9 September 2013 - Hamilton Caravan Park, Hamilton, Victoria

Yesterday afternoon’s occasional drizzle turned to rain by the time I was tucked up in bed, and this morning the day dawned wet, cold and very windy. The weather woman on morning television spoke of winds about the Grampians gusting at 100 kph; we turned the television off not wishing to hear more.

That was after we heard the journalists using words like “cult” to describe the outgoing Prime Minister’s campaign and concession on Saturday night. I had already considered his selfies, his crowd walks with techno youth and the hysterical celebrity rants akin to that of a cult leader, the Kult of Kevin. Mr Rudd has been unusually quiet since late election night. It would seem that the new “news” is the Palmer phenomenon, he whose rants are totally off the planet, he who looks like offering more colour in the Parliament than anyone ever has. He is larger than life, ridiculously rich, the Titanic replica builder, absurd, twerker, and the result of protest votes. And to think we thought a Coalition win would present Australia with steady rational rule. Watch this space! Or simply google Clive Palmer for entertainment if you cannot wait until parliament returns. Surely this could only happen in Australia? Or more particularly, Queensland?

This morning, it took only moments to break camp as we had remained hitched up. Soon we were driving back along the narrow sealed road up through the beautiful landscape, past abandoned farm buildings, here constructed of wood rather than the stone remnants seen across the border in South Australia. No doubt farms here have been amalgamated just as they have been worldwide in an effort to make for more economic units. Soon we were once more bumping and bouncing along the Henty Highway, with the Grampians on our left and beautiful farmland all about, no evidence of the forecasted wind. 

Derelect farm buildings en route

After a little while we entered the Woohlpooer State Forest and found ourselves surrounded in the charred remains of once beautiful woodland. We remembered that it was only a few months ago that we heard reports of fire near Dunkeld and across the western expanse of the Grampians, and here was evidence. Great swathes of fire damage; always sad to see the results of a controlled burn but this had been no such; three wild fires that caused havoc in March this year. Then we emerged once more into pristine farmland, well-manicured green paddocks with plump healthy looking lambs and their mothers. Large flocks of corellas, a rarity for us, flew across our line of sight; a dusky wallaby came to the edge of the road and watched as we approached, then set off across with slow loping bounces in defiance of our sharp toots. We braked and missed him by a mile, laughing at his audacity.

We passed through Cavendish situated on the Wannon River, once a bustling centre, now with just one hundred and twenty people, boarded up shops, a police station the only evidence of activity. Twenty five kilometres on we arrived at Hamilton, self-proclaimed “Wool Capital of the World”, a big statement that could be correctly challenged, I am sure. 

Hamilton has a population of just over 10,000 according to one brochure I have, somewhat smaller than Horsham, and yet in many ways similar. As I mentioned in a recent posting, we have been here before but did not stay. We were then on our way through to Halls Gap, the tourist centre of the Grampians. Then we sought a free camp up the Victoria Valley, west of Dunkeld; today we decided to stay in a commercial camping ground.

Our first port of call in Hamilton this morning was the Visitor Centre to enquire after an electrician. Caution decreed that we have the electricity cord checked out, having noticed evidence of overheating. It turned out that we had been overloading the conduit and now have new parts and instruction on being lighter on our electricity use.

At the Information Centre, apart from being given a couple of contacts for the electrical work, and advice on the local park tariffs, we found ourselves in the middle of another of life’s strange co-incidences. When Linda, the lone attendant, learned that I was a Kiwi, she said that she had been to New Zealand fairly recently. She had been up north and probably travelled through our city, but more obscurely, had also stayed in Piopio. Piopio is a little King Country settlement of the same ilk as so many of these rural settlements we have passed through ourselves here in Australia; once an important centre for the rural population with a serious service support population making up  the township. Today it houses a small grocer, the local Club, a garage, a big rural school and several of my aunts, uncles and cousins, not a lot more. Line-dancing Linda from Hamilton, Victoria had stayed with my line-dancing cousin-in-law, Linda of Piopio. Now how is that for co-incidence?

We chose this caravan park, once a council park, now privately run, because the reported tariff was the grand sum of $2 cheaper than the other, and have not regretted doing so. The new owners are proceeding well with renovation and that already completed is as neat as a pin. From here were close to the CBD where this afternoon we visited the Botanic Gardens and the Art Gallery, after picking up a few essentials from the Coles supermarket.

The Botanic Gardens are National Trust classified and even in today’s unpleasant weather conditions, were a joy to wander through. The site, covering just an entire city block, was selected for the purpose way back in 1853 and first planted out in 1870. From 1881, the curator of the Melbourne Botanic Gardens, William Guilfoyle, was employed to design the gardens. Old fashioned features such as the Thomson Fountain, the Rotunda and gates remind one of the age of the park, if the size of the grand oaks, elms and other foreign trees does not. There is an aviary from where an assortment of beautiful birds cry to be let out, including the same glorious crimson rosellas seen flying wild over the past few days.

The Botanic Garden's ban rotunda

We called into the Art Gallery where we had been once before. I mentioned then that the gallery had a large collection of notable Australian paintings, including works by Paul Sandby, which we did not particularly like then, as we did not today. The ceramics and glassware did not impress any more than last time, however we did enjoy the small exhibition of Past vs Present in Chinese Photographs that is currently on show.

Back home we caught up with Olly on Skype who gave us a virtual tour of their new home, the wonder of modern technology. We caught up with our school-weary grandsons, saw the unpacked cartons and the wide spaces soon to be filled with the paraphernalia that comes with a busy young family. We saw too the room we will be accommodated in when we eventually turn up to visit.

The wind has since come up, however the gusts have not yet exceeded 60 kph. We are hoping that tomorrow’s weather conditions are no worse than today's; we have plans to explore yet another National Park.