It's gratifying to see some Easter traditions linger. Thanks NSW Minister of Transport for the roadworks. Travelling the Hume and Pacific Highways is a joy at the best of times and the perfect location to appreciate Tradie Rage - gleaming 4 x 4 twin cab utes up your arse! So good an experience, it should be shared. Rego plates remain a constant source of amusement - a VW Golf labelled "GILOPY" and a Rav 4 that's JODEZE.
Having bypassed Wallacia we late-lunched at Ourimba Rest Area in a homage to past Aussie music fests where we were serenaded by Whip birds and Bellbirds in the surrounding bush "By channels of coolness the echoes are calling............The notes of the bellbirds are running and ringing. The silver voiced bellbirds, the darling of daytime!" (Henry Kendall).
Getting off the Highway is the only way to appreciate off-highway Australia. Sticking to the main trek north means you fail to acknowledge what a rich cultural treasure trove is the Port Stephens area. The world renowned Stardust Circus is enticing customers at Old Anna Bay Oval with "International" clowns, trapeze artists and dancing ponies! In addition, We are persistently admonished to "Rule the Sands" on a steed from Quad Bike King.
As the Trump hospitality empire is yet to be introduced to The Antipodes, we settled for the Nelson Towers Motel handily located near Port Nelson's culinary centre. Our motel host regaled us with the latest words of wisdom from Alan Jones, and the post-hibernation plans for his beloved North Sydney Bears before we headed out for dinner. Selecting the Greek operated Nigroni Italian restaurant we entered a rococo interior so authentic I expected Joe Pesci to burst in and shoot up one of the vast faux chandeliers. First impressions however are not to be trusted as I relished a plate of slow-cooked lamb shoulder straight out of Shirley Valentine. Replete with facilities (men dress to the left) and a fine American Graffiti flavoured playlist (Goodnight Sweetheart by The Overtones), we finished with short blacks and sambuccas before hitting the sack. It's a tortuous trek to Coffs Harbour where we will meet up with son James.
James commented his cuppa smelt like Earl Grey but that was attributed to my shaving cream slathered face. An offer of a breakfast mango bikkie from the mini-bar went unheeded. Crowding 9am, James turned down the volume on Joni's "Woodstock" on the iPod "because people might still be sleeping" and then apologised because that wasn't very Rock'n'roll. Watch out Byron Bay!
After driving from Port Stephens to Coffs Harbour, I thoughly enjoyed being a passenger to Byron. James took responsibility for tunes beginning with "The Very Best of The Byrds". My trusty rucksack of discs is on its last trip as our new car will not be CD-equipped. Still, I survived the demise of the 8-track cartridge.
Crawling up the Pacific Highway en route to Byron Bay gives you the opportunity to observe the minutiae of construction ~ a fluro-clad worker carrying a matching orange shovel. I wasn't close enough to see whether it was a Spear & Jackson No. 9 with the brass ferrules. Vestiges of Cyclone Debbie became apparent soon after Grafton, as did more frequent sightings of kombi vans. At Ulmarra, by the mighty Clarence River, a shop sold a selection of hand crocheted dream catchers.
Tasty egg'n'bacon rolls were savoured out back of the Ulmarra Hotel underneath the largest silk tree ever. Inside, a bushy in an Akubra exclaimed "Hooly Dooley" when his mate answered his question "What's new?" with "It's all new, It just depends if you were there at the time!". Now you don't hear that in the big smoke.
They say you can't halt progress. The Commonwealth Bank building at Woodburn has been reborn as Allure Hair Styling. A fence comprised of cut branches and surrounded by receding floodwaters has begun sprouting just before Broadwater. The parish Catholic church is now a cafe called "Our Daily Bread". Roll on big river.
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