Sunrise, sunset (Mudgee, NSW)

Surprise dear reader, we are back, for one post only. I know I don't usually post when it's just a weekend away, but, well, it's Jayne's birthday trip and we are in NSW. Unusual outside of COVID season. Warning, this is a long post because it covers 4 days.

We opted against swimming this morning and took our time getting organised for the long weekend away. I was reading through the reviews of our "off the grid" accommodation last night. In all, 288 reviews with an average score of 5/5. Pretty tidy. Check it out, Gawthorne's Hut. One of the reviewers recommended visiting First Ridge wines. We'd never been there before so that would be our first target.

The traffic was light, heading out of the city and stayed that way, all the way to Mudgee. We needed to stop for petrol so Jayne did an internet check and discovered we could fuel up at Lithgow for $190.9 per litre, a saving of 0.29c per litre. The fuel price cycle has always been a mystery to me, but to have fuel cheaper in the country, where I had always been told there were freight costs, is even more confusing.

Somewhere over the mountains, the wind whipped up and the temperature dropped down as low as 7° and really struggled to get back into double figures, even as we reached the tablelands. Thankfully the fire was going at First Ridge as we dropped in for our first 'walk-in' wine tasting since COVID.

First Ridge Wines

First Ridge specializes in Italian grape varieties. We bypassed the frizzante style wines and prosecco and went straight to the still whites. They make a very nice Vermentino and Pinot Grigio, both of which accompanied us to our accommodation. The Rosé was beautifully dry in typical Provence fashion, and yes I know that is in France.

The reds were strong. The Sangiovese was light and flavoursome and the Barbera was billed as the "wine you need in your life". Agreed. We bought 3. Sadly for us, the one I was really looking forward to tasting, the Montepulciano, was sold out. The new vintage is yet to hit the tasting room. Maybe next week or the week after?

A nice welcome to Gawthorne's Hut.

It was a short drive to the Hut in Mudgee wine country. Near the old Frog Rock Winery for those of you with long memories. We successfully negotiated the two gates and the lock box that held the key and sought refuge inside. The weather had turned. the wind had picked up further and brought with it squalls of rain. The attendant at the servo in Lithgow had predicted snow for later in day. We won't get that here but it would not be pleasant outside. Time to light the fire.

Some of the locals.

Jumbucks -The Woolpack Hotel

Dinner, my dear reader, was at the Woolpack Hotel. They advertised an "Asian fusion" restaurant incomprehensibly called Jumbucks. It looked pretty much like old school Chinese to me and I have been craving the type of Chinese food I consumed as a youngster. So it was a 'no brainer'. The pub was packed, it was Joker night and the jackpot was over $6,000 (Cait would have been excited, reminiscing about Redfern Tudor days). There was a table of 'Karens' (sorry Karen, you are not included in this stereotype) who were consuming cocktail after cocktail and getting increasingly more vociferous.

Meanwhile, the restaurant, or adjoining room, was doing a roaring trade in take-away, a good sign. Perhaps. If you are eating Chinese from the '70s and '80s, what do you order? The options were many, but there was only 2 of us so we limited our order. Prawn toast, boneless lemon chicken, honey king prawns and special fried rice. And a bottle of wine from the bar that was at cellar door prices - nice.

The prawn toast was just like I remembered, thin, tasteless and served with a sweet and sour sauce that was coloured toxic red. An excellent start. The mains were enormous. Way too much for us and equally as disappointing. The boneless lemon chicken was the winner on the night although it could have done with more sauce. The prawns were not drowning in honey but in stodgy batter. The rice was good - no peas. That's a real bonus.

Anyway, I have been cured of my craving for Chinese. The wind kept up and ensured the temperature stayed down. We headed back to the hut to stoke up the fire and savour the complimentary red that awaited us on arrival.

The view down the valley, from the bed.

Gawthorne's Hut

The hut itself is beautifully appointed. It is in the shape of half an A frame. The sloping roof faces north and features 20 solar panels that are responsible for the powering of everything in the hut: fridge, hot water, air conditioning, lights and power. The main door faces east and is without blinds or curtains. From the hand made wooden king bed you can look east past the fire pit and bbq, across the dam and down the valley. An uninterrupted view.

The fire pit.

The southern wall shields the open plan bathroom and toilet. The western wall reaches up to around 5 metres at the apex. It begins as a blank wall to encompass the fire place and the kitchen area and opens out to 3 metre sliding doors/windows. There is a bar top with stools that overlook the grazing the cattle and the hills surrounding Mudgee. The glass extends into the bathroom where a full sized bath and rain shower sit next to each other. The glass here slides open to provide that outdoor feeling. There are blinds on these windows just in case you are concerned about the local cows checking you out while you shower.

Looking back at the hut.

The temperature went as low as 3° overnight but the hut is well positioned to keep the warmth it draws in from the afternoon sun. I also had the slow combustion fire burning all night so we didn't feel cold at any stage.

The view from the breakfast bench.

The hut became light not long after 6:30 am. Sensibly Jayne had closed the blinds on the northern wall. They are low to the floor and allow you to see out the window when in bed, but this is where the sunshine comes from after it peeps over the top of the hill.

Plenty of solar power.

It was 3° outside at 7 am but the temperature felt like -1° due to the wind chill. As we had nothing really planned for the day except lunch, a lazy morning around the fire seemed in order. It was quite nice to be able to relax and do nothing; the last trip away did not afford that luxury.

After Jayne evicted the resident ants who had muscled in on our bread overnight, we breakfasted on toast, farm fresh eggs and plunger coffee. The latter two ingredients supplied as a part of the stay.

Our Chow - The Mudgee Catering Company

A late lunch at Our Chow was scheduled for 1:30 pm. The reviews had all been positive, but again, it was something on the road in to Mudgee. We had never stopped on the way in because we were heading to accommodation and we'd never paused on the return journey because we were heading for home. Much like First Ridge Wines, I think we need to pay more attention to what lies on the road to Sydney.

There were still a few tables occupied when we arrived and more people followed after we were seated. They passed the coffee test with flying colours. The food, a BLT and cheese soufflé were huge and delicious. The BLT arrived with a steak knife and this was not overkill. We booked for tomorrow morning so we can sample their scones.

Preparing the nest for the coming season.

Back at the hut, the fire was still burning slowly away and the temperature inside was most pleasant. Although too soon for snacks, it was champagne time and, as it is Jayne's birthday, a bottle of Larmandier-Bernier Rosé de Saignée was produced from the fridge. The sun was shining but the wind was still gale force and we sipped our bubbles inside by the fire.

The wind continued and the fire burned while we swapped to red wine and made use of the Bluetooth speaker. Finally we broke out the cheese, biscuits, prosciutto, capsicum, you know the drill. The Bluetooth speaker kicked on through playlist after playlist as the clouds scudded across the sky and obscured the stars. Maybe tomorrow night.

An unexpectedly beautiful sunset.

The fire burned itself out overnight but the morning arrived without the wind that has buffeted us for the last few days. Another lazy commencement to the day watching the neighbouring cows and listening to the birds until it was time to head back to Our Chow for our brunch of scones and coffee. The coffee was still up to standard and the scones were good but I've had better. As the weather had improved, we sat outside on the verandah to avoid the the two large parties inside. The children attached to the people inside wandered out at various stages to kick around the many soccer balls that littered the grass area. The World Cup might be lost but the Matilda effect lives on.

Another visitor. It was a busy tree.

Interestingly, Our Chow shares its premises with Burrundulla Wines. The family that operate the winery maintain they have been there since 1821. This morning Our Chow was packed and we watched people come and go while we enjoyed our scones, the sunshine and the still conditions. But no-one, not one single person made their way into the winery side of the building. We have never tried their wines so I am not in a position to comment, but by sheer weight of numbers and curiosity you would expect some trickle effect from one side of the building to the other, but no.

Look closely, he's emerging from the nest.

Then it was back to the hut where we have to make the life changing decision about what to do in the afternoon. Do we head back into town for lunch/dinner or do we stay at home, light the fire, drink wine and generally laze about? It's a tough one. While pondering this, the wind has picked up again so there is little chance of an outdoor fire again tonight.

Time to head for home.

We whiled away the afternoon sipping on a Chardonnay and playing Scrabble. To the death. As we did in our younger days. The games were always closely fought and this was no different. The sun dipped, the bottle was emptied, the fire was lit, indoors. The outdoor fire was contemplated briefly as we watched the kangaroos and wallabies on the hillside. The air had a definite chill so it was back inside to enjoy the last hours in the hut.

Not quite as spectacular as last night.

The sunrise this morning was best observed from down within the covers of our bed. There was mist across the valley and just enough colour in the sky to drag me from the warmth for a photo opportunity. Today's title Sunrise sunset is from Fiddler on the Roof from 1971. I was going to hyperlink it but no-one needs that in their life.

A misty Mudgee morning.

It didn't take long to pack and we drove into town to the Mudgee Bakery for a brekky pie before we headed for Sydney and the traffic, sirens and jackhammers. I rate their pies. We'll be back to Mudgee and Gawthorne's Hut and the bakery and the wineries. Probably not to Jumbuck's though. We love Mudgee and have been constant visitors since the 1970's.

And that is about it. The next trip is late October through to mid-November when we're travelling in Vietnam and Cambodia.

Until then.

Closing Time (Ubirr,Bark Hut,Humpty Doo, Darwin)

Hello, dear reader, and congratulations on making it to the end of the journey. This will be the last post for a while and will feature more photographas than paragraphs. Blessed relief, I know.

A pandanus nut.

A 7am breakfast. Not quite a sleep in but that is just around the corner. Breakfast done, bags on board, we headed to the bus for the drive to Ubirr, an area that boasts some of the world's best rock art. This is part of the reason that Kakadu has attained dual World Heritage status - according to the Parks Australia website.

I just liked the look of it in the morning light.

The paintings document the indigenous peoples' interaction with the environment largely through the depiction of x-ray art. Most of these paintings are comparatively recent, dated to around 1,500 years BCE, although that is even before there were kings in England. About the same time as the demise of the Roman Empire. There is also a depiction of a Thylacine (Tasmanian Tiger) that is older because the Thylacine is believed to have become extinct on mainland Australia around 2,000 - 3,000 years ago, possibly as a result of the arrival of the dingo from SE Asia. 

I know I've enthused and clichéd my way around the rock art sites, but they are truly breathtaking in their exquisite detail, considering their age. The red ochre leaches into the rock surface and lasts longer than yellow or white, to the extent where you start to recognise the red ochre bleed on rock walls and start to look for art even if it isn't signposted.

A white man.

There were times when standing on the ground, looking up underneath an outcrop, we wondered how they painted all the way up there. The belief, of course, is that the depictions were placed there by the spirit ancestors. Or they popped down to Kennards and hired a cherry-picker.

This was at 10 metres off the ground. On the ceiling, not the wall.

Within the Ubirr site is a lookout that required minor scrambling to reach the top of the sandstone plateau. The 360° views were well worth the scramble.

A Black-necked Stork (Jabiru) on a neighbouring outcrop.

We stopped for lunch on the edge of Kakadu before our next stop, Bark Hut. According to their promotional material, it is a "must-see historic icon of the Northern Territory". It was built in the "wild era of buffalo and crocodile hunting and is now the central hub of discovery for the Mary River Wetlands and Kakadu National Park". So they say.

Lunch companion #1

Companion #2

Ok, it's a pub. An old pub with accommodation and a general store. It also has a resident crocodile, a buffalo and allegedly, a snake. The croc and buffalo were easily spotted in their enclosures, the snake not so much - if it existed. Doubts were expressed.

Exquisite detail.

Back on the road, we drove through Humpty Doo, interesting only because of its name and the fact that people, avoiding city life in Darwin, have moved out here. There is much speculation as to where the name originates. Speculation but no agreement.

The Rainbow Serpent.

It was then on to Darwin, the Hilton, shopping, coffee, dinner to farewell our new friends and guides and finally a sleep in. Our flight home was at 1:30pm and our transfer wasn't until 11:30am - most civilised.

The drive to the airport was interesting. It was in a Tesla X. Very cool and most unexpected.

The flight was late leaving but unremarkable and we were chauffeured home courtesy of APT.

A Redfern sunset. Home again.

Our next major trip dear reader is in October/November. We're off to Vietnam and Cambodia. Before then we are having a few days away to celebrate Jayne's birthday. There may be a post or two about that - we'll see.

Thank you for sharing our journey. One last farewell, it's closing time, last drinks people. Enjoy Closing Time by Semisonic from 1998.

Bobo.

Crocodile Rock (Arnhem Land, East Alligator River, Hawk Dreaming, NT)

I know you've been waiting for this title dear reader, it was an inevitability given all the references to crocodiles. At some point I had to go with the obvious and reference Elton John's classic song from 1973. You know you love it, enjoy. And yes, I'm pretty certain I've used it before but with almost 400 posts I'm not backtracking to see where or when.

Before I dive too deeply into today's exploits I just wanted to make an observation or two. Firstly, some of my commentary will probably be overtly political in the remaining few posts. Yes, I know, my long suffering reader, I have always been political. I'm just flagging it. If you don't like my politics, well, too bad, it's my blog, write your own or go watch Sky News.

Secondly, since we crossed the border into the NT, one of the major differences between here and WA has become blindingly obvious. In the NT, the legacy, the history and story of the first peoples of Australia are put right to the fore and celebrated. In WA it appears as an afterthought or at best, tokenism. Except in Durack country. Nothing existed before the Duracks. I'm sure I read that in Genesis.

As supporting evidence of my previous assertion, I tender the expected announcement, as reported by the ABC this week, from the WA Government (Labour ... shame) to repeal the Aboriginal Cultural Heritage Act 2023. It was enacted in July 1, 2023. Last month. They are reverting to the previous act that allowed the destruction of Jukkan Gorge by Rio Tinto. Cool and normal.

Anyway ... you've been warned.

We had something close to a sleep in, a 7am breakfast. Luxury, particularly after the excitement of our smoke alarm. The local blue-winged kookaburras were hanging around hoping for some kitchen scraps. It was not to be.

They are so much more colourful in flight.

Today we are travelling from Kakadu, across the East Alligator River, into Arnhem Land. Our regular guides were getting some well deserved downtime and we were punted to a "local" guide. Local is an interesting word. He was local to the extent that he had lived in the NT and was available, but not local in that he now lived on the NSW north coast and was born and raised in Sydney.

Like most of the guides we had come across, he was well versed in information to share about the local wildlife, the indigenous art works, the geography of the area and so on. He was also happy to share his thoughts on the upcoming Voice referendum as well as his perspective on the Aboriginal people. While everyone is entitled their own twist on how they view the world, it never ceases to amaze me how many people in this country want to make money out of the Aboriginal history and culture of this land and yet are happy to deride them. I've seen and heard it so often before. It is tedious. And generally ill informed.

It's the same with the misinformation being spread about the Voice. No really. OK, not now.

The truck/bus we were spending our day in, was not as big as our regular vehicle so two of us had the fortune, good or otherwise, to travel upfront. The roads in Arnhem Land weren't any better than any others we'd been on recently but being in the front cabin made the ride marginally smoother. Greg, my co-passenger and I decided we would coordinate our body/head sways lest we collide and give each other concussion. We rocked. We rolled. We bounced. We survived. Unharmed. Greg (not the driver) is a champion.

Sandstone worn smooth by the original inhabitants.

We crossed the East Alligator River at Cahills Crossing, a causeway that notoriously attracts tourists who are keen to be crocodile bait. I would have waited to watch that, but we were on a timeline. The river is so named because explorers were often stupid, oh sorry, poorly educated. This incorrect naming of the river system because of a lack of knowledge has remained unchanged. Why? The usual bureaucracy. When it was realised that the animals in the water were crocs, not alligators, some bean-counting desk-jockey said it would too difficult and expensive to change the name. So it remains. Gotta love Straya.

It's very different country in Arnhem Land.

First stop after crossing the river was to view some indigenous art. This country is so different. Sandstone cliffs and plains that go on forever. Waterways that look tranquil but harbour hungry locals. Real locals, not those visiting, armed with a rote-learned script. It's best not to ask too many questions, going off-script can induce panic. Or bullshit. Or both.

I'm just pretending not to notice you. Come closer.

There is an obvious shift in the style of painting from the Gwion Gwion art of the Kimberley to what is often referred to as x-ray art because of the incredible amount of detail included in the work.

Barramundi. Yum.

Arnhem Land, like most of the country we have travelled through, is stunning. It is home to an amazing array of flora and fauna. It is also home to burgeoning numbers of feral animals. I mentioned the cane toads earlier, today we saw wild horses and buffalo. While we didn't see any feral pigs, although the damage they cause is evident everywhere and has a major impact on the condition of the roads.

Are you looking at me?

It seemed like there were artworks on every rock surface, telling the story of generation after generation of the first inhabitants of Australia. Around 65,000 years of continuous association with the land. Absolutely amazing and yet we dismiss it out of hand. We get more excited about pyramids or some aqueducts built by the Romans. It is high time we recognised our own people and the contribution they have made to the world. A population that lived in harmony with the land and the water, until Europeans arrived. They have much to teach us still and we have so much to learn.

One area we visited had been tagged as the Indigenous Olympic site because it was where spear throwing contests were held. I can't vouch for the validity of this, but the rock they aimed at had multiple spear points embedded high up in a crevice. It might not have been the Olympics, but it would have taken skill, talent, athleticism and strength to leave a spear point behind in the rock.

Look closely. Truly amazing!

Around us, as we travelled in different areas of Arnhem Land, the cool burns continued and smoke rose lazily in the distance to remind us that land was still being cared for by its original owners. 

We stopped at Gunbalanya to check out the art gallery and to have lunch by the river. It was a beautiful spot and the water was enticing on such a hot day. While we couldn't see the crocodiles, we knew they were there and were probably watching, as we enjoyed a meal of Pad Thai noodles, again provided by the talented Rung.

Not as tempting as it seems.

Back on the road, we visited more art sites on the way back to Kakadu and Hawk Dreaming where we were staying.

Speaks for itself.

While I enjoyed Arnhem Land immensely, I would have been much happier had our guide been indigenous. I don't know why this tends to be a rare occurrence, but an indigenous guide adds so much more to the experience. Their reflection, their thoughtfulness in every response, the fact that they are not just parroting a learned script, makes such a difference. If you doubt that, ask a guide a question that takes them off-script. A good guide will admit their deficit of knowledge. Most will bluster, bullshit and carry on. I've travelled with both. The latter is more common. Sadly. However, you can't challenge them, no, no, no. That's how the system works. You just sit quietly and know they are wrong.

A grindstone below one of the artwork overhangs.

Our day was not done yet. After a brief respite we were heading to the rock formation that gave its name to the lodge, Hawk Dreaming. Before that, Rung decided to put some food out for the Blue-winged Kookaburras. That got me very excited. And, just quietly, pretty happy with the photos below.

Is that the dinner bell?

Watch your fingers.

Brilliant colours.

Hawk Dreaming, the lodge, was named after the Whistling Kites that constantly circle the nearby outcrop of sandstone. There are areas of rock art around the region, reflecting the indigenous habitation and involvement in their country. One more recent piece of art depicted the plane from a Qantas advertisement from the 1950s, clearly demonstrating continuous association with the land.

Not a hawk, or a kite in sight.

The photo doesn't capture it very well. Qantas.

We then moved to a nearby rock platform to enjoy the changing colours, as the sun went down. And a couple of glasses of wine. It is just such special country. Seriously, if you get the opportunity do it. 

Nice place for a sunset drink. Swimming not advised.

Then it was time to head back to the lodge for another sensational Thai dinner prepared by Rung. After dinner, it was time for some formalities. Tonight, while not the final dinner, would be the last occasion when our tour group would be together in a venue that was exclusively for our use.

Our elder statesman, Ken, spoke eloquently on behalf of us all, acknowledging our guides as well as our fellow travellers. After this, it was time to retire to prepare for tomorrow and the final leg of our adventure, heading into Darwin and back to civilisation.

Bobo.