Great Aussie Road Trip

The famous five assembled in Waterfall to begin their epic journey.

Mrs. White - Thelma, aka Big T

Mr. White - Judge John

Ms. Orange - Kazza

Mrs. Pink - Mags

Mr. Pink - Gazza

We headed out of Sydney, across the Great Dividing Range in our Toyota Kluger, a vehicle somewhere in between a large car and a small truck. First stop Leura in the Blue Mountains and to the Bake house on Wentworth for the first, and the best, of many Aussie meat pies. The weather was kind, clear and sunny if a little fresh. The cherry trees were in full bloom marking a riot of pink down the middle of the main street. We stopped, as everyone does, at Echo Point, where there was a magnificent, endless view of the valley, the three sisters proudly pointing to the blue sky tinged with a eucalyptus haze from the countless trees carpeting the valley.

We were heading to Newbridge, a dot of a place near Bathurst, carefully booked hours in advance by Kazza via the tourist information office. We roared into ‘town’ and found the hotel standing proudly as the only business in town. The place has been acquired by a young couple who are renovating it. We were the first guests as they had just opened the accommodation and I mean just. They were hoovering the hallway and painting the ceiling as we arrived. We had three rooms and shared the one bathroom that was basic but functional. We had a few drinks in the bar, where a small gathering of locals had made a special appearance to check out the strange tourists. John danced the night away with the owners’ 3 year old girl, Poppy. There were plenty of polite enquiries of “Why Newbridge?” and some puzzled looks.

Day 2 and we zoomed off to Griffith, a much larger country town that is a centre for fruit growing and host to some massive vineyards where a lot of the grapes for quaffable Aussie wine are grown. We drove to a nearby lookout where the huge valley floor below was covered with fruit trees and vines. We walked around some rocks and scrub to the former cave dwellings of a ‘famous’ hermit, an Italian immigrant, Valerio Ricetti who lived there from the late 1920s to 1952.

Griffith’s other major feature was a world war II Royal Naval fighter plane which is perched prominently high above a roundabout at the entrance to the main street. Why it is there is not clear. We managed a quick trip to a vineyard or a tasting where a helpful lady asked us “Why Griffith?”

We trundled on towards pretty Echuca, a town built around the transport of goods to Melbourne along the mighty Murray River using steam ships. At one time, it was the third largest port in Australia behind Melbourne and Sydney. We obligingly booked a cruise along one of these preserved ships, the Pevensey, a 100 year old wooden vessel housing an impressive Victorian steam engine at its centre that still looked brand new, although the ship itself looked barely capable of staying afloat. We spent a couple of pleasant hours steaming up and down the river passing numerous ‘house boats’ that are popular as holiday homes. They look exactly like mobile homes on land, expect with an outboard motor on the back, like a floating breeze block.

Onwards from Echuca to Beechworth, a very pretty Victorian town built on the mining boom, and now enjoying a healthy tourist trade, bolstered by the story of the infamous bush ranger Ned Kelly. Kazza, Thelma and John strolled around the museum and court house while we joined a walking tour of the town guided by a Ned lookalike. We also had a quick peak at the gaol, an impressive sand stone structure that once housed Kelly and was in use until 2005. It’s now open to tourists. We stayed in a beautiful ‘Swiss’ cottage where the log fire kept the chill away, and I barbequed sausages and lamb chops in the rain under the carport.

Final stop Ballarat, another mining town, although much larger with some impressive buildings in the centre of town. Not much more to report as we spent much of our time there in the Irish pub drinking wine and being raucous. Next day Mags and I departed for Melbourne, leaving John, Kazza and Big T heading into Sovereign Hill, a tourist attraction reliving the mining era, and then onwards to the great ocean road. Not heard from them since….?

We were guided wonderfully through the country by Serena, a stern but reassuring voice I’d downloaded into the GPS. We had only one navigation blip when she suddenly instructed me to take a right down a minor road as we approached Lockhart, although our current route appeared to take us straight into town. What the hell? It might be interesting. So we soon found ourselves turning into a dirt track. We were in a 4WD so thought we’d plough on. The steady rain that we’d driven through all day suddenly became a lot harder and the wheels started to sink into the red earth. Soon, the car was sliding about and I was having to turn right to go left a la Doc Hudson. Our slippery progress was finally halted when we encountered an abandoned car across the track. Mags and John jumped out to lighten the load (Not thinking straight there as they’re the lightest) and to direct the 3-point turn. Mags positioned herself behind to ensure that I didn’t reverse into the ditch. I went hard down on the accelerator, spinning the wheels like a dragster for traction and managing to turn us around. I looked in the rear view mirror to see Mags spitting out mud. Unfortunately, she caught up before we could escape.