Back to Balranald may seem an odd title, but for us this was where we found ourselves on our first night out of Adelaide in what was to become our 'permanent' life on the road. We had taken our new Roma Van out for a six month trip in 2012, but 27 April 2013 marked the beginning of the current lifestyle of the Mobile Marshies.
And what a beginning it was. All our remaining goods and chattels were now in storage, our house had long since been sold (we rented for sometime) and, as our new annex sign now says, 'Home Is Where We park It'.
But we had certainly not intended to park at Balranald on day one. It's a long story (see blog dated 2 May 2013) and it was a bloody long drive.......542 kilometres to be precise. And then there was the saga of the inoperable front boot lock on arrival.
For some reason I failed to document that tale of woe in the relevant blog (I probably just wanted to forget all about it!). In short, utterly buggered and ready for nothing more than a cold beer and a hot dinner, I went to open our van front boot on our arrival. Here we carry our power cords, water hoses, sullage pipe and so on....all just a tad essential in setting up.
And guess what....the damned boot handle would not budge. Your scribe was well and truly over things by now, but needs must, so out came the tools and fifteen minutes later the boot was open, from the top.....after I had unscrewed the hinges!
We could now see that the lever which locks the boot had been jammed against the rim of one of the plastic spools on which we reel up our power cords. This had very effectively prevented it from being turned as normal....talk about a lesson learnt on day one.
Once all the required bits had been retrieved and we were hooked into power and water, we then had the task of getting the boot reattached, and that made getting it open the easy part. With Liz fighting against the pressure of the two hydraulic rods which normally support the lid when the boot is open, I finally managed to screw the hinges back in place, all with an appropriate verbal commentary I can assure you. So, nearly an hour after arrival, we finally got to sit down with a much needed refreshment. And believe me, we have never made that mistake again!
So you see, dear readers, Balranald holds something of a sentimental spot in our travelling hearts, apart from which (and this was the real upside of our day of misfortune) the caravan park here is a cracker.
Fast forward four and a half years....but today our trip was to be only half of that which took us to Balranald the first time, a mere 250 kms.
The Darlington Point dawn greeted us with the chill we had anticipated, but also presented another little bit of climatic joy.......tendrils of swirling mist which dripped off everything like an unwanted runny nose. Brrrr!
Fortunately we had very little to pack away (I had the sense to have done most of it the night before) and we set off early as planned, out over the Murrumbidgee bridge
and into the gloom.
This was one of the rare occasions on which we have had to drive with full headlights. Today they were essential as we hit the Sturt Highway, turned right
and headed out
across the foggy Hay Plains.
Fortunately the mist lifted after half an hour or so, and we pushed on under skies which threatened, but did not deliver any more meteorological mischief.
We have travelled this route several times before, so true to my new resolve.....fast forward to our arrival and our first frog.
The Balranald Caravan Park was just as we had remembered it......excellent. On this occasion we chose a different site, one at the end of a row of motel style rooms, which had the advantage of being much closer to the amenities block (and put our backs to the wind).
This park and that we had just left have at least two things in common....impressive old river bridges over the entrances and a fire pit.
Just as we had experienced at Darlington Point, the daily afternoon crackle of the flaming logs was the signal for a happy hour gathering, some larger than others!
I'll not dwell on the park itself....been there, done that, other than to highlight a couple of additions we noticed since our last stay (well we think they are new.....they did not feature in our collective memories at all).
The brightly colourful gardens in front of the camp kitchen (but one patch of several lovely plantings dotted throughout this beautiful park)
was now home to a series of quaint little metal statues,
all members of the same 'family',
each of which represents one of the 'five rivers', a feature of the locality which has now become a real focus of Balranald's tourist promotion.
With apologies for the very poor image, this is the story which goes with the 'Ned Kelly' statuette, aka 'Ned River'...the Edwards. This is very clever stuff and typical of the way in which this park is managed.
Oh, yes, and the five rivers are the Murray, Murrumbidgee, Lachlan, Edwards (Ned) and Wakool. As this chart which we found at the Discovery Centre shows, Balranald lies right in amongst them.
Speaking of the Discovery Centre, this was also something new to us. The large communications tower in the town's main street pin pointed its location.
And what an excellent job the good folk of Balranald have done in developing this award winning facility. Here there is plenty of parking, even for those towing vans,
including an excellent free camp behind it, complete with potable water and free hot showers.
The beautiful, easy care gardens
host an array of different statues, all of which are relevant to the fauna of the area,
and some of which were just slightly more whimsical than others.
Of course, this complex includes the obligatory cafe
as well as its real 'raison d'etre', the very well set up 'Discovery Centre' (read Tourist Information Centre), where an outside bench hosts yet another of Balranald's ubiquitous signature green frogs,
as does the interior of the building.
More of the frogs shortly, but now we come to the previously promised resolution of the mystery of the watering troughs.
As you can see, another of these can be found here in Balranald, sitting against the wall of the one of the several Discovery Centre buildings. This was altogether too much for your scribe...I was a now a man on a mission of discovery of a quite different kind...what are these troughs all about?
Fortunately the most informative staff member on duty was able to provide me with the entire story, and, of course, a later search on good old Google (which I probably should have undertaken in the first instance) confirmed all she told me. And what a story it is, as is reproduced here with thanks to the ever stalwart Wikipedia:
"George Bills was born in Brighton in England in 1859. He migrated with his family to New Zealand and subsequently to Echuca, Victoria in Australia in 1873. In 1882 he opened a bird dealers shop in Brisbane, where he met and married Annis Swann who had immigrated from Sheffield in England. In 1884 the couple moved to Sydney and George Bills went into business with his brothers, manufacturing innerspring mattresses. In 1908, George retired to Hawthorn, Victoria, and in 1910, Annis died while the couple were visiting England.
For some reason I failed to document that tale of woe in the relevant blog (I probably just wanted to forget all about it!). In short, utterly buggered and ready for nothing more than a cold beer and a hot dinner, I went to open our van front boot on our arrival. Here we carry our power cords, water hoses, sullage pipe and so on....all just a tad essential in setting up.
And guess what....the damned boot handle would not budge. Your scribe was well and truly over things by now, but needs must, so out came the tools and fifteen minutes later the boot was open, from the top.....after I had unscrewed the hinges!
We could now see that the lever which locks the boot had been jammed against the rim of one of the plastic spools on which we reel up our power cords. This had very effectively prevented it from being turned as normal....talk about a lesson learnt on day one.
Once all the required bits had been retrieved and we were hooked into power and water, we then had the task of getting the boot reattached, and that made getting it open the easy part. With Liz fighting against the pressure of the two hydraulic rods which normally support the lid when the boot is open, I finally managed to screw the hinges back in place, all with an appropriate verbal commentary I can assure you. So, nearly an hour after arrival, we finally got to sit down with a much needed refreshment. And believe me, we have never made that mistake again!
So you see, dear readers, Balranald holds something of a sentimental spot in our travelling hearts, apart from which (and this was the real upside of our day of misfortune) the caravan park here is a cracker.
Fast forward four and a half years....but today our trip was to be only half of that which took us to Balranald the first time, a mere 250 kms.
The Darlington Point dawn greeted us with the chill we had anticipated, but also presented another little bit of climatic joy.......tendrils of swirling mist which dripped off everything like an unwanted runny nose. Brrrr!
Fortunately we had very little to pack away (I had the sense to have done most of it the night before) and we set off early as planned, out over the Murrumbidgee bridge
and into the gloom.
This was one of the rare occasions on which we have had to drive with full headlights. Today they were essential as we hit the Sturt Highway, turned right
and headed out
across the foggy Hay Plains.
Fortunately the mist lifted after half an hour or so, and we pushed on under skies which threatened, but did not deliver any more meteorological mischief.
We have travelled this route several times before, so true to my new resolve.....fast forward to our arrival and our first frog.
The Balranald Caravan Park was just as we had remembered it......excellent. On this occasion we chose a different site, one at the end of a row of motel style rooms, which had the advantage of being much closer to the amenities block (and put our backs to the wind).
This park and that we had just left have at least two things in common....impressive old river bridges over the entrances and a fire pit.
Just as we had experienced at Darlington Point, the daily afternoon crackle of the flaming logs was the signal for a happy hour gathering, some larger than others!
The brightly colourful gardens in front of the camp kitchen (but one patch of several lovely plantings dotted throughout this beautiful park)
was now home to a series of quaint little metal statues,
all members of the same 'family',
each of which represents one of the 'five rivers', a feature of the locality which has now become a real focus of Balranald's tourist promotion.
With apologies for the very poor image, this is the story which goes with the 'Ned Kelly' statuette, aka 'Ned River'...the Edwards. This is very clever stuff and typical of the way in which this park is managed.
Oh, yes, and the five rivers are the Murray, Murrumbidgee, Lachlan, Edwards (Ned) and Wakool. As this chart which we found at the Discovery Centre shows, Balranald lies right in amongst them.
Speaking of the Discovery Centre, this was also something new to us. The large communications tower in the town's main street pin pointed its location.
And what an excellent job the good folk of Balranald have done in developing this award winning facility. Here there is plenty of parking, even for those towing vans,
including an excellent free camp behind it, complete with potable water and free hot showers.
The beautiful, easy care gardens
host an array of different statues, all of which are relevant to the fauna of the area,
and some of which were just slightly more whimsical than others.
Of course, this complex includes the obligatory cafe
as well as its real 'raison d'etre', the very well set up 'Discovery Centre' (read Tourist Information Centre), where an outside bench hosts yet another of Balranald's ubiquitous signature green frogs,
as does the interior of the building.
More of the frogs shortly, but now we come to the previously promised resolution of the mystery of the watering troughs.
As you can see, another of these can be found here in Balranald, sitting against the wall of the one of the several Discovery Centre buildings. This was altogether too much for your scribe...I was a now a man on a mission of discovery of a quite different kind...what are these troughs all about?
Fortunately the most informative staff member on duty was able to provide me with the entire story, and, of course, a later search on good old Google (which I probably should have undertaken in the first instance) confirmed all she told me. And what a story it is, as is reproduced here with thanks to the ever stalwart Wikipedia:
"George Bills was born in Brighton in England in 1859. He migrated with his family to New Zealand and subsequently to Echuca, Victoria in Australia in 1873. In 1882 he opened a bird dealers shop in Brisbane, where he met and married Annis Swann who had immigrated from Sheffield in England. In 1884 the couple moved to Sydney and George Bills went into business with his brothers, manufacturing innerspring mattresses. In 1908, George retired to Hawthorn, Victoria, and in 1910, Annis died while the couple were visiting England.
George and Annis had no children, and following the death of George
in 1927, a trust fund was set up, believed to be around ₤70-80,000. One of the purposes of the trust, as set out in George Bills' will, was to:
- "..construct and erect and pay for horse troughs wherever they may be of the opinion that such horse troughs are desirable for the relief of horses and other dumb animals either in Australasia, in the British Islands or in any other part of the world subject to the consent of the proper authorities being obtained."
Each trough cost ₤13 plus transport and installation. The majority of the troughs were installed in Victoria and New South Wales between 1930 and 1939.
Initially the troughs were individually designed and constructed,
however by the early 1930s, J.B. Phillips, a relative of the Bills,
became the head contractor. Working to a standard design he produced the
troughs in Auburn Road in Hawthorn. The troughs were pre-cast concrete with a curved pediment with the inscription "Donated by Annis & George Bills Australia".
Manufacture was subsequently handled by Rocla, who produced troughs to the same design in Victoria and later in Junee in New South Wales. With the rise of motorised transport, demand for the troughs declined and production had ceased by the end of World War II."
So, as I am ever want to say, "there you have it". Another incredible yarn from the annals of Australiana.
During the three days of this visit, we did take the time to wander extensively around the town, where we made some interesting discoveries, apart from the frogs, that is. We already knew about them, but we did find a few more had now invaded the local streets, in front of the furniture store,
the Shire Council building
and the local art gallery. Here Freddy
had also left promotional footprints on the nearby pavement.
One of the more spectacular examples of this uniquely Balranald promotional gimmick can be found on the banks of the Murrumbidgee, a short distance from the caravan park,
and we even spotted one high above the fence of the home of a local shearing contractor.
Apart from the town frogs, which are unmissable, we were struck by another equally obvious feature of the Balranald street scape (if you look hard enough). This must be the Australian capital of the garden ornament.
We reached the conclusion that to live here, and not find yourself completely on the social outer, a set of garden gnomes (one would never do),
a clutter of kitsch,
or even a red Indian or two is a mandatory domestic accessory.
Some have chosen more moderate ornamentation such as this discretely decorative owl,
whilst others have demonstrated a more artistic bent
such as this front fence lined with hand painted old plough discs.
Birds featured prominently,
in all shapes and sizes,
but for us, the grand prize for garden ornamentation went to the owners of a large house quite close to the river, where apart from anything else, one can pop in to check on the direction and distance to many Australian towns (as you do!)
This discovery presented us with yet another small mystery, one which we suspect we solved with a find at the far end of the main street.
Here we found this converted service station, now re-badged as 'Just Fill In Time', a store bursting at the seams with all manner of kitsch....a veritable Balranald gold mine for its very clever owner. We wondered if he or she created the trend or merely latched onto its potential. And then there was another question.......does the owner run or sponsor kitsch competitions?
But moving right along....this time to another town addition which displays much more gravitas. We spotted the first of these along the verge of the road leading out of our park.
It appears that the good folk of Balranald have embarked on a campaign to honour the memories of many of those from the town and district who committed themselves to conflict in the various wars in which Australia was involved.
The pictured street plaque, in this case detailing the service story of Private Michael Joseph 'Mick" Butler, a likely lad from the nearby Till Till Station where he rode the boundaries before enlisting on 30 October 1941, is but one of literally dozens and dozens of such plaques which can be found not only here in the back streets,
but right along the footpaths of the main street through the CBD.
This all reaches its zenith in front of the Balranald District Ex-Servicemen's Memorial Club,
where any approaching the entrance to the club are greeted by the sight of large upright billboards
which display a staggering amount of war related information. I soon reached the conclusion that one could easily spend at least a full day wandering to and fro reading the stories of all these folk, including the the details of their active service and the subsequent return to civilian life of those who survived.
For me, one of the most notable features of this town display was the quality of the plaques. Each is unique in its presentation and each is strikingly well done. What a most extraordinary community memorial this is.
And speaking of the Service Club, let me conclude this brief report of our second stay in Balranald with something completely out of the blue and the last thing we expected here...a sensationally good evening show.
As she had been reading something relating to the town prior to our arrival, Liz happened to pick up on the fact that a 'rock concert' was on the offing at the club on one of the nights we would be here. We had taken what we thought would be the wise precaution of pre-booking our tickets by phone (from Darlington Point....a ludicrously unnecessary precaution as you will soon learn)
and whilst roaming along the main street we popped into the club to pay for them (where I took the opportunity to snap away
whilst things were quite).
It was certainly far more lively when we arrived later for our fortnightly treat,
and settled down at a window table for a pre-show dinner in the club restaurant. Sadly I must report that the standard of the Chinese (of course) tucker presented was marginal,
but that was more than compensated for by what was to follow. We had never before heard of Dave Allen (the Australian version) and his partner in song, Ronnie Soul, but they will now remain forever etched in our memories.
Ours, but not too many others.....we could not believe it when we were ushered into the spacious entertainment hall at the back of the club.....we were two of less than twenty who had taken seats for the entertainment.
But the show must go on, and what entertainment it was. With the pony-tailed, long coated Dave taking the lead vocal role (he could sing, believe me, and a whole range of stuff at that) and his little Asian mate strumming away on rhythm guitar (they also had a very good backing system)
'Rock Around The World' began predictably enough with a stanza of old rock songs. But then it all began. Ronnie disappeared briefly to return as 'Elvis'.
He followed this up with 'Jimmy Hendrix',
an hilarious spoof on 'Chubby Checker' and 'the Twist'
and an equally funny presentation of that Scottish classic of yesteryear.....'Donald Where's Your Troosers?'
when the show did become a little risque to say the least.
These two entertained us royally for over three hours with only one break in the middle. As I said earlier, in addition to the various spoofs, these two have real performing talent and good voices. It was a night to remember and wonderfully set off all the other surprises Balranald had thrown up, probably best summed up in the incredulous words of Liz's sister, who has driven through this town innumerable times. "You had a big night out, WHERE?"
We did spent quite a deal of time wandering along the banks of the river and around the rest of the town, but it is time to move on to Paringa, the penultimate park on our return to Adelaide.
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