Views of the Blue Mountains

On my walks around Pinerolo, Blackheath

Taking a daily walk at around lunchtime helps to clear my head, rest my eyes and refresh my creative mind. Having a completely new neighbourhood to explore while down in the Blue Mts of New South Wales, filled my walk with unexpected surprises and treasured moments. 

For example, I did not know that the State Flower of New South Wales, the Waratah, would be in full bloom at this time of year. And there it was, popping up proudly and sporadically, surprisingly bright,  red and vibrant against the muted eucalypt greens of the Australian bush. Wow, just wow!

The area around Pinerolo children's book cottage in Blackheath was breathtaking.

The road I walked along was often shaded, always lush right to the edges, and reminiscent of my childhood home in New Zealand. Emotions rose to the surface as I kept up a steady pace.

A country gate stood open, inviting. I could almost smell the tea and scones.

A single waratah fought for room within a cottage garden.

And then my heart stopped. 

I saw an orchard. An old orchard with mature apple trees that had been structurally well-shaped, but that now needed pruning and treatment for canker – a fungal disease which damages tree bark and can make the tree particularly vulnerable to insects and bacteria, and can affect the fruit. 

I could just hear my father's voice in my ear, telling me this. And strangely, I felt close to him then and missed him even more. He would've knocked on the door of that orchardist's farmhouse and spent a happy hour or so touring the farm and discussing horticultural methodology with the owner. 

It was his bliss.

As a child, no holiday would've been complete without a bit of drive-by 'orchard spying' and the obligatory visit to the tractor sales yard.

Apparently the entire area around Pinerolo was well known for its apple orchards, though most now had been turned into acreage lots and hobby farms. It reminded me so much of our old orchard farm in Oratia, New Zealand. Only the sign on the picket fence spelled out Australia.

Heady scents filled my head as I kept walking.

And came upon another gate slightly ajar, beckoning. It lead into a beautifully manicured, park-like garden. I could live here, I thought. And it snowed in winter, which was a bonus.

An Italian farmhouse looked completely at home

with the cottage gardens

and waratahs...

Days 19 - 23 Glimpses of Victor Harbor

The Anchorage, Victor Harbor, SA

The Causeway leading to Granite Island from Victor Harbor

Beautiful Granite Island

Home to a penguin colony

The penguins' version of Hobbiton

Looking back at the town of Victor Harbor from the top of Granite Island

Penguin bronze

The Grosvenor Hotel

On my way out to dinner one night I found an old man in a wheel chair rolling along on the road. He was really struggling and had one arm bandaged. 'Do you need a push?' I asked. 'Oh, yes.' 'Where you off to?' 'The pub.' 'How'd you hurt your arm?' 'I fell out of my chair.' 'How'd you get here?' 'By taxi.' Hmmmm.
The staff at the Grosvenor Hotel knew him well, when I finally pushed him in there, laughing to myself. Apparently he absconded regularly from his nursing home. The people you meet.

Gorgeous flowers on the street

The horse drawn tram that crosses the causeway to Granite Island

In memory of the whales who perished when it was a whaling port

The town's first public toilet, 1867

Day 18 in the Burrow

Government House, South Australia (I'm having breakfast there on Sunday as part of Writers' Week)

I have a thing about visiting old houses. The sensory detail you can pick up from walking in the footsteps of people from history is inspiring. I know it will inform my writing in the future as I breathe in the airs and graces of a bygone era and imagine myself suffering the hot summers of Australia dressed in layers of petticoats and cuffs.

On my girl's last day with me in Adelaide we visited Ayers House, which is opposite the Adelaide Botanical Gardens on North Terrace. Now in the hands of the National Trust the interior of Ayers House is of national significance. From the outside you don't expect a house that is actually three storeys high, all habitable. Designed by colonial architect, Sir George Strickland Kingston, the two imposing bay windows hide the grand ballroom (now unfortunately a restaurant) and the official dining room, where Sir Henry Ayers held state dinners while he was (seven times) Premier of South Australia.

Ayers House

It was 37 degrees Celcius on the day we visited, but the underground floor with its low ceilings was beautifully cool and fresh. And this is where Sir Henry had furnished and decorated a suite of rooms for his family to use during the very hot summer. Clever man.

Adelaide Railway Station

Few people may know of Mary Lee. But she was a staunch fighter for the rights of women in South Australia. In fact it is here that Australian women first gained the right to vote and also (and this is quite amazing) stand for parliament in the same amendment in 1894.

Mary Lee (details below)

Then through the searing heat we dashed into the Migration Museum. As the child and grandchild of Croatian immigrants to New Zealand (over 100 years ago) I am always fascinated by the stories behind their sacrifices. And it truly is a sacrifice to leave everything and everyone you know behind. I've only had to leave my family behind for a month while here in Adelaide. But just imagine knowing you'd never see them again. It would be beyond me.

The Migration Museum Memorial

The Migration Museum (formerly Adelaide's Destitute Asylum)

The Rings in Osmond Terrace, Norwood. Each one tells an anecdote by a family from Norwood's past.

Day 17 in the Burrow

More good times at the Adelaide Fringe Festival with my girl.

This time the highlight was Circolumbia - a fusion of Latin beats with hip hop street music, drama and circus stunts to stun. Awesome!