Last year, just about this time, Peter and I went down to Victoria to see my sister for what we expected would be the last time. We weren’t quite right. She was recently admitted to hospital and after a couple of weeks entered palliative care. So, we set off on the 2,000km trip to say a final goodbye and start the process of winding up her estate. We managed to see her before she drifted off in the arms of death.
It wasn’t a tourist trip. We drove about 700km each day from one motel to the next. But it’s always interesting to see the changing scenery, taking pictures from the car and maybe take a photo at a spot where we took a break. We stayed in Victoria for about ten days cleaning and tidying up her house and her 2 acre property before we finally had done enough to manage probate and sale from home. So, this blog is a snapshot of ‘there and back again’.
The thing that stood out to both of us was the unrelenting rain on a couple of days. You don’t expect that in the middle of Australia. We drove down the Newell Highway through western NSW, flat, uninteresting country that was very dry the last time (many years ago) we were out that way. The clouds were spectacular, the paddocks were green, and the dams were full.
Apart from that we drove between paddocks of sheep and cattle, cotton fields, and other crops we didn’t recognise. And there was the wildlife. We saw a few emus, a very lucky kangaroo which crossed safely in front of the car just in time, and a pair of wedge-tailed eagles picking over roadkill – which fortunately was just off the road. Oh – and crows. Lots and lots of crows. And pigeons. And a few kites and several hovering falcons.
You get the idea.
We stopped for a bathroom break at Nagambie, giving me the chance to take the short walk back up the road to where Black Caviar’s statue takes pride of place.
We try to avoid driving at dawn or dusk because of the wildlife but sometimes needs must. I might have made this one a great shot if we’d stopped but we were going places. We stopped for ten minutes in Rochester, which has the most amazing silo art. Unfortunately, the light was against us. The picture of the platypus is simply stunning but the dappled shade ruined the shot. Take a look at this website to see the silos in all their glory.
On the way home we stopped for the night at Parkes in NSW where we found this statue to Henry Parkes who forged one nation (more or less when there’s no pandemic) from the six autonomous Australian states. Next morning, heading north, the country was cloaked in mist. I kept my eyes peeled for Parkes’ most famous landmark, the radio telescope featured in the movie “The Dish” about the first moon landing.
Out of Parkes heading north we drove through mist and drizzle through the Warumbungles. Siding Springs observatory was invisible, swathed in cloud.
Before we left Parkes, we had breakfast at a cafe over the road from the motel – most motels don’t offer breakfast any more. The cafe is called Deja Brew. The coffee was the best we had on the trip – really great. And the cooked breakfast was excellent, with suitably runny poached eggs. Recommended.
Which is in stark contrast to a roadhouse we stopped at for breakfast after we left West Wyalong going south. The coffee was ordinary and I think the woman doing her socials at the counter would have liked us to buy egg and bacon rolls and go away. But we wanted sit-down bacon and eggs. The food arrived in due course, offering greasy bacon, overcooked eggs and a couple of pieces of bread that had been waved in front of a heater, masquerading as toast. That one’s on the ‘avoid’ list.
After spending the night at Goondiwindi we detoured just a little on the way home to look at the silo art at Yerabon. Read all about the silos here. It’s spectacular but not as good as the silos at Rochester.
Oh, by the way, it was cold down there in Victoria. 2 degrees over night and a max of 11. Just in case we’d forgotten why we moved to Queensland.
Now we’re back home, fighting our way through the process of ending the remains of a life. Lots of people offer condolences. And yes, it’s sad to lose my last remaining sibling. But she passed gently, at 88. I think she was glad to go.