Drawing on my extensive knowledge of Hindi, I can reliably inform you, dear reader, that the odd sounding name 'Porepunkah' comes from that language. It means 'gentle breeze'. You may well challenge the first assertion, but the second is completely accurate!
And indeed during our stay the breezes were gentle....mere mountain zephyrs in fact. Light winds are normally a delight for those of us under canvas of some sort or other (in our case the awning), but when the smoke from a thousand camp fires hangs heavy in the cooling evening air, the odd waft or two of something in the order of 30 knots would have been uncommonly welcome!
But enough of the gripes. Porepunkah, a small township of some 1,000 souls, nestled as it is along the banks of the picturesque Ovens River and a mere 6 kms from Bright, is indeed as it is promoted as being, a 'gateway to the Alps'.
I think it is fair to comment that Porepunkah is now almost a 'suburb' of Bright, and many who make this lovely place their home actually work there or in Myrtleford. And why not....it is a delightful place and only a very short commute to either larger centre. So let us share it with you and take a wander through the town and along the banks of the river.
The Porepunkah Bridge Caravan Park is aptly named. The upper camping ground of the park lies almost directly under Hoopers Bridge
where a path conveniently took us out of the park
and onto the bridge across the Ovens.
From here we could see upstream where the (currently!) placid waters run alongside a lovely linear park, and
in the other direction we could look down on the riverside sites of the caravan park we had just left.
At the end of Hoopers Bridge we took our lives in our hands and scampered across the highway in the first available gap in the incessant line of holiday traffic (none of which was travelling at the assigned 60 kms) to make our way into the tiny Porepunkah CBD.
But, on this occasion, rather than walk along the roadway past the town oval and baseball ground,
and the line of these magnificent trees (and another set of road speed signs which were completely ignored by 95% of the traffic entering the town)
we took the path on this side of the bridge and made our way down to the river's edge with yet another view of Mount Buffalo in the background.
The short linear park on this side of the river has been designed to cater for folk of all ages, but particularly for youngsters with its playground,
and shaded toddlers' pool, now empty after the passing of the summer season.
In this section of the river, during the summer months, lifeguards are on duty to look after the many who flock here to splash about in the river pools. At this time of the year, when the summer dry has taken its toll and the winter rains and snow melt are yet to swell the river, it can be forded by foot at almost any point. The concept of swimming holes seemed quite odd, but I have actually seen this river in full spate during the winter and can attest to the fact it is then a vastly different beast from the benign trickle we were looking at today.
A good amenities block complements the BBQ and picnic areas in the park This entire facility serves to encourage visitors to enjoy Porepunkah during the summer months as well as the more popular winter skiing season.
The roadway past the park leads up to the small cluster of commercial buildings which comprise the town's CBD.
The central hub of Porepunkah is anything but a teeming metropolis. It begins with the local primary school hidden away behind what must be considered a hallmark of this town.....massive shade trees.
Next to the school stands a charming private residence, again almost lost behind its screen of large, leafy trees.
Then we come to the quirkily named 'Punkah Pantry'. Here one can sit down for coffee and cake, browse through and/or purchase an array of local products, hire a bike, snaffle a souvenir or, later in the day, enjoy one of their very tasty pizzas. And for those with a thirst, a very good range of beers, wines, ciders and spirits, both locally and more broadly sourced, is available for consumption on site or take-off. We'll be back here later.
Immediately next door to 'the pantry' is one of those 'jack of all trades' enterprises not uncommon in small country towns. Here in this one building we have the local ski hire shop, the Post Office outlet, the service station and the local take-away. This is real one stop shopping.
And even a a tiny town like Porepunkah must have a pub. Unfortunately it was not open for business during our stay.
It had just been taken over by two local chaps (one a wine maker, the other the local electrician) who were working flat out stripping the interior to refurbish the entire place. At the rate they were going, from what we saw, they'll be up and running in no time. No doubt the Punkah Pantry's liquor sales will suffer considerably when that happens but I'm sure some accommodation will be reached between the two businesses.
And that, dear friends, is that....we have reached the end of the sprawling CBD of swinging downtown 'Porpy' (well almost). Needless to say all who live here do their serious shopping either in Bright where there are both Woolies and a good IGA, or in Myrtleford.
We had taken in the short walk along the 'main drag' almost by default....we were actually embarked on the longer 'Porepunkah River Circuit', a goodly stroll up and back along either side of the Ovens River. Before we reached the open spaces we did pass the final two commercial enterprises located in this part of town.
Matts Garage is a somewhat ramshackle affair, but from what I later saw I suspect Matt can fix anything. The sign above his verandah carries the old Ford emblem, that which was used in the heyday of those awesome Ford GT's.
And with good reason. This is but one of several of these thundering V8's dotted in and around Matt's premises.
I had a chat to the man himself who was pleased to tell me he had just come back from a 'show and shine' in Geelong during which his fuel consumption had been better than one of his customers who is complaining bitterly about her thirsty Audi. We then had a big chuckle when he went on to say that much of her ire stemmed from the fact that she had traded in her BMW for the same reason. I Ieft Matt with the thought that if she can afford cars like these, her fuel bill should be the least of her problems...he rather liked that idea!
Opposite the garage is the well known Porepunkah Rail Trail Cafe. As its name suggests, it is a recognised stop along the quite extensive bike riding trail of the same name, and at this time of the morning on Good Friday it was doing a roaring trade.
If what we had seen arriving in our caravan park had not been enough to convince us of the popularity of bicycles in the high country, a stroll past this cafe certainly did.
And more still were unloading. Cyclists were to become the bane of our touring lives here over the next few days, but I'll have more to say about that in later missives.
For us, on good old 'shanks's pony, we finally found the informative sign which gave us some idea of what we were up to. The 'Jack Dean' swing bridge was our next target.
To get there we had to initially walk along the shared trail heading out of town, which, as we had expected, was 'very shared'...constantly.
This runs parallel to the river, but some distance from it. Between us was a row of houses, all situated to take advantage of a river frontage (we think....we could not actually see that far, but why else would you build here?).
They came in all shapes and sizes...contemporary,
two storey gabled
and in traditional alpine style.
Our unanimous pick was this grand old place set well back from the road on large, open
grounds, where the owners, the local lawn mowing contractors, had dressed up the front yard
with all manner of galvanised iron animal statues, on the lawns
and the front paths and verandah. For some reason this collection, of what could be real kitch, seemed to work in this setting. We loved it.
We plodded on. Where on earth is this bridge? Surely that's not it. It wasn't, but here I remembered the name of a small lane which should be near a track to the river.
Still unsure, we took a punt. (it probably would have been a good idea to have brought the map!) This seemed to be going in the right direction.
It was. Although there were no track markers or other signs this all looked sufficiently well trodden to encourage us to continue. This small bridge across what we hoped was a local tributary of the Ovens
took us onto a reasonably well defined trail through some pretty thick scrub. "Fingers crossed, Lizzie".
We pressed on, despite the fact we still had no sight of the river itself. We were more than encouraged by this stretch infrastructure
and sure enough, just over the crest, here it was. We had found Jack Dean's memorial river crossing, and at last, the river itself.
One of several Porepunkah caravan parks is located on the opposite bank. Like ours, there was barely breathing space here, but unlike our park, those here might be able to just hear the Ovens babbling below them, but they certainly could not see it...the banks are far too high at this point.
We duly crossed the bridge, stopping just long enough to take in the view upstream
before reaching the path on the other bank
where we were more than encouraged by this small sign on the park fence. That's where we want to go!
The trail on this side of the river was much more user friendly,
and from many spots along here we could do what we came to do....see the river.
This ramble is really worth doing. Much is made in the tourist blurb about the beauty of the Ovens River, and we both agreed that it is not overstated.
Then we stumbled on a real surprise and a trip back in history was before our eyes. I am more than peeved that, despite numerous subsequent local enquiries, I have not been able to discover the story behind this obviously old livery stable and (I suspect) adjoining tavern. Why more is not made of this for visitors is totally beyond me, but at least we had seen it and could use our imaginations.
A short distance beyond this relic of the past we came to what appeared to be a slightly deeper section of the river. Now we had heard that there were trout to be caught here, but I had been sceptical. More fool me. Despite my many efforts, I was completely unable to capture on film what we could see from the banks....several fine looking fish lazing about in this pool of clear mountain water (it is crystal clear despite its brown appearance, which is actually a reflection of the river bed)
I was disappointed that the length of our stay precluded having a crack at these very tasty fish. I even have a bonza recipe for 'trout almondine' and can modestly attest to the fact that I can actually handle a fly rod without making a complete fool of myself. Another day, perhaps.
By now we had almost reached the end of this part of our walk. The buildings of Porepunkah main street were in view.
But before we crossed the river again, there was another treat in store in the form of this extraordinary old riverside picnic spot, where below the terracing
we found this most odd looking stone shelter shed, complete with roof vegetation and a Lizzie version of 'where's Wally'! We could only hope that those who went to all the trouble to built this quaint riparian retreat had plenty of time to enjoy the fruits of their labours. And again, we could not understand for the life of us why this quaintest of places was not complemented by some explanatory signage.
And so it was that we found ourselves back at the starting point of our river ramble at the pedestrian bridge on the other side of which is the notice board telling us what we would find. What a delightful way to see the river and hopefully shed a kilo or two!
One final note (pun intended) before we leave the little township of Porepunkah itself. I mentioned earlier that we did spend a very pleasant Easter Saturday afternoon at the Punkah Pantry where we had come to be entertained by 'Rudi and Friends'. Liz and I love live music and will grasp any opportunity to join an audience. Some of these experiences have been less than uplifting, but as the old saying states, 'you'll never, never know if you never never go'.
We had no idea what to expect, but we were determined to have the best seats in the house. As it was we could take our pick when we arrived. The sub-plot for the afternoon was to also nibble away at a few examples of the local product of the vine, so we were quite happy to sit and sip for a time,
gazing at the nearby mountains on this beautifully clear, warm autumn afternoon. And I must report at this juncture that the local sav blancs and bubbles were more than acceptable (we were here for quite a while!)
As 1700 hours approached the crowd began to build.
Rudi arrived, set up his kit,
and was soon plying his trade. Rudi has talent. His voice might leave a bit to be desired on occasions depending on his choice of song, but his fingers flew over the fret board in a display of consummate guitar playing skill.
The afternoon sun was gleaming in the wine glasses
when Rudi was joined by 'one friend'. Now things really did take off.....this local lass (we actually later had a chat to her parents) has a brilliant voice and the two of them entertained us right royally.
This was one of those occasions on which both the wine and the music more than met our expectations, as did the excellent gourmet pizzas we used as 'blotting paper'. We repaired back to 'camp chaos' most reluctantly. The Punkah Pantry now holds a special spot in our memories, right alongside 'Barrels' in Sawtell.
Next we travel further afield to see what Falls Creek and Mount Buffalo have to offer outside the snow season.
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