Hopefully we will continue to enjoy weather as we have had today. After watching highlights of the final stage of the Tour de France on television, mourning the fact that no Australian (or even Kiwi) had scored any of the crowns and celebrating a break from sport (for at least a few days) over breakfast, we set off down into Grafton’s centre and walked about the streets to see what we could find.
Grafton, today with a population of about 17,500, is
located on both sides of the mighty Clarence River. It was established in 1859
and declared a city in 1885. Originally known as “The Settlement” and “Woolport”
and now known as South and North Grafton respectively, the two settlements were
linked in 1932 by the current double-decker road / rail bridge. The bridge, is one of a kind and is a major
feature on the Clarence River in Grafton.
Just like most of the other settlements up and down
this part of the coastline, Grafton was first opened up to white settlement by
the cedar-getters. A convict, escaped from Moreton Island (up Brisbane way),
discovered the district and the Big River, later named the Clarence, in 1831.
He found wandering cattle and figured out they must have strayed from the
settlement at Port Macquarie. Returning them and expounding the virtues of the
river further north, he was handed a pardon for his efforts.
Late in the 19th century some far
thinking chap started planting jacaranda trees about the township and today the
annual blooming of these superb trees is celebrated in a great festival. Alas
we are about four months too early although driving around today we could well
imagine how the city must look through October and November; there are jacaranda
trees everywhere.
The Clarence River rises in the McPherson Ranges
just north of the Queensland border and flows for over 400 kilometres, through
to the sea at Yamba. At Taree we learned that the Manning River Delta is the
only one of its kind in Australia, and yet the descriptions of this region use delta to describe the river here.
Perhaps this incorrect use of the word arises from the fact that there are
apparently over one hundred islands from here to the coast formed by the river
as it meanders through the fertile farmland.
Grafton also marks the start of sugar cane country
and the beginning of the Queensland-style domestic architecture; wooden
houses with high pitched roofs perched on stilts to allow air circulation in
the hot summers. Today as we drove about, we did see many of these wonderful
houses interspersed with a variety of modern and just downright shoddy
dwellings, however as far as the sugar crops? We saw none but did note a sugar shed
beside the rail line.
In town today we sought advice from cycling experts,
having nothing to do with the Tour de France but instead to questions and
discussions that have been swirling within our partnership for several weeks.
Over the past eighteen months of travel, there have been many times we have
regretted not having our bicycles with us. When we returned from New Zealand at the end
of June, I bought back my Sarah Ulmer
cycling pants in readiness for future cycling expeditions, however the
challenges have been not about what sort of bikes, or how much to spend on
them, but how to carry them. Bearing in mind that our landcruiser’s doors open
out from off-centre at the rear, that our drawbar is not as long as some which
can accommodate bikes and a multitude of other loads, that we have been warned
against carrying bikes on the roof rack of the vehicle or on the back of the
caravan, we were in an absolute quandary. The chap in the Jayco dealers in
Coffs Harbour suggested folding bikes and almost sold us a couple before we decided
to do some further homework.
Further investigation, checking out online forums
and chatting with the likes of these very friendly and helpful chaps today, decided
us that folding bikes were not for us and the plans we had or thought we had.
But then we were no nearer arriving at a solution of a carrier. Over coffee
this afternoon on our return, we decided to give the whole bike idea a miss and
continue to enjoy Australian cycle trails the same way we have so far; on foot.
And then after arriving at that final decision, a
camper came in with a very interesting rack mounted on the rear of their vehicle.
And so the problem was revived and we will muddle along with the whole matter
still unresolved.
Today I also picked up a copy of George Elliot’s Middlemarch which was subject to a column
in the Australian Review on the weekend. Apparently my life will not be
complete until I read this rather wordy 700 page novel. So much to read and so
few years to do so!!!!
And for something different we checked out the
Anglican Cathedral, built in 1884 which features impressive vaulted ceiling and
a host of lovely stained glass windows.
After lunch we set off out again, this time south
across the river to find the Grafton caravan repair man to organise the welding of our new jerry can
holders onto the back of the caravan. This will be done on Wednesday morning as
we leave the area.
We then drove into the centre of South Grafton, walked
up and down the main street and noted the drinking and drunk black, white and
brindle people either hanging about or attempting to make their way from A to
B. We purchased some local potatoes from an excellent greengrocer. There are
pubs and printers and one of those shops full of occult paraphernalia where one
can have their cards or fortunes read or perhaps link up with dead relatives
from the other side. Both the red and the white poinsettias were in full bloom,
as are the pyrostegia vines bright with their glorious orange flowers, but alas
the township of South Grafton did not impress us much.
Not wishing to hang about too much, we set off along
the road toward Glen Innes, turning off the Gwydir Highway a few kilometres out
and travelling north through Waterview Heights
and Seelands which we thought might be interesting. These very rural
rolling hills to the northwest of Grafton are home to those who enjoy living
near Grafton, but not in it, and prefer the company of kangaroos, snakes and
the birdlife that surely must abound, along with the odd horse, to the
inhabitants of Grafton.
We crossed the Clarence River on a long low concrete
bridge and headed back along the northern side of the river back to Grafton. We
made a point of driving past the Greyhound Club, which like the Showgrounds,
offers good value camping. While this second camp is further from the centre of
town than the showgrounds, it is quite attractive and the buildings around the
racetrack do not share the derelict nature of those at the showgrounds.
Despite any negative impressions expressed, Chris
and I like Grafton and have found the people here just wonderful, or at least
those we have engaged with in shops and services industries. The couple of sisters
who are camped next to us have spent a week here and are still having a
wonderful time. We booked for three nights; perhaps we might be encouraged to
stay longer?
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