Another cold night made for excellent rest. After the last few weeks of temperatures up in the 40s, it is a bit of shock to the system to wake to mornings of about 14 degrees. When I changed the linen this morning, I was tempted to add extra layers over the mattress but thought better of it; within days or certainly weeks we will be back to the heat of summer. It is January after all.
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| The gardens of the Umpherston Sinkhole |
This morning we checked out the Umpherston Sinkhole, a sunken garden originally beautified by the then land owner James Umpherston when, in 1886, he tired of farming his 168 acres of land, and decided to do something with the big hole at the bottom of the garden. In those days there was enough water in the hole to float a boat, a rather romantic touch on the amazing gardens he designed. When James finally expired in 1900, presumably after his wife, the property was left to his nephew who in turn on-sold it until much later after several owners, a logging / milling company took possession. Obviously the employees had enough time on their hands to consider the long neglected garden, and so under the umbrella of their social club, restored it to its former glory. Today, great curtains of ivy hang over the side and form a back drop to the sculptured garden, a show piece to hydrangeas, hollyhocks, hibiscus, ferns and a host of other lovely garden plants. It is a popular tourist destination, today in particular full of Indian families photographing each other in this excellent garden studio. It is now part of the city’s assets, either donated or sold by the timber company. The social club can now spend their weekends water skiing and picnicking at one of the lakes rather than taking part in Umpherston Garden working bees.
Chris picked up a large container of de-mineralised water for the batteries and remarked to me after he had topped them up that the water levels had been quite reduced since the last recent check. They do get to work hard so it is no wonder and maybe this incredible atmospheric heat has some impact on them? What would I know? Absolutely nothing! In fact if motor matters were left to me, we would be driving around in a filthy vehicle, with bald tyres, dry batteries, et cetera.
After lunch we went for a wander down the main street, mainly to attend to a couple of business matters but with time to stop and admire the buildings and town as a whole. Mount Gambier is after all a rural centre, but it can boast a lot of very classy shops, and still remain a real people’s town, or should I say, city.
We called in to the Riddock Art Gallery, part of the revamped Institute and Old Town Hall. While some of this redevelopment is still on-going, the gallery was open and busy. There is an exhibition of local artworks where the community as a whole had been invited to contribute with artworks of A4 size, much of it vibrant and pleasant but little of great merit. There is also an exhibition of “highlights” of the gallery’s collection, including quite a few very good paintings of the crater lakes, and then, there were two pieces of sculpture by Patricia Piccinini, a Sierra Leone born English – Italian woman, but really an Australian since childhood immigration.
Her work is thought provoking as it examines the narrow lines between humanity and technology, and shows incredible skill of media use. The human like creature, “Big Mother” is fabricated from human hair, fibre glass and other materials; a creation of such intricate detail, it is mind blowing. Move over Weta Works!!! We spent some time browsing through a book of her work and a magazine article, and watching a film clip of the artist herself discussing and explaining her work. While it might shock or even repulse you, I would encourage further investigation of this woman’s work. I did a quick google search and there is plenty on the web about her and her work. For me this moving exhibition, albeit of only two works, was the highlight of the day. These are now owned by the Riddoch Gallery so should still be there if you are encouraged to call in yourself.
We returned to the caravan park, in plenty of time for Chris to see the last session of the cricket test for the day, however he got rather waylaid by the two women in the Winnebago motorhome next door. (He can never resist a motorhome!) His coffee was rather cold by the time he emerged, but I am sure the distraction of these two travelling women (and their mother) will have added to his day. The test was over, Australia had thrashed the Indian’s, and Chris had missed all the action. Never mind, there is the Brisbane tennis on later.
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