"Seventy dollars a night.....what were you thinking booking that??" The Treasurer's shrill cries of protest broke the calm of a fine, warm July morning in Kurrimine Beach last year, and still ring in my ears.
A decision had to be made. We had already agreed that we would target spending Easter 2016 in Bright, the centre of the Victorian high country autumn leaves colour. I strongly suspected that any without a booking made well in advance would have the same success in gaining accommodation over that period as a certain famous couple who travelled to Bethlehem over 2,000 years ago. A bunk in a stable at the rear of the Inn was not on my agenda.
And I was right. Of the three parks in Bright itself which would take not only us, but also our quadruped travelling companion, there were only two sites left.....for 18 ft vans. We would hang out over both ends. This was not a good start.
From my skiing days many years ago I remembered that the little town of Porepunkah was but a long spit from Bright. More phone calls and we were in. The good folk at the Porepunkah Bridge Caravan Park would be happy to have us......at $70 a night!
Fast forward eight months. By now the passage of time and advice from other travelling acquaintances, who had all confirmed that the Victorian high country over Easter is a price gouging Mecca, had reduced herself's initial fit of apoplexy to the occasional indignant splutter. I had put away my crash hat and,
after our wonderful week in Beechworth, we set sail for Porepunkah, south over the ranges between us and the Great Alpine Road which would take us through Myrtleford to our designated destination.
Although today's trip was very short, 55 kms or so, it did have its occasional challenging moments
as we eased our way along what was not the broadest highway we have ever travelled and negotiated quite a number of sharp bends on a steeply descending road.
But hey, let's face it, after the Abercrombie National Park road into Goulburn and the many climbs we have made up and down the Atherton Tableland, this was a mere training run by comparison. In no time we had negotiated the mountain pass and approaching the familiar B500.
Another fifteen minutes or so and the tree lined approaches to Myrtleford were in our windscreen.
As we continued through the town under what started as, and remained, a rather grey sky
and made our way out to travel south-east through the Ovens Valley, we had our first view of the huge mass of Mount Buffalo at really close quarters. This massive granite lump dominates the views to the south from all of the towns along the Ovens River in this part of the world.
This sign left us in no doubt we had certainly reached the 'high country'.
Despite the fact that we were now surrounded by mountains, the road through the Ovens Valley is comfortably flat and wide.
We completed today's run with ease, past the Porepunkah town centre turn-off
and across the Ovens River
to the large and busy round-a-bout just beyond the end of Hoopers Bridge.
After making a full right turn, a short stretch of the road up to Mount Buffalo now lay between us and our park,
and here we are.
As we pulled up at the park office, Liz could not resist one final word....."Where's the brass band?" "Make your self useful, Lizzie...go and see if we are too early to get in."
We were early in the general scheme of things. It was only 0955 hours. But we had arrived before the storm. The park was delightfully quiet at this time of the morning and our site was available. From the office we could see it.....if you look closely the van is pictured here right in mid shot just above the slats of the green fence.
Despite the close proximity of our assigned patch, a foot recce (something I always do) showed that an approach from the other direction would be necessary, so off I went around the park to come in from the right direction. We had been advised to ease in as closely as possible to the wall of the cabin next door, which is what we did as you can see.
So just what did we get for our $70 per night? In terms of park sites, this was as good as they get. It was wide, flat and covered with lush lawn. There were trees aplenty and the area immediately behind us remained unoccupied (by vans or tents that is...more of this later) and we had oodles of room for the Cruiser out the front.
But before I leave this photo, let me draw your attention to the unusual angle of the guy ropes holding down the awning roller....they were out as far as I could get them and there is a very good reason for that, which I'll explain later.
We had the shortest of walks to the heads, which were functional enough
and, had the weather been different (although it was warm enough) and the area less inundated with shrieking infants, the well maintained park pool was not much further.
Before I spin our tale of Easter woe, a quick tour of the rest of this very large park. Caravan sites are not in abundance here at Porepunkah Bridge. Cabins dominated our end of the park. Some are grey like this group,
but most are of this 'mountain hut' design with their large, pseudo chimneys.
Things were very quiet when we arrived. Our row of van sites was almost empty. This would soon change.
As I wandered about our new home it was clear that this is a park which houses many 'annuals'. There were rows and rows of them, all deserted at this time on the Thursday before Easter. The hordes had yet to descend on us.
At the end of the park some distance from our site is another set of ablutions
and the camp kitchen. It was disappointing that this facility was so far removed from where we were. Although there were other BBQs dotted amongst the cabins, they all carried signs indicating that the use of these was restricted to the occupants of cabins only.....odd we thought, but given we had other meal plans, the BBQ issue was not critical. Frankly had it been, I would have ignored the embargo and taken my chances.
Beyond these facilities, the 'top end overflow' section of the park was as devoid of life as was much of the rest of it.
One lot of early arrivals had claimed their spot
and it was here that we came across a very clever bit of park management. Paint lines on the grass in this otherwise open area designed and delineated the various sites,
whilst name notices posted on trees and whatever else was readily available identified the rightful future renters of these various patches of the camping grounds. Given what we have seen of the way in which some arrogant and inconsiderate campers spread masses of tents and other equipment far and wide beyond anything which could be considered even half way reasonable, we thought this was an extremely simple and clever way of managing what was to become a flood of arrivals.
And, in the background, as with many other places around Porepunkah and Bright, the formidable bulk of Mount Buffalo stood rampart like in the distance.
When we revisited this section of the park on our way into town a day later, how things had changed. There was barely a designated site unoccupied.
The same thing happened all over the park, not unexpectedly of course. After all we already new that this area attracted Melbournites and others like files round a honeypot at this time of the year. The annuals in their various 'homes away from home' were setting up shop for the next few days,
and those with less permanent accommodation were crowding into every available space along the prime real estate here, the banks of the Ovens River.
Did I say every available spot? We could only assume that all these folk were good friends. Here six vans and tents were jammed in together on what we saw the previous day as being only two sites at most......cosy.
It was the same story in the other park camping ground area where the tents and all the associated paraphernalia needed for a jolly holiday were popping up like the proverbial mushrooms as each new arrival staked their claim. By late Saturday certain sections of the park reminded us of the crowded nesting grounds of gannets....where each returning adult bird manages to find its own small patch in what seems to be an area of total chaos accompanied by a complete cacophony of challenging cries.
As we walked along the riverside, it was not hard to see why these sites are so popular. Apart from the views (or in the immortal words of Michael Caton @ Darryl Kerrigan of that Australian classic 'The Castle'...."the serenity") this Easter break was also the beginning of the school holidays. The kids love the river, which at this time of the year is so shallow as to present little danger to those frolicking on its rocky bottom.
Before we go any further it is time to bring to your attention two phenomena which were to become an inescapable part of our lives over the next few days.......bicycles and fires. Both bikes and firewood arrived here by the trailer load....literally.
There is an apparent and obvious obsession amongst most who come to this part of Victoria for Easter to make a camp fire an integral part of their daily lives. BBQs and spits featured prominently, and for those less well equipped, a good old brazier would have to suffice (see the previous photo of the newly arrived 'annual')
Wood was piled everywhere. Some had an obvious owner, or at least one with a very strong claim,
whilst in other places it was anyone's guess.
And I have to hand it to the enterprising locals.....by Saturday afternoon a couple of them were circumnavigating the park flogging their trailer loads of cut wood to any in need. Price seemed irrelevant. What a relief for those who had sipped port and other fine fortifieds by the flickering firelight far into the night and awoken to the cold light of dawn to find their wood supplies had been depleted well beyond the evening's ration.
I did chat to the park manager about this (they also sell firewood) to discover that over this period they cannot keep up with the insatiable demand, and are happy to allow these chaps into the park as a service to the park clients. I should add at this point we have subsequently found the same thing happening at Bright and Myrtleford....a very Victorian thing indeed.
In closing this jaunt around what is a very good park in a most delightful setting, let me return to the snippet about our unusually extended guy ropes, and what was to become the most unpleasant of stays from the point of view of personal space and peace and quite.
We did anticipate that by Friday afternoon things would become a bit willing as far as rowdy kids were concerned. We had seen it before, but nothing like this. From first light until well after 2130 hours each evening, gangs of these holiday delinquents took the view that the space under our awning and around the narrow gap between our van and the cabin next door was all public access. It got to the point that we could not open our fridge side windows because of the real fear that one of these brats would hit one of them with sufficient force to actually break it off its hinges.
As for the rest of our site....well that was just open slather. I even caught one idiot actually riding his bike between The Cruiser and our A frame and then under the guy ropes and between the chairs under our awning. He foolishly pulled up to chat to his mates at the nearby play-ground where we had a short and very sharp conversation. Needless to say, this was his first and last incursion onto our patch. I remain disappointed he obviously neglected to proffer the invitation I extended to meet his parents!
And therein lies the problem during these periods......the parents neither provide nor police any behavioural rules, they sit about having a fine old time (fair enough) but pay no heed whatsoever to the antics of their offspring.
After our first few encounters I took the unusual step of extending our awning guy ropes, to the ridiculous angle you saw, as a defensive mechanism. It did work to some extent, but I have to say that our normal enjoyment of a quiet libation and chat in the late afternoon under our awning became more of a manning of the battlements against intruders. By Monday, even the more than forgiving and placid 'live and let live Liz' could not stand to sit outside.....as she said, she didn't trust herself not to give some of these juvenile hoons a good clip under the ear.
It was so bad that we were incredibly relieved to pull up stakes on the Tuesday morning and make our way to Myrtleford. The sort of thing we had experienced is a perennial problem throughout the caravanning world, and many mangers make a real effort to ensure that some degree of reasonable behaviour is maintained....sadly here at Porepunkah Bridge there was little evidence of it.
But all this is not to say we did not make the most of our stay during the day (and we would certainly come back here again...but not over Easter or during any school holidays). Mount Beauty, Falls Creek, Wandiligong, Bright and Mount Buffalo are no longer mere dots on the map (for Liz in particular who has never been up this way before). We even enjoyed a most entertaining afternoon at the 'Punkah Pantry'.....all will be revealed.
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