Roadside conversations

For some reason my legs felt rather stiff and sore this morning!

We started the day by taking the small dog for a walk along Garden of Eden Rd (carrying her through the jungle  - aka rainforest – up to the road).  This was a very pleasant walk, especially compared to battling with the trucks and bikes along Tomewin Rd.  A ute full of DPI blokes went past soon after we had started and then came back out.  The second time they stopped for a chat.  This could have been:

• rural sociability; 
• rustic curiosity; or 
• checking up on suspicious characters 

(or any combination of the above).  However it was all very friendly - after nearly 5 years we can do country bumpkin quite well.

When we got to the start of the walk (or the end of the road: your call) I took a photograph of an abandoned Kombi-type vehicle.  It was unclear whether this was the jungle taking over or a deliberate bit of artistry.

At some point in this expedition I scored a photo of a spider - one of the very few we saw on this trip.

Just as we started to drop down through the jungle Frances noticed an echidna wandering across someone's lawn.  As well as the echidna, this shot shows the thatched roof over the cabana next to a pool: such an approach would be very unusual on the South Coast but fairly common up here (which probably says something about the relative ease of gathering palm fronds).

Then in to Murwillumbah for this and that.  This included me checking my emails and Frances sussing out the op-shops.  I took a few snaps of the more interesting architecture in the main street. 

When I got back to the car after that - Frances was sitting in the car doing quality assurance on a date scone- some guy was standing beside the car yelling at her.  Was he a National Party supporter objecting to us not driving a V8 ute?  Nope, all was cool: he was an honest electrician (possibly still a National Party voter, although the word honest may have to be retracted in that case) working on the shop outside which we were parked and he wanted to bag our spot when we left.  He was having to yell because the windows were up!

Frances commented that the punters of Murwillumbah – at least represented by those in the street and the op-shops - seemed a tad down-market compared to Woolgoolga.  I suspect her sample wasn’t exactly unbiased but it being court day probably didn’t help!  (The latter judgement was by me, having seen all the smartly dressed lawyers and their not-quite-so-well dressed clients sitting outside an edifice labelled ‘courthouse’.)

We headed off and as we went along had some discussion about how to get to our destination.  I knew it was in one direction and Frances kept talking about it being in another.  This became clarified when we realised I was heading for Liquorland while Frances was interested in the whereabouts of the Regional Art Gallery.  Since we went to both, this was really a question of priorities.

Liquorland seemed to offer what was needed (ie beer and red wine) for a reasonable number of shekels.  The only interesting bit there was a brand of beer called something like “Ïron Bar” complete with a picture of someone looking rather like Chesty Bond on the carton.  On reading the carton closely it turned out to have been brewed in Vietnam!

The Tweed Regional Gallery was a ripper (Frances rated it as the best Regional Gallery she had visited).  Rather large and with several display spaces.  One had a collection of Indigenous Artist prints with just about every big family (and most areas except the desert and Kimberly) represented.  That turns out to have been a touring exhibition from the Australian Maritime Museum.  They also had the Olive Cotton Photographic portrait competition which is run through this Gallery.  A very interesting set of work, including explanation of the various types of printing used (NGA take a hint).  The Gallery also specialises in collecting portraits and an excellent display of them around.  (I initially thought this was the Archibald on tour, but the quality was too high.) 

One work which seemed to go against categorisation was representations of each State’s floral emblem.  It was interesting that 7 of the 8 had labels of the form <State name> <vernacular flower name> <scientific flower name>.   In a display of typical arrogance the 8^th just had “Waratah” “Telopea speciosissima”.  Of even more interest was that the material used to create these works was cane-toad skin!

To top this off I stepped outside and noticed a large farm dam which managed to add three species to the trip list (of which Forest Kingfisher was the pick since they are supposed to have migrated away by now). 

Going outside also let me get a snap of some rock sheep.  Mounts Cougal form the far background.

As we passed back across the plain on the way home we got some photos of the after effects of canefield burning and stubble burning as it happens.

I took a walk up the road to get some snaps of this and that which I had noticed on my camera-challenged run.  The second image was not taken in Queanbeyan (perhaps this is something to do with names starting with 'Que..?).   If that was a crash from the road, I doubt if anyone survived this 20m drop.

 Mission accomplished, and as I was walking back a Ford Laser pulled up beside me.  It appeared to contain 5 lads whose appearance (such of it as could be seen around the sunnies and hoodies worn by most of the 5) and accents suggested they may have just come from Friday prayers.  The conversation went as follows:

• Driver “Excuse me, does this road go to Nimbin?”
• Me “Yes follow the road into Murwillumbah and there are signs to Nimbin.  Follow the road to Uki.”
• Front passenger “Ah.  Thanks mate.”
• Voice from back seat “Do they sell a lot of weed in Nimbin?”
• Me “I believe they have been known to do so.”
• Omnes “Ha ha ha!”

and off they went.  Obviously I am safe from charges of impersonating a police officer!

By this time the sky had become clouded over, and a couple of hours later it was drizzling when I put Tammie on the lead for a toilet stroll.  The moister weather had got the toads out, as I realised when I looked down and saw her nose to nose with one.  Fortunately she didn’t seem to realise what it was so didn’t try to eat it: cane toads are poisonous.  The required first aid is to stick a hose in the dogs mouth and make it vomit up the eaten material.  Trying to get Tammie to open her mouth when she doesn’t want to is a task removed from the labours of Hercules as being too hard!