KENDALL

Wednesday August 16, 2012:

The view from our room across the valley was a splendid way to start the day. We cruised back into town for breakfast and were pleasantly surprised by the number of cafes and by the look of the town, which we could see more clearly in full daylight. The morning sun was warm so we sat outside and watched the passing show as we waited for our Canadian waitron to bring us breakfast.  I was lining up to take a shot of Rab when a passing Kiwi offered to take one of us together, which was kind of her. She snipped off the top of my cap, but, as you’ll see, we were a pretty happy, if somewhat weather-beaten, couple.

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.

The tucker was good despite being organic and while we ate we had a look at some of the material Rab had picked up from the Information Centre the evening before. It seemed that there was a pleasant drive looping through hills and swamps down to cross the highway and go on to the old coastal road. There was a warning that there was a stretch of unpaved road and that for most of the drive a speed of 60 kph would be appropriate. We might have been put off had we had a standard sedan, but felt our four wheel drive XTrail would cope – as it did. The dirt road had been graded fairly recently and was in good condition. The slow speed recommended was due to the narrowness of the road and the frequent bends. We thought the road’s name – Boggy Creek Road – was pretty apt. Driving past the swamps was a first  for us – we’d never seen eucalyptus trees growing in standing water. They do seem to be very versatile plants, growing in such diverse conditions from the swampy tropics to the high alps where the snow gums look really out of place.

We drove the Pacific Highway for  two or three kilometres before turning off to Nambucca Heads, a very popular holiday destination but pretty quiet at this time of the year. You can see why people with families would flock here. Nice beach, great river with, it is said, good fishing. We stopped off for a stretch of the legs and a cup of coffee. Strolling along the walkway next to the river we saw an old boy with his line in the water with a somewhat disconsolate look on his face. Nearby a toddler was enthusiastically lobbing slices of bread into the water. Immediately the water would roil as dozens of fish – some quite large – squabbled over the spoils. Rab asked the fisherman if he had caught anything. “Not for the past two weeks,” he said, with a sad smile. Those who fish must surely be the most optimistic people in the world.

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.