By the time we had completed our obligatory town toddle around Gulargambone, we were both struck by the similarities we found here with Mendooran, another small country town on the Castlereagh Highway, south of Gilgandra. It was more the atmosphere than anything specific.....one of overall general decline being confronted by a small local group determined to arrest the slide and create new attractions in the town.
And, according to Dave, even the reasons for the downturn in local fortunes were similar. Many of the smaller farm holdings, which supported numerous families, had become increasingly non-viable in the face of modern techniques with the inevitable result......takeovers and amalgamations. Over the past decades the more successful cockies have steadily subsumed the land of those less able. Improved methods reduce the need for labour. Families leave the district. The population decline dramatically reduces the need for services right across the board and a once bustling little town grinds to a commercial halt. It's a tale being told all over the country.
But, here in Gulargambone there has been something of a fightback. The results are evident all over town (and on the approach). More of that shortly.
Gulargambone is situated on the Castlereagh River, so we began our romp with a river walk. We passed the local Police Station
and surprisingly large hospital en route
to the road which took us through a town parkland area down to the river.
As we were to see later, many of the town's public utilities have been tarted up with quite stylish murals....so much more attractive than bland besser brick blocks!
This park is also home to one of the many examples of the Gulargambone galahs. Just what on earth prompted all this we wondered? An explanation is warranted.
As we had previously wondered, is there a genuine connection between the town name and the birds, or is this merely a clever play on words? Well, dear readers, it's the former.
In about 1840 an enterprising chap by the name of George Tailby arrived in the area and established a grazing property which he named Gulargambone. As with many of these names which are taken from local aboriginal dialects, the precise derivation is not clear, but there are two options in this case, both of which are 'galah related'.
'Gilagambuwan' means 'with young galahs', whilst the word 'Gillahgambone' can be translated as 'place of galah parrots'.
So in this case, ladies and gentlemen....hedge your bets! Either derivation does have a direct connection to these raucous pink and grey parrots, which, as we later saw, do congregate here in live numbers in addition to their galvanised iron counterparts.
These, by the way, are the creation of the artist Sam Newstead. The project to erect forty statues all around the town, using scrap corrugated iron, involved the entire community. It was decided that each should be two metres square and stand on poles raised two to three metres above the ground. The results are both obvious and quite spectacular, with gleaming galahs popping into view in the most unexpected places. And they have done much to keep Gulargambone 'on the map'.
But let's get on with our riparian ramble.
To our initial confusion we discovered that the 'river walk' is not along the banks of the Castlereagh, but alongside the Gulargambone Creek, a small subsidiary which joins the main stream here at this end of town.
Our second surprise for the morning came with the realisation that although the creek was nothing but a series of billabongs, some longer than others,
the Castlereagh itself was anything but a flowing stream, as this view from the road bridge so clearly demonstrates. We had read that this river, like the Gascoyne in Western Australia with which we are so familiar, does flow underground in several spots. This was clearly one of them.
As we wandered along the short river track, we did spy a few locals perched on a sandy bank above one of the pools and could only assume that these ponds still hold fish or small crustaceans worthy of capture.
Our potter along the banks ended at this muddy pond,
where the soggy river ford showed clear signs of a misjudged attempt to cross.
As we made our way out of the shallow creek depression where these deep ruts told a story of disaster, we also spotted those of the vehicle's saviour (we presume). We had some fun imaging the conversation between the bogged driver and the white knight on the tractor which pulled him free.
By now we had returned to the 'back end' of town where many of the buildings bear testament to the decline. This one in particular caught our eye, not so much for the building itself,
but more for the sign on the fence. Delusions of grandeur?
Moving right along, we strolled past the town's Men's Shed,
opposite which stands the Bawrunga Medical Centre, unremarkable in itself apart from the fact it is completely enclosed by a high, barbed wire topped fence. An underlying social tale here, we suspected.
The Gulargambone Catholic Church building was another surprise. This uncharacteristically modest place of worship has obviously replaced
its much grander predecessor, standing nearby like an ageing dowager looking down scornfully on an increasing accumulation of surrounding junk. Another sign of the times?
In this section of the town the sports grounds were in varying states of repair but obviously still viable.
The same could not be said for the Gulargambone Golf Course where both the course and the clubhouse have definitely seen better days.
On the contrary, the local bowls community is obviously thriving, with a well maintained club house standing behind equally well manicured rinks, and of course,
the sign above the entrance gate proclaimed just what we have come to expect throughout country NSW!
At this point I have to raise the subject of the Gulargambone dogs. Now I am sure there must be other towns which host howling hounds in similar numbers, but we have yet to find it.
And here there is no such thing as 'our dog'. In Gulargambone they roam the front yards in packs. Some, such as these, seemed relatively friendly
but others were mean looking bastards which left us in no doubt that any attempted entry into their domain would end with a severe gnashing of teeth.....each set of which would come on four legs!
The prize for sheer numbers went to the occupants of a house we passed whilst walking back to the main street from the golf course. Unfortunately I had no chance of capturing all these hairy hounds in one photo, but believe me when I tell you that we counted seventeen starters in this yard of complete canine chaos.
After our quick gallop around some of the back streets (to find the golf club), we were soon wandering back into the main section of town along the dirt service road which parallels the main highway,
and in no time we were back in the small public park (complete with the almost mandatory traction engine) which separates the highway
from another service road
where stands one of the town's two 'general' stores. A quick peek inside revealed that this is the epitome of a small town country store and that the good folk Ferguson do indeed proffer the range of goods advertised at the front of the shop.
This park is also home to the town kiddies' playground
and more galahs, this time in painted form adorning the wall of the public toilet.
Not only there, but on the nearby bus shelter (of all things) which we could only assume provides some form of comfort for those travelling the Castlereagh on an intrastate bus line. Search as we might there was no sign of a timetable....but it looks pretty!
Here too we found Gulargambone's tribute to those who served,
and, of course, more galahs.
From this point those not wishing to by-pass the town can toddle down its main commercial thoroughfare, Bourbah Street,
where the Star supermarket, which is run by two very swarthy and utterly charming young brothers from Sydney, provides a deal of competition to the worthy Fergusons.
Apart from the Star, the commercial activity in Bourbah Street could best be described as limited. Many of the shops are deserted,
and as this informative plaque bemoans, the present streetscape is not a patch on
what once stood here.
One bright spot along this otherwise sleepy strip (admittedly it was Easter) is the refurbished Majestic Hall which now houses the visitor information centre and a more than passable cafe and coffee shop where refreshment may be taken either inside or in the shady courtyard.
Here we found another tale of Gulargambone's history, one which spoke of destruction and rebuilding,
of various incarnations and uses, and finally of personal generosity and community endeavour.
There is much to be admired about the way in which the locals have banded together to furnish and maintain this very well run tourist facility. This photo does not do real justice the many interesting exhibits on display.For those with a thirst of a different kind, salvation is at hand a little further along Bourbah Street in the form of the somewhat oddly designed Gulargambone Hotel (there is a story here, but enough of history). We had been told that the publican here was a man of moods, but I have to say he seemed pleasant enough when a fellow camper and I put his premises to the test late on our last afternoon in the town.
And then there were more galahs!
No tour of this town would be complete without a mention of what is probably its grandest building which is home to the Presbyterian Church, a building which clearly demonstrates that here in Gulargambone, contrary to what we find in most country towns, the 'Presos' seem to be doing better than their Catholic counterparts.
And finally, even more galahs!
But this raises the question.....are there actually any living specimens in and about the town? Indeed there are, as you shall shortly see.
I can think of no better way to end a day's tramp around a town than with a fine roast dinner. It was Sunday, and Dave had been hard at it since early morning.
Not only had he been busy, but given this was actually Easter Sunday, we all awoke to find that the mythical Bunny had also been doing the rounds......Easter eggs on our picnic table no less...completely indicative of the manner in which this place is run!
By late afternoon the camp ovens in which the beef had been slowly cooked to perfection had been replaced. What self respecting camp cook would dream of serving up a dinner without damper? Certainly not Dave. We were almost ready to go. The troops were beginning to assemble in expectation.
And of course, being the park it is, we were all treated to nibbles for starters, this time delicate steamed dim sum compete with dipping sauces.
As the real Gulargambone galahs screeched and jostled high in the large gums beside the park, and the soft shadows of early evening pushed aside the slanting rays of the setting sun,
the staff lined up behind the kitchen servery and
dished up one of the best roast dinners we have ever enjoyed.
I had been curious to know why Dave began the cooking so early in the day. What did he do with the meat during the afternoon I wondered? How could it possibly be so moist and succulent after all this time?
He let me into the secret. The fine cuts of bolar roast are left standing in the marvellous juices produced by the cooking process and reheated just before serving. The result is sensational with the delicious damper coming into its own to mop up the gravy.
And there were even seconds for those so inclined....of course I was!
By the time dinner was over the camp fire was blazing, this time complete with a crystal additive which gave us gouts of blue flame jetting out of the top of yet another hollow log,
and one of the park staff emerged with two very professional looking telescopes and what proved to be a consummate knowledge of the firmament. Well, I mean, what else would we expect....this is Gulagambone after all!
How pleased we were that we had decided to extend our stay here at the expense of Nyngan. The Gulargambone Caravan Park and all that goes with a stay here had more than lived up to our expectations and all the reports we had heard about it. Will we again cruise along the Castlereagh for a return visit?.....darn right we will!
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