From Hamilton, I rode to the tiny village of Cavendish, where I found an excellent dinner at the Bunyip Hotel. The place looked just like a scene out of "Crocodile Dundee".
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| Cavendish |
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| Pub in Cavendish |
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| Cavendish Pub Dinner |
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| The Bunyip |
A Bunyip, by the way, is Australia's version of Bigfoot or Sasquatch, a mythical creature.
The next stop, in Balmoral, was forgettable, but after that I came to the village of Harrow, which I first discovered in 2001. I stayed there for two days, and got to know a few of the locals. The bartender at the pub, Christy, immediately took my photo for the community newsletter. There's also a café and store. I camped by the cricket grounds, where there was also a great shelter for oboe practice. They were watering the grass in the cricket field, so periodically a guy from across the road, accompanied by 4 miniature dachshunds and one other small dog, came over to tend to the pump and sprinkler. (He turned the pump off at night, so we campers didn't have to listen to it.) I got to know him a little, and his wife came over to chat at one point, too.
Walking along the river one evening, I came upon an echidna, aka Spiny Anteater, which somewhat resembles a porcupine. I'm told that tangling with one is equally painful. Their quills supposedly can even ruin car tires.
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| Harrow Campsite |
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| Harrow Store |
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| Harrow Cafe |
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| Harrow Hotel |
I found some computers at the "Harrow Bush Nursing Centre", which also apparently serves as a community center. It was clear that no one had ever used the computers to connect to the internet, so it took a while to get one going. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be anyone in need of any actual health care.
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| Harrow |
Harrow has a museum celebrating the Aboriginal cricket team, which in 1868 went on a tour of England. It seems many of the area's Aboriginal station hands had talent at cricket, so one of the Englishmen organized a team. Considering what the English were doing to other Aboriginal Australians at the time, there's a bit of irony here. The short film in the museum ends with a scene from their last match in London, while the narrator says, "How long would it be before another Black played for England?"
Leaving Harrow for what almost certainly is the last time for me, I rode on to Edenhope. Along the way, the Harrow sprinkler tender's wife, driving the other way, slowed down and waved.
Edenhope used to be a sort of a holiday spot, the major attraction being Lake Wallace. Since at least 2001, however, the lake has been mostly dry.
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| Lake Wallace in Edenhope What's missing here? |
When I went to the library in Edenhope to use their WiFi, the librarian immediately asked me if I was Scott. It turns out she lives in Harrow, knows Christy the bartender, and edits the newsletter for which Christy took the photos.
At the caravan park in Edenhope, I met a young couple from Argentina, Juan and Nadi, who were traveling around Australia in an old campervan they had just bought.
From Edenhope, I rode west across the border into South Australia, to Naracoorte. Juan and Nadi turned up there, too. As I was setting up my tent, another cyclist rode up. Mathias was from Germany, and claimed that his English was worse than my German, so we spent part of the evening and next morning trying to converse in German. He grew up in East Germany before the wall came down, so he learned Russian in school, rather than English. I didn't think his English was that bad, but he seemed relieved to find someone who spoke even the most remote semblance of his native language. He was on a 5 month trip, starting in Adelaide and finishing in northern Queensland, so we may meet again. I could sure use some more practice speaking German!
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| Border Crossing |
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| With Mathias in Naracoorte |
My next stop, still in South Australia, was Frances, just a bit north. It turned out that there was a big folk music festival happening that weekend, and some folks were already arriving Thursday evening. I had dinner with the fellow who happened to camp next to me, who was one of the musicians. He lives on the family farm not far away, running some sort of music production studio while he keeps an eye on his elderly parents. In the campground that evening, there were various groups playing and singing quietly long after dark.
I didn't feel like dealing with the crowds due to arrive in Frances, so I crossed the border back into Victoria the next day. I stayed in Goroke, a town I discovered in 2005. At that time, there was no caravan park, so they let me stay in the building at the sports ground. There's a nice caravan park now, so I stayed two nights. I arrived during a warm spell, getting up to 38 C (100 F). There was a swim meet going on at the pool the day I arrived, but the next day the pool was nearly deserted, so I went for a swim. A couple hours later, while I was conveniently at the pub having dinner, a storm came through with high winds, thunder, lightning, and a little rain. I hadn't secured my tent as well as I should have, but it survived with only a slightly bent pole.
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| Goroke Tennis Courts |
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| Goroke Main Street |
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| Goroke Football Clubhouse (Where I stayed in 2005) |
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| Goroke Hotel |
There was no café in Goroke, and I was getting tired of granola for breakfast, so I tried making scrambled eggs on my alcohol stove. It was slow and tedious, but they were edible. The worst part was cleaning the pan.
Nhill was my next stop north, another forgettable town, right on a major highway. Then I rode to Jeparit, where I'd been about a month before. The ride from Nhill was very pleasant, with the lightest traffic I've seen so far. Some people in Jeparit recognized me.
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| Lunch Stop on the way to Nhill |
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| Native Bush on the way to Nhill |
I rode on to Rainbow the next day. There I met a local retiree at dinner, and we had a nice conversation. He'd just moved to Rainbow and was fixing up a house he'd just bought. I think this is fairly common, as retirees can buy houses quite cheaply in these little towns. It may also explain why most of them have a pharmacy and small hospital.
So here I am back in Hopetoun, my northernmost point so far. Their tiny lake does have water in it, so I camped in the grass near the shore. Last time, I stayed in the caravan park nearby, but I later discovered that there was camping by the lake. I'm not entirely sure the grassy spot where I put my tent was strictly legal, but no one seemed to mind last night, and I'm going to stay there again tonight.
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| Moonrise at Hopetoun Campsite |
This weekend is a big holiday, Victoria's Labor Day falling on
Monday, just like ours on the first Monday of September. I'll probably get to the larger town of Swan Hill on Sunday, and stay there until the shops open up again Tuesday morning. That will probably be my last stop before crossing into New South Wales.
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