Let me assure you there is nothing sleepy about the Lowood Darts Club, if that is the name they operate under; it was a real humdinger over in the adjacent buildings last night, the band or the overworked sound system operating right up to midnight. Fortunately we are at some distance from the action and none of this was of any inconvenience to us, although I suspect the neighbouring townsfolk will be pleased it is all over for another year.
Instead, we sat up watching a rerun of “Rabbit Proof Fence”, a 2002 Australian movie that paints a very touching, indeed heart wrenching, side to the story of the Stolen Generations of aboriginal children, in this instance to those in Western Australia at the Moore River settlement. We learned much about this during our time in that part of the country and this balanced well with any social engineering theories we may have embraced along the way.
This morning after breakfast we headed across to Fernvale to the Sunday Markets, far superior to those in Ipswich, but not a patch on the Eumundi Market up on the Sunshine Coast. We wandered about admiring some fabulous steel sculpture that would have gone so well in our garden, if we had one, checking out the caged birds and laying fowls, sorting through DVDs and books, reminding ourselves that we are supposed to be downsizing rather than gathering, and finally came away with three over ripe rock melons and five kilos of potatoes. The melons were a disappointment because while they are massive, they require immediate consumption, and while I am a glutton for melon, indeed for most fruit, there is only so much one can consume. I asked the man selling the spuds where his garden was and was disappointed too to hear that these were “red dirt” potatoes and he had no idea where they came from. So much for “the garden to the customer” promotional spiel for market sold vegetables. Worse still, he had probably been there from 4 am so they were sitting out in the heat of the day for six and a half hours before we bought them. Fortunately I am speaking of potatoes not lettuces.
Quiet little Fernvale was buzzing with all the market traffic, even this late in the morning , as well as the holiday traffic heading up the Brisbane Valley Highway. We finally managed to cross the road to our vehicle and drove up to the Information Centre where we donned our trusty shoes and set out to complete the Lowood – Fernvale section of the Brisbane Rail Trail started yesterday. This short section was the most attractive, a sweep through farmland away from the main roads, past horses covered up from the sun, a small family of grey kangaroos grazing in the shade of someone’s garden, a pond full of water lilies just starting to bloom, all in the company of crows, passive magpies, peewees and willy wagtails. It was quite delightful and took us just under an hour. Now we can say we have walked the rail trail from Lowood to Fernvale, twice.
We called into the large modern Woolworths supermarket in Fernvale and spent as much as we do in any big shop, joining the queues and families, crowds and tempting goodies, and then headed home just in time for lunch. An excellent morning all round.
As we drove into our camp, we found dozens of cars parked up and all their occupants sitting at tables dressed in white tablecloths under the shade of the big open ended shed; another Christmas party underway. ‘Tis the season indeed.
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