Our first stop out of Dubbo was a petrol station to top up on petrol, having learned very quickly that the best process for diesel are definitely not to be found with the big companies, and are more than likely the ones out of town. To that, Petrol Spy has been an absolute god-send because the difference can sometimes be as much as 20 cents per litre. An added bonus is that our servo of choice stocked Rocko’s thongs and I was able to replace my black ones that were starting to get thread-bare with a shiny new pair of pink ones – just like the original ones I got from my afore-mentioned favourite store, Mr Cheap Lightning Ridge all those years ago. It was also here that Mark decided to get us coffee and ordered me a chai latte and brought it back proudly since he had remembered (one of) the coffee I like.
“A big Polynesian guy with a flower in his hair made it,” Mark told me, like that somehow made it even more special.
One sip and I realised that chai lattes are probably not big in Polynesian culture, and he just added what ever that was at hand that started with C – possibly curry powder. What ever it was, it was rank, and then I had to nurse the thing all the way to West Wyalong because I was afraid if I poured it out the window, it might strip the paint off the Pajero.
In this family, one can not simple drive past Parkes without dropping in to see the radio-telescope. We have been before, of course, and Mark through his nerd network has even managed to present PD there and step inside the dish itself, but otherwise we don’t seem to have much luck. Last time we were there, the coffee shop was open, but the visitor’s centre was closed because it had been broken into overnight. This time, the visitor’s centre was open, but the coffee shop was not (can’t get anyone to run it), and of course I was keen for one after tasting the monstrous concoction that I had left in the car because I couldn’t see an obvious bin.
We arrived in Narrandera mid-afternoon and set up in our first free camp of the trip, the Brewery Flat campground on the banks of the Murrumbidgee and just a stone’s throw from town.
We had not been set up for half an hour when there was a knock on the caravan door from a guy called Dean who said he wanted to welcome us to Narrandera, and handed us a photocopied page of his top seven “hand-picked” highlights of the town. At first, I thought it was such a fantastic idea for the shire to send out a welcoming committee. But then he gave us a $1 million note which he hastened to add was not real (you’re joking!) and a pamphlet of the conservative Christian rhetoric he was peddling and asked us if we had been thinking about God lately. We both chorused, “No!” which wasn’t entirely true, because at that very moment I was thinking “Jesus fucking Christ.” After he left, I did read his pamphlet, the gist of which seemed to be that vanity leads to a fall and all these “modern gods” who thought they had everything eventually come a cropper. Like Christopher Reeves thought he was Superman but fell of his horse, and Princess Diana had it all, but then was killed in a car crash, and then it went on to list a pile more of these “modern gods” – like Elvis Presley and Bob Hope. Bob Hope? What did he do to deserve the vitriol? He lived to a hundred, was married to the same woman for 70 years and he performed for the troops 19 times in USO concerts. Plus he died 20 years ago so I’m not sure how often the ‘modern’ part of ‘modern gods’ fits that! I think their propaganda might need an update. Otherwise, they are really limiting their demographic to people who are now in their sixties (at least) and old enough to have been exposed to Bob Hope movies in the Sunday afternoon movie matinees on Channel 9 – before sport was invented. Anyway, we would almost have given the campground 5 out of 5, except for him…and the men’s toilet that was clogged up with toilet paper.
Next to the campground are the ruins for whom the campgrounds are named, and which these days operate as one of the most impressive aviaries you are likely to see, as the corellas, cockatoos, magpies and pigeons have claimed it as their own. You can’t go inside the ruins as there is a private house at the bottom and it is fenced off, but it is heritage listed – not that the birds seem take any reverence.
Strangely, the brewery wasn’t even on Buggalugs’ photocopied list of Narrandera highlights which did include an Op Shop and a pedestrian footbridge. I guess this shouldn’t be too surprising, because this is the sort of town where signs proclaim streets to be the winners of prettiest street competitions – in 1992. Not even Lake Talbot made it onto the list, and I think that is pretty impressive landmark – a man-made lake that is bordered by the Narrandera Aquatic complex which I imagine is a hive of activity in summer. There is also a sky-bridge offering a great view of the lake. It was a bit overcast and cold when we were there though.
I had actually been curious to see Lake Talbot because of my enjoyment of the novels of Chris Hammer. I first read Scrublands which was set in the western Riverina district, and have since been working my way through his Nell Buchanan/Ivan Lucic series. Each of these books has been set in fictional towns which have been inspired by real towns. In The Seven, a body is discovered in a waterway which is clearly Lake Talbot, whereas most of the action takes place in a town that is inspired by nearby Leeton, home of Sunrice, palm-lined streets and an abundance of art deco architecture. Leeton is about a 20 minute drive from Narrandera, off the highway, but much bigger. It even has a Best and Less and a Maccas! It was easy to recognise some of the buildings that were referenced in the novel, but the stars of Leeton are the very real Roxy Theatre, the Walter Burleigh-Griffin designed water towers, and the Hydro Hotel.
The Roxy is a grand old art deco dame, originally opened in 1930 with the capacity to seat 1000 film goers. Today she stands in all her glory on one corner of the roundabout in the centre of town, opposite the memorial clock and looking down the street to the water towers. But it is at night that the Roxy really shines, Tarting herself up in neon. The water towers are also illuminated. For ANZAC day they show the faces of the fallen, but we were there in the middle of November, so the illumination was for the 75th anniversary of Sunrice. Perhaps not as poignant, but still a little pretty. Even the Hydro Hotel lights up, making visible the stained glass that is hard to see in the daylight. Having been told about these nightly light shows by the lady in the tourist info place earlier in the day, we went back to Leeton that night – early, to make sure we could secure our spot to take photos.
We were the only ones there, which honestly seemed a little sad.
Just outside Leeton is the village of Yanco. It has an impressive looking derelict power station, which is open to the public…on Sunday a moth or something crazy. There was an unlocked gate and we thought we might be able to snap a photo, but on the creaking of the metal, a woman appeared from the residence at the foot of the power station. What is it in NSW with residences in ruins…like literally, in them. However, she did let Mark send the drone up for a quick pic.
Anyway, we could easily have spent aanother day or two exploring Leeton, and even venturing out further to Griffith, notorious for the murder of businessman and anti-drug campaigner Don McKay in the 1970s, and another of Chris Hammer’s locales, but that will have to wait for another trip.
The Tent, The Trailer, The Caravan 
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