The cold temperatures kept us in bed later this morning but we were still away from the camp by 10 am, and heading south, away from Bendigo. We set the Tomtom for Kyneton, a name plucked off the map in the general direction we were intending to travel, and to assist with finding our way efficiently across the city.
Not too far south of Bendigo, the highway turned into a freeway, with a surface much appreciated after having been subjected to Victoria’s hideous roads for weeks. Sixty six kilometres south of Bendigo, we arrived at Kyneton and called into the Visitors Centre to find out if we should pause longer than a comfort stop decreed.
The centre was manned today by an ancient couple of volunteers, she particularly shrunken and lame, but full of character and full of enthusiasm for her community. Later Chris and I imagined ourselves in time, when we finally settle down, doing the same, a day a fortnight or similar in the local Information Centre. The only drawback of a job like this, even though voluntary, one is not allowed to recommend one camping ground over another, or one bakery more than another. I would be like some of the characters who say, “I am not supposed to say this, but…..”
The outcome of this consultation was a long walk into the town centre, up and down the three main streets of this old but vibrant town, which started its life during the gold rush days, offering a rest stop to those trudging to the fields, and later offering provisions to those who stayed working on the fields. Initially grain crops were the order of the day, giving way later to sheep and cattle farming, and since the beginning of this century, the inevitable vineyards. It really is astounding to see, as we travel about the country, the number of vineyards that have sprung up in the last ten years. We wonder if when there is finally a glut of wine, the government will have to bale the viticulturists out, as the New Zealand government did the kiwifruit growers.
Aside from this practical aspect of the town’s contribution to the state, like Daylesford we visited less than a week ago, Kyneton has a spa, mineral springs, which are no doubt enjoyed by the punters from Melbourne. I wonder if they are as disgusting as those tested last week? The town is also upstream on the Campaspe River which feeds Lake Eppalock and a walk along the river was suggested but we decided not to.
Piper Street in Kyneton is particularly noteworthy, the oldest streetscape of the town, with many of the original buildings now host to upmarket cafes, interior design outlets and the like. Despite the fact that many of the stores obviously cater for the more affluent folk who drive up from Melbourne, the town still feels welcoming and worth taking the time to more than rush through. We patronised one of the many bakeries and consumed our purchases over lunch, then made several telephone calls to caravan parks in the Melbourne area. Some did not cater for caravans, and others charged $42 per night with no discount for a week booking and one was tardy in responding to our inquiry. Finally with a booking sorted, we resumed our journey south, to Rockbank. This little settlement is just thirty kilometres west of Melbourne, has a clean and convenient caravan park and charges just $24 per day with the seventh free; a far cry from any others about.
We had left the freeway close to Sunbury, where our friends Bob and Janet live, those whom we will be spending some time with during the weeks ahead, and travelled across rural roads to the Western Highway. I was surprised to see that Sunbury is a town or city totally separate from Melbourne, and Chris was amazed to discover that the hazy silhouette of Melbourne was visible from this far away. I was also surprised to see that Melbourne appears to be spread out on a flat plain. Given its horseshoe shape on the map, surrounding Port Philip Bay, I had assumed it would be situated on hills that sloped down to the sea. It would seem I was incorrect. However all these first impressions are rather premature, because we are still out in the country and will catch the train into the city sometime in the next few days. In the meantime, we have noticed that we are sandwiched between the highway and the railway, a position that we have become so familiar with in our travels over the past year.
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