Even though it's only a few days since I sent the last note, thought I would send this one as so many things seem to be happening. At that time, we had just completed a 200km round excursion of the Merriwa Shire and were making ready to leave the following day.
We were very impressed with the district. Features include the national park, mountain ranges with spectacular lookouts and rolling green, green hills and plains. Much of the area has been planted with pasture crops and following recent rains, there was a good deal of water in the farm dams that dot the countryside. The lush green effect is aided by aerial fertiliser spraying. We could hear one crop duster buzzing around near the park where we were staying and occasionally caught sight of him as he banked hard and high after a run.
There are many showcase horse and cattle studs in the district. The boundaries and paddocks of most of them are maintained immaculately and the sight of them made the drive an absolute delight.
During the trip we particularly wanted to see a couple of special features, namely the "The Drip" and "Hands on Rock". The Drip is apparently a wall of rocks from which water constantly drips and the Hands on Rock is a rock bearing aboriginal hand paintings. Unfortunately the directions in the district guide book were quite misleading and they lead us on a couple of wild goose chases during which we covered quite a few k's. We ended up finding them both but as it was coming on for dark and both involved a bit of a walk, we decided to give them a miss. Rob made a point of going back to the i to point out the deficiencies. In taking Rob's point, the girl there agreed there was a problem and said that she had got lost the first time she went looking for them. Hopefully the forthcoming reprint will include better instructions.
As I mentioned at the time of my last note, we were making ready to leave the next day. However, that night Rob decided it would be a good idea if, before leaving, I clean the car and van while she did a spot of spring cleaning. Because it took me until early afternoon to finish my allotted chores and I hadn't had time to have my afternoon OPS [old person's sleep] {description courtesy of John and Heather Purdie}, I suggested that we delay our departure until the following day. I got the OK and we decided to have dinner out. That afternoon, I drove Rob down to the post office. When she came out she mentioned the swagman she had just seen. She described him as being typical of what she expected in a swaggie with a long beard, old clothes and a pointed felt hat.
The "top pub" is supposed to have a new restaurant attached to it but when we drove past looking to have dinner, we could not see any cars there so we decided to go back to the RSL Club. When we got there (at around 6.00pm) there were not many people around and the restaurant was empty. We decided to adopt a wait and see attitude before launching ourselves into dinner and took up a table in the lounge just outside the restaurant door. While we were having a quiet drink, the club's band of willing volunteers started selling tickets in the monster Friday night raffle. Rob couldn't help herself and bought a strip of tickets. At this time it was about 6.30pm and the regular grey rinse set, the type of which frequent these raffle nights in thousands of clubs around the country, started to appear. From our vantage point we worked out that most of them took their places in the lounge then placed their dinner orders in the restaurant. After that they returned to the lounge and waited for their number to be called before collecting their meals and bringing them back to the lounge to eat. We followed suit and were finished our meal by about 7.00pm.
Unfortunately, while we were eating, we discovered that the raffle drawing would commence at 7.45pm. We tossed up whether or not we would wait around as we were both fairly tired after the big cleanup day and really wanted an early night. In the end we decided to wait it out. There were dozens of prizes and it took 45 minutes to finish the draw. A number of people won more than one prize and two, having one two prizes in a row, had a chance at a hat-trick. Neither was successful, and we missed out completely.
At 8.30pm, at the end of the draw, the co-ordinator announced that the live entertainment was about to commence in the games room. We had seen on a poster at the front of the club that an act, Those Gals, who featured songs from the 40's, 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's and Country, would be appearing. As admission was free we decided to pop in for a quick look. When we did so, we were warmly greeted by those Gals as there were only about half a dozen others in the relatively small room, teenagers, and they were at the far end playing pool. The joy that those Gals exhibited at our arrival made it very difficult for us to leave after a couple of songs as we had intended doing.
However, not long later, a striking young woman whose group had been sitting near us in the lounge came in and started joining up a few of the tables that were scattered around the pool tables and placing chairs around them. She was striking as she was attractive, had long hair, was quite thin and stood about 6 foot 2 inches tall. When she had finished setting up, she came over to us and asked if we liked dancing. I tried to say "No" but Rob beat me with a, "Yes" to which she replied, "Oh wonderful. My husband and I love dancing. If we get up will you do so also?" Again I went to say "Sorry but we will be leaving shortly" but again I was beaten with a "Sure". A short time later her party of about a dozen people started rolling in. They were followed by four or five big blokes, some with beards and all looking like truckies, who parked themselves at an adjoining table and ten to twenty more teens who wandered down the back to the pool tables. We were obviously the token "oldies" as the next oldest would have been at least 20 years younger than us.
A few minutes later, a young girl who had been down the back with the pool players came up and asked, "Did yous go into the IGA and do your shopping yesterday?" Rob replied, "Yes" to which she delightedly said, "I'm Tracy and I was the one who served you. Do you mind if I sit down?" She proceeded, with a bit of prompting from us, to tell us her life story. She grew up at Aberdeen (on the New England Highway just north of Newcastle) and had done her HSC (year 12 high school in New South Wales) last year. She got the job at IGA (a country grocery chain) on the checkout while she was doing her HSC exams and, when they were finished, she shifted, with her boyfriend, to Merriwa to take up the position. Her ambition is to be an early childhood teacher to which end she intends moving, with her boyfriend, to Wagga Wagga in October in an attempt to win a teacher trainee position. Among many other things, she sought our advice as to whether she should buy a house in Wagga or rent. We gave her very sage advice and after nattering on for another 15 minutes she bade farewell and went back to her friends.
Next the striking young lady came up with her husband and asked Rob if she would dance with him. She jumped at the opportunity and I got up and danced with our latest best friend. After the dance, she came back to our table, sat down and proceeded to tell us her life story also. She had been a fitter and turner working in the Hunter Valley coal mines (the only female holding such a position) when she met and married her husband who was a shearing contractor. They have two young children, a boy and a girl. About 18 months ago she saw an advertisement for a manual arts teacher at Merriwa High School. She won the position and since then has been in training to take up the position full time. Her husband has given up work to look after the children while she studies. The family lives on one of the two grazing properties his mother owns in the district.
Just after she went back to her table, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see one of the supposed truckies looking at me with a quizzical look on his face while gesturing to Rob to join him on the dance floor. She got up and when she came back after the dance proclaimed very excitedly that her partner was in fact the swaggie that she had seen in the PO in the afternoon. She had only recognised him when she spotted his peaked felt hat tucked into his belt.
The next visitors to our table, during one of their breaks, were Those Gals and they too told us much of their life histories. They live in Tamworth, one of them, Wendy, has a daughter suffering from cystic fibrosis, she is the secretary of the Songwriters Guild, has written a couple of songs, has won a songwriting competition and the winning song has been selected by a top female artist for inclusion in her next album. At Robs request they later sang a couple of songs that two of them had written.
A few dances more and we were surprised to find out that the show was about to finish as it was midnight. However, before we had time to go, another of the "truckies" came up to say "G'day". He was about the size of half a house - a man monster. He introduced himself as Rowan Constable but, he said, his friends called him Rooster. After a bit of chit chat, I said, "And how long have you lived here in Merriwa, Rowan?" His reply was, "All my life." Then, as if an afterthought, "except for eleven years". That would have been about a third of his life. My next question was designed to confirm my expectation that he was a truckie, "And what do you do for a crust Rowan?" "Nothing" was his brief reply. "What do you mean, 'Nothing'" said I. "Nothing" said Rowen, "I'm on compo [workers compensation] for a crook back so don't tell anybody you have seen me here". With a guy that size telling me that, you can rest assured I will abide by his request.
Just before we walked out to go home, one of Those Gals raced down, gave us the group's business card and requested that next time we are in Tamworth we give them a call and we can get together for a drink.
On leaving the club, we gave a friendly wave to the police who were there making sure that the local youth got home safely, hopped into the car and drove back home to the van park. What an outstanding night, but nothing more than you can expect 'on the road'.
ps. Since writing this, Those Gals have developed quite a following in the country and western world and are a very popular group at Australia's major country and western festival at Tamworth. It is often difficult to get into their concerts; a far cry from our night at Merriwa.
We were very impressed with the district. Features include the national park, mountain ranges with spectacular lookouts and rolling green, green hills and plains. Much of the area has been planted with pasture crops and following recent rains, there was a good deal of water in the farm dams that dot the countryside. The lush green effect is aided by aerial fertiliser spraying. We could hear one crop duster buzzing around near the park where we were staying and occasionally caught sight of him as he banked hard and high after a run.
There are many showcase horse and cattle studs in the district. The boundaries and paddocks of most of them are maintained immaculately and the sight of them made the drive an absolute delight.
During the trip we particularly wanted to see a couple of special features, namely the "The Drip" and "Hands on Rock". The Drip is apparently a wall of rocks from which water constantly drips and the Hands on Rock is a rock bearing aboriginal hand paintings. Unfortunately the directions in the district guide book were quite misleading and they lead us on a couple of wild goose chases during which we covered quite a few k's. We ended up finding them both but as it was coming on for dark and both involved a bit of a walk, we decided to give them a miss. Rob made a point of going back to the i to point out the deficiencies. In taking Rob's point, the girl there agreed there was a problem and said that she had got lost the first time she went looking for them. Hopefully the forthcoming reprint will include better instructions.
As I mentioned at the time of my last note, we were making ready to leave the next day. However, that night Rob decided it would be a good idea if, before leaving, I clean the car and van while she did a spot of spring cleaning. Because it took me until early afternoon to finish my allotted chores and I hadn't had time to have my afternoon OPS [old person's sleep] {description courtesy of John and Heather Purdie}, I suggested that we delay our departure until the following day. I got the OK and we decided to have dinner out. That afternoon, I drove Rob down to the post office. When she came out she mentioned the swagman she had just seen. She described him as being typical of what she expected in a swaggie with a long beard, old clothes and a pointed felt hat.
The "top pub" is supposed to have a new restaurant attached to it but when we drove past looking to have dinner, we could not see any cars there so we decided to go back to the RSL Club. When we got there (at around 6.00pm) there were not many people around and the restaurant was empty. We decided to adopt a wait and see attitude before launching ourselves into dinner and took up a table in the lounge just outside the restaurant door. While we were having a quiet drink, the club's band of willing volunteers started selling tickets in the monster Friday night raffle. Rob couldn't help herself and bought a strip of tickets. At this time it was about 6.30pm and the regular grey rinse set, the type of which frequent these raffle nights in thousands of clubs around the country, started to appear. From our vantage point we worked out that most of them took their places in the lounge then placed their dinner orders in the restaurant. After that they returned to the lounge and waited for their number to be called before collecting their meals and bringing them back to the lounge to eat. We followed suit and were finished our meal by about 7.00pm.
Unfortunately, while we were eating, we discovered that the raffle drawing would commence at 7.45pm. We tossed up whether or not we would wait around as we were both fairly tired after the big cleanup day and really wanted an early night. In the end we decided to wait it out. There were dozens of prizes and it took 45 minutes to finish the draw. A number of people won more than one prize and two, having one two prizes in a row, had a chance at a hat-trick. Neither was successful, and we missed out completely.
At 8.30pm, at the end of the draw, the co-ordinator announced that the live entertainment was about to commence in the games room. We had seen on a poster at the front of the club that an act, Those Gals, who featured songs from the 40's, 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's and Country, would be appearing. As admission was free we decided to pop in for a quick look. When we did so, we were warmly greeted by those Gals as there were only about half a dozen others in the relatively small room, teenagers, and they were at the far end playing pool. The joy that those Gals exhibited at our arrival made it very difficult for us to leave after a couple of songs as we had intended doing.
However, not long later, a striking young woman whose group had been sitting near us in the lounge came in and started joining up a few of the tables that were scattered around the pool tables and placing chairs around them. She was striking as she was attractive, had long hair, was quite thin and stood about 6 foot 2 inches tall. When she had finished setting up, she came over to us and asked if we liked dancing. I tried to say "No" but Rob beat me with a, "Yes" to which she replied, "Oh wonderful. My husband and I love dancing. If we get up will you do so also?" Again I went to say "Sorry but we will be leaving shortly" but again I was beaten with a "Sure". A short time later her party of about a dozen people started rolling in. They were followed by four or five big blokes, some with beards and all looking like truckies, who parked themselves at an adjoining table and ten to twenty more teens who wandered down the back to the pool tables. We were obviously the token "oldies" as the next oldest would have been at least 20 years younger than us.
A few minutes later, a young girl who had been down the back with the pool players came up and asked, "Did yous go into the IGA and do your shopping yesterday?" Rob replied, "Yes" to which she delightedly said, "I'm Tracy and I was the one who served you. Do you mind if I sit down?" She proceeded, with a bit of prompting from us, to tell us her life story. She grew up at Aberdeen (on the New England Highway just north of Newcastle) and had done her HSC (year 12 high school in New South Wales) last year. She got the job at IGA (a country grocery chain) on the checkout while she was doing her HSC exams and, when they were finished, she shifted, with her boyfriend, to Merriwa to take up the position. Her ambition is to be an early childhood teacher to which end she intends moving, with her boyfriend, to Wagga Wagga in October in an attempt to win a teacher trainee position. Among many other things, she sought our advice as to whether she should buy a house in Wagga or rent. We gave her very sage advice and after nattering on for another 15 minutes she bade farewell and went back to her friends.
Next the striking young lady came up with her husband and asked Rob if she would dance with him. She jumped at the opportunity and I got up and danced with our latest best friend. After the dance, she came back to our table, sat down and proceeded to tell us her life story also. She had been a fitter and turner working in the Hunter Valley coal mines (the only female holding such a position) when she met and married her husband who was a shearing contractor. They have two young children, a boy and a girl. About 18 months ago she saw an advertisement for a manual arts teacher at Merriwa High School. She won the position and since then has been in training to take up the position full time. Her husband has given up work to look after the children while she studies. The family lives on one of the two grazing properties his mother owns in the district.
Just after she went back to her table, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see one of the supposed truckies looking at me with a quizzical look on his face while gesturing to Rob to join him on the dance floor. She got up and when she came back after the dance proclaimed very excitedly that her partner was in fact the swaggie that she had seen in the PO in the afternoon. She had only recognised him when she spotted his peaked felt hat tucked into his belt.
The next visitors to our table, during one of their breaks, were Those Gals and they too told us much of their life histories. They live in Tamworth, one of them, Wendy, has a daughter suffering from cystic fibrosis, she is the secretary of the Songwriters Guild, has written a couple of songs, has won a songwriting competition and the winning song has been selected by a top female artist for inclusion in her next album. At Robs request they later sang a couple of songs that two of them had written.
A few dances more and we were surprised to find out that the show was about to finish as it was midnight. However, before we had time to go, another of the "truckies" came up to say "G'day". He was about the size of half a house - a man monster. He introduced himself as Rowan Constable but, he said, his friends called him Rooster. After a bit of chit chat, I said, "And how long have you lived here in Merriwa, Rowan?" His reply was, "All my life." Then, as if an afterthought, "except for eleven years". That would have been about a third of his life. My next question was designed to confirm my expectation that he was a truckie, "And what do you do for a crust Rowan?" "Nothing" was his brief reply. "What do you mean, 'Nothing'" said I. "Nothing" said Rowen, "I'm on compo [workers compensation] for a crook back so don't tell anybody you have seen me here". With a guy that size telling me that, you can rest assured I will abide by his request.
Just before we walked out to go home, one of Those Gals raced down, gave us the group's business card and requested that next time we are in Tamworth we give them a call and we can get together for a drink.
On leaving the club, we gave a friendly wave to the police who were there making sure that the local youth got home safely, hopped into the car and drove back home to the van park. What an outstanding night, but nothing more than you can expect 'on the road'.
ps. Since writing this, Those Gals have developed quite a following in the country and western world and are a very popular group at Australia's major country and western festival at Tamworth. It is often difficult to get into their concerts; a far cry from our night at Merriwa.