28 November 2011 - Adelaide Soaring Club. Buchwelde, Gawler, South Australia

We woke Saturday morning to continuing dreary rainy weather and decided that this was not a day to go exploring the wonders of South Australia. We did however venture into Gawler, this bustling town of 20,000, and walk up and down the street to find out what it had to offer besides wonderful old buildings and equally wonderful people, well, at least among those we had encountered to date.

We returned to camp with fresh bread for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon reading, preparing the next day’s dinner for crock pot cooking and at five thirty, glued to the television. We were absolutely delighted to discover that ABC 24 News was broadcasting all the TVNZ’s election coverage. We were expecting to have to pick up internet updates from time to time, but this was a real bonus; we watched as the progress results were reported and the commentary delivered. I was shocked, as were the rest of the New Zealand voters, to see that Winston Peters and his New Zealand First colleagues had won positions in parliament on the wing of a “tea party scandal” as did Peter Dunne and his United Future unexpecting candidates on the strength of the television commentary “worm” those few elections ago. How interesting the New Zealand parliament will be: perhaps as interesting and entertaining as the circus in the Australian House of Representatives this past year.

Sunday morning we woke to much improved weather, clear skies and less wind. We roused ourselves and were away before ten, heading toward the Barossa Valley. We travelled first to Lyndoch (population 1,430) and walked around this charming village full of al fresco cafes, gift shops, antique shops and galleries, adorned with flowering roses and charm, and then on to Tanunda (population 3,725), Greenock (population 685), Nuriootpa (population 4,414) and Angaston (population 1,865) and finally Bethany (population 80) before passing back through Tanunda and back to camp.

The Barossa Valley was initially surveyed by a William Light who lent his name to a small settlement too small to be mentioned in the list above, in 1837, and by 1847, Herr Klumpp, one of many German immigrants who fled religious persecution in their homeland, had planted the vines at Jacob Creek at Rowland’s Flat between Lyndoch and Tanunda. He set up the wine company, Orlando Wines, (Orlando being the German version of Rowlands) and the rest is history.

Jacobs Creek or Orlando Wines has an excellent Visitors Centre, opened back in 2002. Set among many hectares of parklands, where they are bending over backwards to please the environmental brigade with solar panel banks, native plantings, destruction of “weeds” such as olives (!!), the centre offers a function centre, a restaurant, tasting and sales, and a well set out information “museum” promoting their product and detailing the history thereof. We called in with the intention of buying a souvenir bottle of wine as one just has to when touring this very famous region, however on reviewing the blurb regarding the attributes of their wines, decided that these were not for us after all.

Jacobs Creek is just one of the many vineyards in this entire area, some small boutique holdings and others on a much grander commercial scale.

At Tanunda, we spent some time wandering up and down the charming main street, with all the other Sunday visitors, purchased a book from a second hand bookshop celebrating John Betjeman’s England, (having established that he is a rather distant cousin of mine, I felt I could do no less) and established the exact route of the heritage driving route with the woman in the Information Centre.

We drove along Seppeltsfeild Road, lined with date palms planted to create another income for unemployed through the 1930’s depression, past numerous vineyards from Marananga to the huge setup at Seppeltsfield. We stopped and walked up to the Seppelts family mausoleum on the hill overlooking the vineyards, marvelling at the ostentation. We drove on looking for somewhere to park and enjoy our picnic, and finally found the recreation reserve at Greenock, where half the local population had gathered to play in bouncy castles and picnic together. We found a spot under trees in the shade, away from the people noise, but among that of a variety of raucous birds and satisfied our hunger.

Seppelts family mausoleum

We then drove on to Noriootpa and stopped at the huge industrial complex of the Penfold’s winery, with even more determination to find a wine to suit our tastes. As with all these places, once the professional staff have started pouring the taste tests into the beautiful glasses and expounding their virtues, it would be ignorant to walk out empty handed, and so we decided on a couple of bottles that were acceptable; a shiraz cabernet and a Riesling, both available only here at the cellar. The first was enjoyed with yesterday’s beef casserole and the other has been put away for Christmas.

We detoured off the heritage trail to Light’s Pass to investigate the two spires seen from the main road, and found, as expected, that they did indeed belong to Lutheran Churches. Nearly all of these small settlements have two to three Lutheran Churches, having at some time or another broken free from the first, and then sometimes the second, Lutheran congregation. By all accounts, the people of the Barossa Valley are still very religious and conservative, however apart from the number of churches about, we saw no particular evidence of this.

As we drove the last of the figure eight loops the heritage trail made, we came over the top of Mengles Hill and stopped at the sculpture park, walking among the sixteen works of art, the first created in 1988 and the last eight in 2008, with a wonderful backdrop of the beautiful colourful field of vineyards, grain and settlements lying below.

It is indeed an amazingly beautiful area, an absolute gem in this lovely southern state and no surprise that it is so famous as a tourist destination.

As we drove along the edge of the airfield, we watched gliders ready to be towed and those that had recently landed. It had been a good day for flight unlike the two before.

This morning we set off once again in an attempt to tour the rest of the Barossa Valley, the ranges about and the Eden Valley. Our route began on the same exit out of Gawler but turned south east toward Williamstown, calling into the Whispering Wall. This is a rather tantalising name for the curved concrete dam wall at the Barossa Reservoir, this 140 metre long wall was constructed in 1902, and as such was the first of its kind. Apparently if one stands on one side of the valley and whispers quietly against the wall, the secret will be heard across the other side by placing one’s ear similarly against the wall. We took their word for it.

On through Williamstown, population 1,431, home to several cellar doors and associated vineyards, and of course the inevitable delightful ancient buildings all still in use.

From here we travelled east, twenty kilometres across the range, here beside Mount Crawford which actually does not stand out much against the other elevated land about. Most of the agricultural landscape was either pine forest or cattle grazing land, with patches of vineyards. All distances between these settlements are relatively small (nine to twenty kilometres or so) especially when compared to the vast distances between settlements we have travelled though over the past six weeks.

At Springton (population 330), we headed a few kilometres north to a lookout from where we looked all about and over the Eden Valley. Like the Barossa, the Eden Valley was settled initially by English immigrants closely followed by German’s, most escaping religious persecution. They cleared their land, but only enough to allow their sheep and cattle to graze, and to plant modest vineyards, to build their houses, churches and shops.

Frau Herbig's first home

Springton is particularly famous for the story of one of its earliest settlers, Friedrich Herbig, who arrived in 1855. He was thirty when he married his teenage bride and brought her to their matrimonial home, the base of a gnarled gum tree. There they lived until after the second child was born, when they moved into a new homestead across the road. Frau Herbig went on to have a further fourteen children who in turn produced fifty one grandchildren for these pioneers. The Herbig family have set up an informative display in the tree and one of the descendants has written a book about the family. It would be interesting to read; perhaps I shall come across it one day in a book sale.

After spending some time reading these interesting tales, we drove south west to Mount Pleasant (population 593) and on to Birdwood following the Torrens River, that which finally flows through Adelaide before reaching the sea. Mount Pleasant is famed for its annual role in the Sprint Auto Parts Rally SA, but for us it was yet another quaint old settlement to be passed through.

At Birdwood, we found the recreational reserve, took out the eski and our deck chairs, and sat under gums serenaded (if squawking can be considered a serenade) by galahs and cockatoos. Then we drove back into the centre of this attractive little settlement and parked by the National Motor Museum. This museum is Australia’s biggest motoring collection and has over 300 vintage, veteran, post war, classic and modern cars, commercial vehicles and 100 motorcycles. It is nirvana for most males (and the rare female) and I encouraged Chris to go off and enjoy it all, leaving me to read in the shade. I spent the first hour consuming the newspaper, disappointed to see the only mention of New Zealand’s election a small column on page three of the business section, relating to the possible investment of New Zealand’s state assets by Australian banks. The second hour was spent with my head in the book I am currently reading, Bill Bryson’s treatise on western domestic history, that is, of the home. I am so enjoying it but rarely have the opportunity to spend more than the minutes before I fall asleep. And so we were both spoiled this afternoon; I with my literary immersion and Chris in finding the first car he ever rode in, the car he learned to drive in, the first car he owned, the cars his father owned, the cars he himself owned and those we had together including our Audis and the Mitsubishi 380 we sold before setting off on this big adventure. 

We returned to Gawler via the hills, travelling through more livestock farmed lands dotted here and there with vineyards, cherry orchards and alpacas, descending the range to the south west of the city, called in to Coles and loaded up the shopping trolley with enough to earn ourselves an eight cents a litre discount on fuel and returned to the airfield, finding ourselves still the only campers here.