Another Country Diary
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28 August '05 |
 I
left Bungendore at 4.30am to be in Albury by 8.30. That meant there was
not a lot of time to dawdle but the empty main street in Tarcutta at
first light was too much. I stopped. I photographed. I was late. |
 But
not too late. I was attending the Farmers' Market conference at the Lake
Hume reception centre and I've written about it on the
Regional Food site. What I didn't mention in that public place (this
is private isn't it?)was this girl who came with one of the government
agencies. Incredible hair, makeup and that artificial flower I
photographed her a few times and still couldn't work out if this was
asserting a flamboyant personality or some Tennessee Williams china doll
strangeness. It was obviously her regular look as her workmates didn't
seem to notice. I did.
It was just the start of the strangeness. Being away and driving by
yourself there are quiet reflective moments. The Regional Food team were
staying in a motel in Albury itself. The road from Lake Hume to the city
was the same road that my parents used to drive on when we visited
'town' when I was a kid growing up on the butter factory at Walwa. A
winding, picturesque, barely two lane road against the hillside, with
English trees on the edges. There were a few more roadside memorials
nailed to the trees than I remember, testament to country kids driving
too fast on the way to the Lake with their girlfriends or mates. The
feelings of deja vu were strong, not surprising because I had been there
before, but at least fifteen years ago. |
 At
the dinner on the Sunday night, their guest speaker/entertainment was
Chris Haywood, and Australian actor of
renown
(at least to me). I asked if I could photograph him and I'd noticed the
lights outside on the tennis court where making a wattle tree in full
bloom glow in the blue night light. Strange too. Chris entered the
room, striding to the podium obviously with a mouthful of alcohol and a
burning match, and sprayed flame into the air. Quite theatrical with
nothing to do with the rest of his presentation. Probably a well
practiced party trick. He told us about wooing
his doctor wife and the story was full of real world poetry (such as dropping roses on her cruise
ship from a light plane). |
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29 August '05 |
 I
had to leave early on the Monday and left Mark to cover the days
sessions. The Bethanga Bridge was a favourite part of the trip when we
were kids. The suspension bridge had a wooden plank roadway, and with
loose boards, it would rattle loudly as you crossed. We used to hang our
heads out the window, sunlight flashing through the arches, hammering
noises from beneath and the smell of water.I thought that since I was
so early, maybe I'd drive across it for nostalgia's sake, it doesn't
bang or rattle any more but when I got to the end, I decided to keep on
driving. The road runs past the lake and to Corryong eventually, and if
you don't take the punt/ferry across at Wymah and head back to the Hume
Highway you end up in Jingellic. |
 You
drive past the dam/lake with its hundreds of dead trees...
|
 ..and
foggy
hills, |
 steaming
in the morning light... |
 ...paddocks
full of ewes dropping baby lambs |
 |
 and
the beautiful Murray River Valley where I grew up. |
 I
arrived at Jingellic about 8.30am.
My camera memory cards all full. I went to the local store, bought a
toasted sandwich and coffee and asked if I could borrow a power point to
upload the memory cards to my portable hard drive. With a clean bundle
of cards, I went around to the Primary school I attended (as did my brother and sister).
It's now abandoned. I took a few pictures and tried a de-saturated
colour technique but it works better up big... |
 ...like
this |
 The
Jingellic pub was where I used to sell rabbits when I was trapping as a
kid for pocket money. A pair earned 2 shillings and I spent it on comic
books usually. The pub used to have the old general store next to it and they moved that
business to the other end of town... |
 ...when
they built a new bridge and pulled the old bridge down. It was too low for flood times,
although the water flow is now controlled upstream. We used
to cross this bridge from Victoria to go to school in NSW, riding our
bikes. There was always excitement when the river flooded because we'd
be sent home from school before we got cut off from home. I remember
once wading across the bridge with rushing water around my legs pushing
my bicycle. |
 We
lived at the
Walwa Butter Factory but I didn't visit the house we grew up in
this time (although it's still there). |
 I
did say, 'What the hell. I might as well keep driving and visit Walwa' instead of just
heading to Holbrook and home.
The NRMA garage at the entrance to the town uses the old butter factory
logo style (more or less). There's some factory
photos here. |
 |
 The
Walwa Memorial Hall was where
Dad showed pictures on a Saturday night. And I
played projection assistant as I got older. |
 The
Walwa store facade has stayed the same, inside now instead of a general
store and haberdashery, hardware etc, it's more a 'convenience' store.
Most people would go to Corryong for major items. |
 This
retro building has pretty much always been a garage. There are a few
more photos but I'll save them up for a Walwa history someday. |
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|
 I
then scuttled towards home, the countryside was green and lush ( I
remember it most as hot and dry as a kid. Long school holiday summers I
suppose, but it was always a milk and grazing area so
it must have been green at some time of the year.) |
 Like
now. |
 I
stopped to photograph the cow and saw these two crested pigeons who
posed politely on a branch by the road.
I then headed home, trying not to go to sleep in a warm car, stopping
for strong coffee at Holbrook and Yass. The last days of the magazine
were upon me so I have to put my head down for a bit. I'll catch this up
when I get a gap. |
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Fred
Harden
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