BEYOND EDEN ... to a SUDDEN END

While at Eden we

• marvelled at the abundant birdlife, especially enjoying the chorus of bellbirds each day
• walked the Lake Curalo trail, the Bundian Way Story Trail and the Aslings Beach track which included the Maritime Heritage Trail
• drove to Ben Boyd (North) National Park where we went exploring some bush trails and beaches. The variety of rocks in structure and in colour was as sight to behold! The larger southern section of the park was decimated by the fires and is therefore closed to the public.
• had the car serviced at Mazda and it came back cleaner than it has been for the last nine months on the road.

A windy day for a coastal walk

But it was not all a beach walk 

Evidence of the bushfires

Burnt debris everywhere

And above we could see evidence of still smouldering fires

Ben Boyd North National Park had an amazing variety of rocks

The Pinnacles - vastly different to the WA ones

I enjoyed the maritime history depicted on the footpath

The approaching wild weather was evident

Steve getting in another run

We left Eden just before the remnants of Tropical Cyclone Esther hit, but we collected it shortly as we travelled north towards Bega. It was a blessing to be caught behind two trucks with very wide loads being escorted by police and pilot vehicles in the heavy rain. It meant that people had to travel at safe speeds. We had the UHF radio on and listened to the driver of the front warning vehicle radio back to the truck drivers and police escorts the exact descriptions of the approaching drivers and vehicles. Occasionally a vehicle refused to pull off the road but most took notice of the instructions. It was a very interesting listening exercise.

While in Bega we

• spent an afternoon and evening at my brother and sister-in-law's farm. Because of the rain, my brother was forced to sit and rest from the massive fire cleanup he's been undertaking
• spent a morning having coffee with old friends from my childhood church
• drove out to Tathra where the seas were so wild the cafe on the wharf was closed for the day
• walked the Bega parkrun course in the rain as a freedom run
• camped at the Bega Showgrounds which has toilets, showers, power, electricity and a laundry, with a small fee collected by the resident caretaker. Well done Bega for this provision for travellers
• had my haircut, and it was needed ... so much hair on the floor!

Coffee catch up with Warwick and Yvonne
Warwick was my Debut partner many long years ago

My last day of wild hair for a while

Tathra

A Bega alleyway

Haircut time!

From a rather scary moment in my childhood I had developed an unhealthy fear of driving up Brown Mountain, but we were booked into the Caravan Park at Jindabyne and so we had to go! Driving along the Snowy Mountains Highway it was strange to think that only two months previously the Valley had been filled with flames and smoke as the fires raged, especially as now the grass had returned in abundance. Drought followed by fire followed by abundant rain brings about verdant pasture. After a stop at Bemboka for coffee and a special Bee Sting bun for Steve, we left the valley and climbed for 10km, quite often very steeply! However, those fears from childhood dissipated as Steve easily pulled the van up. Whereas the road was dirt with nothing between the road and the steep side drops of my childhood, now it is a good highway with barriers to prevent cars slipping over and is definitely not something to fear! We drove through Nimmitabel and Cooma before stopping to make some lunch in Berridale, and then finished that drive at the NRMA Jindabyne Holiday Park where we stopped for four nights.

Bemboka

Looks delicious

I would have liked one too but gluten free was not an option

While in Jindy we

• checked out the Jindabyne parkrun course on Friday
• ran or walked the parkrun on a very cold Saturday morning
• picked up our friends Ruth and David Jones from the church camp at which David was speaking and took them out for coffee in Jindabyne for a wonderful afternoon of catch up time
• walked other paths around the lake in the evening
• were thankful that the park was fully booked out in all the nicely manicured spots when we rang to book and so we were the only ones on the old section of uneven grass and not squashed in like sardines
• went out to the camp for the morning service at which David spoke, and were made very welcome by the members of WPC Belconnen, even inviting us to stay for lunch, but with my dietary needs we didn't
• wondered if the rain would stop, but it did on Monday
• went up the chairlift at Thredbo to do the summit walk to Kosciusko on the Monday. The sun shone; some alpine wildflowers still bloomed; Steve went to the top but I thought I'd be too slow to be able to make the last chairlift down the mountain, although, having made Rawson Pass I probably would have done so easily! However, Steve was back down from the summit on the road we drove up as children, and I sure didn't ask him to do that last climb up again with me. I had chosen to be content with not making the summit not long after the start. My lungs don't do too well at altitude and so I thoroughly enjoyed the day despite not achieving the goal I had when getting on the chairlift. I saw two shy little mammals that I believe are mountain pygmy possums scamper away under low bush and rock when walking by myself, and then again in a different spot when Steve was with me there were two more. No photos, just beautiful memories! I have so many childhood memories of summer walking and camping in the high country and again I thoroughly enjoyed this walk in the fresh mountain air.

It was freezing!

Such a lovely course to run or walk

So misty one could notsee across the Lake

Skateboard art

An occasional burst of sunshine

It was an ACT long weekend so plenty of people playing

 

A rainy Sunday going to the church camp

Don't you love mountain landscape?

I love the rain on the eucalypt trunks

The were a number of alpine flowers on the Kosciusko track

Our chairlift up the mountain

Taking a selfie with our little point and shoot camera

One of the remaining part of the old track still in use

As children we tramped this alpine vista when it was covered in summer flowers

As far as I went

Steve was nearly back down to Rawson Pass

Riding the chairlift back down

I was content being on my own as there were many people on the track

On our way back nearly at the Kosi view point

Part of the old track was visible below the new one

Afternoon misty cloud rolling in

Mountain bikes have their own tracks to hurtle down the mountain

This guy rode from the top of the chairlift and was ready to hurl himself down

The Thredbo River gurgles through Thredbo

Early evening at the camp spot along the Thredbo River on the way back to Jindabyne

We campedherewhen the children were small

From Jindabyne we made our way to Braidwood as the media had been full of the need for tourists to go there and spend money so that their shops wouldn't die after the eight weeks that the road was closed during the bushfires. However, the caretaker of the campground could not be found and we were given the run around by the Information Centre and the Council, and so, having had a coffee and been to the pharmacy, we made our way back to the free camp spot at Warri Bridge over the Shoalhaven River for two very peaceful nights.

The bushfire toll on the Monaro was visible in these burned out hills

Shoalhaven River at Warri Bridge

A new toilet block is being built for travellers

We walked over the bridge at dusk

Bridge dweller

Early morning mist

Possibly my favourite shot of the trip

We stopped for a walk in Bungendore  on the way to Canberra

Apparently they're famous for their vanilla slices

And then it was to the ACT where we camped out at Cotter Reserve for three nights. While there we

Cotter River

• walked all the trails of the reserve, except the one to the caves as the bridge across the river had been broken by flood waters a couple of weeks beforehand
• was staggered by how much higher the dam wall is from what it was in my childhood
• spent an evening around a campfire with two dads who were camping with their children; one was an Air Force pilot and the other a Combat Engineer in the Army. Despite their degrees [one has a doctorate and a couple of masters] they're doing another course in Canberra. We had a fabulous evening together and it was late before we realised.
• met up with another old school friend for a long talk and coffee, and also purchased some necessary items while in that shopping precinct
• woke on Saturday to the coldest morning Canberra had had for the year and met up with one other parkrun nomad, whom we had met in the caravan park in Adelaide, in the rain, wind and freezing cold at Coombs. I walked with a lass who had been reading my parkrun tourism posts and then had seen my friend's photo from coffee on Friday. It turned out that she was friends with two friends of mine who live in different places and are very different ages. Gaby and I talked the whole 5km walk without stopping. As it turned out, this was our last parkrun because of the social distancing that our country then put in place.
• spent a wonderful, wonderful afternoon with my youngest brother and sister-in-love where we went out for an amazing afternoon tea before we walked through a lovely section of parkland at Lake Burley Griffin. We then went to my niece's for tea and a walk for ice-cream. To say I am thankful for their presence in Canberra for the weekend is an understatement! What fabulous family hours were spent, especially in the circumstances where we have now deliberately decided to avoid the populated areas for the foreseeable future after the government's decision on social distancing, and so we won't be seeing family in Sydney.

The dam provides water supply for the ACT

Huge difference in water storage

Prior to social distancing we spent a wonderful afternoon with Joy

What a cold and wet parkrun morning

But the afternoon was diametrically opposed

My brother's favourite spot in this art of Lake Burley Griffin

Boys will be boys!

Leaving the ACT we travelled west. We stopped at Yass to have a coffee, walk their parkrun course which would be a great one to do with others, had a very late lunch at a Thai cafe before continuing on through country roads until we made our way to Harden-Murrumburrah where we stopped at the showgrounds overnight. The Showground Trust really cater for nomads. They have 52 places with power and filtered water, a fabulous amenities block and a friendly caretaker who is definitely up for a good chat. After a great sleep and doing a wash, we cut across country to take the road to Wombat especially so that I could photograph the town name as our daughter had loved wombats when she was little.

We've loved all the public artwork we'ves een

A little visitor on our Yass walk

So many gracious old towns dot our rural landscape

As we drove into Young I rang a friend I have had since we began to work together in 1966 and then also went to Teachers College together in 67-68, and found that she was home, and so we wandered back country roads to spend a couple of hours with her at the farm before driving on to Grenfell. This is another town that is nomad friendly and where we willingly spent our money. The free camp is at the old railway station and the Lions Club have installed toilets and a shower, all for a donation and a $2 for 5 minute shower! Well done Grenfell! The painting on the silos there is absolutely stunning and as I went up for morning light shots, one of the workers told me that the other side will be painted later in the year.

I think there were 12 or14 vans camping this night
and all spending money in the community

Famous Grenfellians

I loved the old building with tiles and tin pressed ceilings juxtaposed with the modern ATM

I think Lawson would have liked this backdrop -
one of the pubs and the Salvation Army buildings

No longer a working railway so a perfect spot for nomad adventurers to park

Sunrise on the silo 

I love the sheep faces paintedon this curved surface

From Grenfell we drove to West Wyalong, again buying a coffee and walking the old town before stopping just outside of town for lunch and a walk in The Charcoal Tank Nature Reserve.

Another rural streetscape showing the abundance of a past era

This Catholic church was huge

There were a number of embroidered banners depicting family histories hanging in the church

It must have been the season for roses in the Central West

I enjoyed this shop front

Artwork tucked away in a corner of the town

Such a vibrantly painted building

We set off through the bush here

And came across the Charcoal tank

And then it was on for my most nostalgic time of our nearly 10 month journey. We were heading to the new Presbyterian Inland Mission property just outside Ardlethan, and so we deviated from the highway into Beckom where my Nanna and Grandpa had their farm. Fortunately a school bus driver asked us what we wanted as we were walking around the sleepy village and he rang his sister who found us and opened up the little Union Church where Dad had worshipped as a boy. Being so close to his first birthday after his death, I had wanted to see the roll of honour on which were inscribed all the names of the local lads who fought in World War 2, but it was just walking into the building that was so familiar from my childhood that undid me. I was sad and joyful all at once, and I could not thank Ellie enough for letting us in.

Beckom

Mirool Creek

My Grandpa loved this hymn

The cross was bought in memory of my Nanna by the congregation

Steve read for us the two Scripture readings from my parents' funerals

I loved the pressed tin walls

From there it was the last 8 kilometres to Adlethan and New Dunesk. While there we

• got to know the family who have joined PIM as managers
• saw the potential for the vision for which it will be used
• took a sunset walk along the ridge that was so like the hill at the farm of my childhood
• enjoyed the peace of the star-filled night sky
• cleared two of the camping spots of the rocks that abound along the ridge
• bought a coffee and lunch at the little local cafe on the way out of town
• did a small shop at the little supermarket, while enjoying chatting to locals

 

New Dunesk

Where the campsite will be

We set off for an evening walk up the hill

Everlastings still flowered on the ridge

An echidna tried to hide

I was totally in my element

The sun set over Ardlethan

Night time and vast skies

Trucks passed a couple of kilometres away along the Newell Highway

Ardlethan is famous for the sheepdog

...and a Stawell Gift winner

How great is this sculpture?

It really was later than we expected to leave Ardlethan but we were only going to Weethalle to camp for the night at yet another showground where travellers are welcomed. While there we:-

• walked into and through this small town
• took photos of yet another amazing piece of silo art
• went to the little shop-cum-cafe-cum-roadhouse where many truckies stop for a feed and talked to the lass who runs it about how hard it is for her to access the things she needs now for the truckies meals because of her great difficulty in getting any supplies because of the greed of people travelling to regional towns in buses and stripping the supermarkets. For the past 6 years she's bought 40 loaves of bread a week from West Wyalong and now she is limited, like every other customer, to two loaves only! I find that fact very disturbing!
• had a very peaceful night
• talked to the lady who collects the camping fee [$10] for a long morning chat
• stopped again at Road Kill Grillz for coffee, and an encouraging word for the shopkeeper to hang in there, before we drove out.

This brings tourists to the town

Weethalle is not big

One garden had many beautiful rose bushes blooming

When I saw this I knew which road we would take out of town

How many Aussie towns have Royal Hotels I wonder

Part of the mural painted along the old rail platform

A different cenotaph from most of the ones we've seen

From there it was to Tullibigeal where my Uncle Ken was Principal of the Central School when I was younger. We walked the town and I took phone shots to share with my cousin to show his Dad. I talked to the office lady at the school and took some shots around the school. Again we bought a few things as one of our aims in this journey was to support little country towns, and as usual there was some great conversation to be had.

The 'feel' in this school was wonderful

In every area of the school the motto was spelled out
and from what I saw was being adhered to by all

The little old Methodist church where Aunty Aud was organist used to be weatherboard

Time to go in an help out the economy

From there we made our way to Deadmans Point at Lake Cargelligo where we were definitely isolated the first evening, but by the second evening there were many caravaners parked for some time of keeping away from people while the pandemic madness continues ... but at least we can all keep social distancing! We're 3 kilometres from town but we did walk in for a coffee which turned out to be a milkshake after we'd got a few things from the IGA as it was so very, very hot. At least this is one place where the buses haven't raided!

Such beauty in front of the campspot

Walkway into town

It was low 30's and a beautiful day for a walk

That was where, on our fourth afternoon, we had a phone call from our son telling us that the states were closing their borders and we best get home as fast as we could. We had known some small amount of information about the virus having spent no radio and very little social media time, but that was about to change. From the idyllic bliss of sitting beside a beautiful lake watching the antics of birds, the turtles raising their heads and swatting flies and mosquitoes, we suddenly changed tack - booking our passage home, packing up and leaving the next morning to get across the NSW/Victorian border before any possible closure.

Evening on our last day

Other nomads parked up above us as the road beside the lake was fully taken

Talking to his sister about our change of plans

Driving a greater distance than we normally would, we made an almost direct line south to cross the border at Tocumwal and book into a caravan park at Cobram to wait until the day we could sail. I was rather tearful passing through Finley knowing we could not stop and visit so many friends there, and knowing that now we wouldn't be spending a good number of days with them at the end of our adventure in 2021, as this adventure was now coming to an abrupt end. The days in Cobram were spent quietly sitting in the sun, going for walks in the bush on the familiar Cobram parkrun course and unfortunately reading too much media on COVID-19. I was reading hateful messages about tourists taking the virus into places and much blame being placed upon retirees in caravans. I was reading hateful messages to tourists in Tasmania by vigilante groups. I was reading too much! I began to despair of the Tasmania I know and love, especially when it was reported that one of the television stations began to stake out the boat arrivals and falsely reporting. Fortunately we had friends who were beginning to call out the hate groups, but I had already begun to go downhill mentally. I was actually scared to go home. I was watching our wonderful hosts beginning to despair when they were, by new law, turning away caravaners. The Victorian government would only allow them to keep the permanents and those without homes to return to who had booked in by the Wednesday. There were nine caravans fitting the latter category and I was sorely tempted to sit out the lockdowns there where we were warm and welcome. We fitted the category as we were not halfway into our trip and we had a lovely young couple in our home. And every day the rules and regulations changed and every day I grew worse! Normally I have been a problem solver and can usually come up with a number of plans very quickly, but this was way beyond any person solving this world-wide problem and I came up wanting. Instead of being still and knowing that God was in control, I began to panic and could not think through anything. Poor Steve carried a lot for three days as all I did was get his meals. I knew that once we had driven through the park gates there would be no turning back as they could not rebook us in and such was the rapid change, anything could have happened!

Walking the Cobram parkrun track was so familiar

Self isolating but taking a break from cooking

I was determined we'd have enough food for the trip
to Melbourne, overnight on the boat and then on to the Huon

And I used up the pears and ginger to make a slice

 But Saturday morning arrived and, having said our goodbyes to the park owners and the other nomad refugees, we drove south again passing through Katamatite where the Boosey Creek now had water, unlike the last time we were in the vicinity, and on to Shepparton. Here we saw 'Breaking News' on the news app about further changes to the rules for coming into Tasmania. We hurriedly rang our contact in the relevant government office ... I know that it isn't fair to ring them at home, especially under the present trying times, but I did just that as we were only half an hour away from Cobram and we'd been given a lifeline in any emergency just prior to leaving. However, the changes were to come into effect on the Sunday at midnight so we were okay. After a walk and a coffee we drove almost straight through to Melbourne and could not believe just how much traffic was on the roads as we made our way to Station Pier, especially as people were supposed to be staying at home. We parked in our normal waiting spot away from the pier and St Kilda Beach, and went for a long walk discovering places we had not known existed, and we watched the ferry come in.

Our penultimate mainland walk around the lake in Shepparton

On our final walkwe watched out ferry come in

The reality of our sudden end as we enteredthe bowels of the boat

Ready for departure from Port Melbourne

Having boarded, we went to our cabin, before venturing to the little onboard shop to buy a cuppa. The social isolation measures on the boat were amazing. Yes, you could watch TV if you so desired, but so much of the seating had notices on them that those seats were not to be used. All the bars etc were not open. There was a sanitiser station to be used both before going into, and coming out from, the on board shop and a staff member supervising so that only two customers at a time were allowed in. There were staff members everywhere ensuring that passengers complied with the distancing rules. It was sombre, and almost silent! Having bought a hot and a cold drink we went back to the cabin where life, for a brief window of time, seemed normal again. We ate food I'd cooked, drank our drinks, watched out the porthole [we'd spoiled ourselves by getting a two bed porthole cabin] and left Melbourne bound for our home state. I had thebest sleep I think I have ever had on the boat.

It was a strange sensation coming into Devonport in the early hours. Normally we're up and ready and thankful to be home, especially knowing that we only had a few minutes' drive ... this was different! I had no idea of the reception. I had cried on the Pier the night before for all the other Tasmanians whose dream trips had been cut short, but as I looked out at the long, long, long line of interstate caravans and camper trailers waiting to board for the day crossing, I shed more tears. I know how expensive it is to take a van on the Spirit of Tasmania ... far, far more expensive than any other bit of the national highway, and now their dream holidays had crashed around them, with so much hate being shown towards them [by a vocal minority] as if they were the cause of the virus being in Tassie! On the Nomads site I was reading many responses to the hate and so many were saying that they'd never step foot in our lovely state again, having felt frightened by the reactions they'd received. So many years of work to build up Tassie as a destination destroyed by fear and aggressive blame finding. Another sad offshoot of this global pandemic.

The bio-security man told us that we could pull over on a road away from people to use the toilet in the van and to top up the fuel from our jerrycans. I am so thankful that Steve thought of that as we were not allowed to stop at a petrol station and we wouldn't have been able to make it south to our son and daughter-in-law's farm without the extra fuel. Why weren't we going home to do our 14 days of quarantine? Simple really ... the young couple in our home are in the early stages of pregnancy and I was not going to endanger that baby by getting them to move in too short a time, and four days notice is too short a time! Every young life is precious ...and our house-sitters had come for two years, not the 10 months this adventure has been!

Having passed through bio-security checks, we were heading out only to be met at the gate by a lady handing out Tassie butter, milk and bread. Despite her mask, we knew from her twinkling eyes and her voice that it was a smiling welcome she was giving all of us arriving so unexpectedly in our home state. It was so good to feel the love and care that has been the Tasmania I know! And there was more to come! Friends had bananas and coffee in a box for us to wake us up for the trip south, another friend had a container of food and drinks, flowers and a card with Psalm 46:1 in another box in a remote spot in the south, and then we arrived at the farm. The grandchildren knew they couldn't come to us but waved and shouted across the paddock! Dunc and Sara had set up a camping spot for us complete with table and chairs, a fire pit and wood, and an amazing amount of supplies. The Tasmania I know and love had been restored to me, thanks to these friends and family and the unknown lady at the gate of the terminal!

Devonport sunrise as we headed south

Singing as we shared in the St John's worship service

How spoiled were we by our daught-in-love!

First flowers the van has had and the daisies are still going strong two weeks later

And even after quarantine they still miss their hugs

Settled

Watching the next Sunday service

The peace of the Huon has been a balm for the soul

Full moon rises

Quarantine camping

 And thus ends our adventure. Two weeks of isolation and quarantine, two weeks in which we have had the opportunity to be still and know that God has us in His keeping, two weeks to reflect in silence on what is and is not important in life, two weeks to listen only to ABC classic and two weeks to spend more time in prayer and bible reading together, two weeks to enjoy. I know that the tendency during this time has been to panic [and I did too much of that when trying to get home] and to blame, but this is not a time for either! It is a time to make every effort to keep ourselves and our loved ones safe, to connect with each other and to care for each other through different means than is normal, and to thank those people who are placing themselves at risk in order to serve us. Steve has for years thanked the "checkout chicks" for the essential work they do, and this virus has certainly showed how essential they are.

Eden on the far south coast of NSW was the place where this blog entry started, but it was immensely different to the Eden of creation where all that was made was good. However our journey's sudden end is also different to the sudden end that every life will have. We cannot escape death whether it comes through this virus or some other way. Because of what Christ did for us that first Easter we, and many others whose faith, hope and trust is in Jesus, can face our sudden end whenever that happens with confidence.

I am completing this blog on the day our quarantine has finished, on Easter Day, 2020, a day of great hope in the midst of difficult and trying times. Please, please take care dear family and friends reading this last episode of our truncated adventure blog. If ever we are able to take up the other half of our adventure we will continue, but if not this is "over and out".