Ann and I are back home from our most recent out of town
explorations.
As regular Up Country readers may know, we went up country
to Hepburn, a small settlement out in the bush in central Victoria. (northeast
of Melbourne).
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| Bringing in the morning on the porch |
Hepburn, and Daylesford, the neighboring country town, are
culturally a bit like Sonoma area in California. Hepburn is the location of
Hepburn Springs, where Melbournites used to go to take the waters and enjoy the
mineral baths there. That era has passed, though the mineral water is still
bottled and sold, and a restoration of the baths is underway.
Daylesford and its environs is a haven for artist types,
massage and alternate health practitioners, antique stores, and boutique
hotels. It is also known for the largest gay community in Australia outside of
an urban setting. The Daylesford gay pride parade in March is well known and
celebrated. (This picture is from the equally famous, though much tamer,
Daylesford New Year’s Eve Parade).
On our first trip to Hepburn several months ago, we walked
through the bush with Maureen, our landlady. We saw an abandoned gold mine, an
old homestead cabin, and of course kangaroos. Walking the road
home we witnessed a mob of kangaroos filing through the eucalyptus gums about
thirty meters away. It was quite eerie, and reminded me of the scene in Platoon
of Viet Cong regulars passing though the jungle as US troops were getting over
run.
This time it was kangaroos silhouetted at sunset on New
Year’s eve along a far way ridge.
Our big walk this time was in to town. Ann and I decided to
walk in to Hepburn. We were staying near the dead end of Brandy Hot Road, about
five kilometers from Hepburn via the back roads. Brandy Hot Road got its name
from a roadhouse speakeasy pub that was in the neighborhood during the gold
rush days. This region of Victoria was also the Sutter Creek of the great
Australian gold rush. There is a near by town, Clunes, which in its entirety is
a National Registry Historic site. It is a still lived-in and functioning town,
but with a main street of preserved historic shops, homes, and bluestones (the
great estate homes and public buildings of wealth), sort of like a cross
between Williamsburg, VA. and Deadwood, S.D.
The walk to town was very hot. Once out on the road with a great
expanse of open bush and forest left and right, the reality of bush fires
became very apparent. On the Ash Wednesday fire in 1983 several hundred people
died and over 30,000 head of livestock perished. No known kangaroo or
koala count. There were evacuation gathering places signposted along our walk. Public
policy officially is now to evacuate before any fire even starts if certain
temperature and wind factors are reached. If you wait until there is a fire, it
is quite likely too late to get out safely from the bush communities.
No fires in the area at the time for us, but we did get to
experience a conflagration of another type, swarming blowflies. It was not nice.
I think they are called blowflies because you inevitably end up blowing one out
your nose. They seem to be drawn to white clothing, so my white shirt was an
especially attractive target. It is a bit off putting to be informed that there
are thirty plus flies hitching a ride on the back of your shirt. One soon
learns not to stress over that though. Better to have them there than seeking a
drink from your eyes, ears, or nose. We became quite proficient at what is
known as the Australian Bush Salute, a windmill waving and flapping of hands
around one’s face.
Once in Hepburn, we found refuge in the Red Star Café. Best
coffee and salt and pepper calamari salad in all Australia to be had there.
Our return to Warrnambool was a cab, airplane, bus, train,
and walk home from the station, day into evening.
Like many trips to new places, it was not long enough to do
it all, and at the same time was about a day too long.
Just right I suppose.
It was good to be home.
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