!) and in 1863 he declared himself the unofficial founder of Dimboola when the area was gazetted as a town.





The Common has played a significant part in local life since then. Some of the stream depressions still run through the area, complete with their incongruous palm trees, but the nature of the Common itself has undergone a complete change.





In March 1869, three hundred acres of land was gazetted as The Common.  This was made available to all local residents as an area on which they could graze their horses and cattle, for a fee, of course.

This was clearly a popular move. Within less than ten years The Common had been expanded to encompass 2,700 acres, but its use changed dramatically in 1903 when a weir was built across the Wimmera River to ensure Dimboola's water supply.  Many immigrant Chinese, and a number of the local aboriginal population, built accommodation on The Common, but sadly most of these historic buildings and many of the huge and stately red gums which were a feature of The Common all disappeared as the result of a devastating bushfire which raged through this area on 22 December 1980.

Now, of course, Dimboola survives as a service town for the surrounding wheat growing district and as the gateway to the Little Desert National Park. Obviously there is much more to the town that I have had the time to either see or present.  I rather suspect, with the attraction of the delightful caravan park and the prospect of good fishing in the Wimmera River, Dimboola is now on our ever expanding 'MacArthur list' (we shall return). But for now, it is farewell with fond memories. An overnight stay in Ballarat awaits before we take up the challenge of crossing the metropolis of Melbourne en route to the Mornington Peninsula.