Wednesday
August 16, 2012:

There seemed to be an unusually large section of somewhat outrageously
dressed, long haired, tattooed, pierced people about. All was explained when we
found that a jazz festival was to be held in town over the weekend. Later in
the day Gary (with whom we spent the night) said that they had considered
buying in Bellingen or the valley, but felt that there were too many hippies there.
We had thought that the term ‘hippy’ had
disappeared from the language some years ago, but apparently not in
country Australia.


Our overnight stop was with good friends Bernadette and Gary Henderson. They were in Wagga Wagga when Matt
had his accident and were so good in giving us and him such great care and
attention as we worked our way through that awful time. Gary
had finally retired and had decided to move back to what is termed the New
England part of Australia,
since he and Bernadette came from that part of the country. They had chosen Kendall as their base because it ticked off so many of
their requirements – and was hippy free.
Our old version of Kendall didn’t show
the development where their house is since that was done after the map in the
GPS was produced. So Tom simply lead us on the main road to a position opposite
where the house was, but couldn’t tell us how to get there. My sharp eyed
navigator spotted a likely route and before too long we were drawing up at the Henderson home to a warm
welcome from the two of them. The house is comfortably large – it will
certainly accommodate son Troy and his family
for holidays – but Gary’s
pride and joy is what he terms a ‘shed’. In Australian terminology a ‘shed’ is
usually a fairly small structure at the bottom of the garden where menfolk can
retreat to and perhaps have a couple of beers with their pals while watching
sport on the old TV set when they are not working on the latest ‘Honey Do
List’. Gary’s shed has six roller doors giving him
access to his very large workshop and enough room to store his boat, his two
vintage MGs and to work on the 1942 model US Army Jeep he inherited from his
father.
He had just finalised the purchase of a new boat to replace the little
tinny that had given him good service for many years, but was now a bit on the
small side for the sea fishing he had in mind, launching from the nearby ramp
at Laurieton. He had only just realised that the boat on trailer might not
clear the roller door and after some
frantic measurements and negotiations he had arranged for the windscreen to be
lowered by a couple of inches to clear it. So far so good, but what about the
length? Did the length in the catalogue include the engine – in which case the
boat would fit. Or did it not – in which
case the craft wouldn’t fit – unless a hole was knocked in the back wall. The
matter was unresolved by the time we left….
We were sitting round chatting with a beer when Gary suddenly suggested we should see the
sunset and the view from the Lookout over Laurieton. No sooner said than done
and we were hurtling through the gloaming – Gary always had a bit of a lead foot,
developed over years of driving over largely unpoliced country roads. We
rocketed up to the peak above the town and although we missed the actual sunset
by about five minutes. The view was still pretty good though – water and
sunlight make a good pairing.
We drove on down to the beach which looked as good as most Australian
beaches are – and as potentially dangerous. I could see a couple of areas where
there seemed to be a pretty strong rip. Gary
confirmed that the recommended end of the bay for safe swimming was well away
from there. The beach is about 15 minutes from the house, so that’s pretty
convenient. We drove back through the town which seemed to have all the basic
amenities. The one aspect of the situation which would concern Rab is that the
nearest hospital is about 40 km away.
We had a hearty meal and although the Henderson’s spare bed is a little softer than
ours is, we snuggled up and snoozed the night away.
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