Wheat, Barley and Wine: Laura to Clare

Leaving Laura

Di and I deliberately had a late lie-in this morning as we'd been conscious that quite a few times recently we'd arrived at morning tea either before of just after Collis and Kathy. We thought that if we made a slow start they were more likely to catch up and pass us before we got to the designated spot. We were actually the last dressed and out of our tent, and the last to finish breakfast. Jacquei and Jim both looked ready to go, with Peter just a minute or so before being ready. It almost seemed as if Jacquei and Jim were waiting for us to go, as they had been standing around with their gear on for quite some time, so Di and I got on our bikes at 8:33 and said we'd see them up the road.

I paused at the northern end of town to take a photo of the CJ Dennis statue ...

CJ Dennis statue in Laura

... erected here because, apparently, this was "home" - although he was born south of here at Auburn.

One of Australia's best-loved poets, Dennis is perhaps most know for his "The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke", a novel about Bill the "sentimental bloke" told entirely in verse. There's a great bit in it where Bill, who is a larrikin, is at the theatre with his sweetheart Doreen. They are watching Romeo and Juliet, and Dennis paraphrases Shakespeare with excerpts of Bill and Doreen's whispered conversation and Bill's reflection on the whole experience of such an unfamiliar cultural experience. In a former life as a high school English teacher I used to have great fun with it from time to time in the classroom. Lines like...

"Wot's in a name she sez An then she sighs and clasps 'er little 'ands and rolls 'er eyes." 
A rose she sez  be any other name would smell the same." 
Oh wherefore art thou Romeo young sir
Chuck yer ole pot an' change yer moniker!"

...  are, of course very close paraphrasing from the play, but are merely there to set the scene for Bill's interpretation of the story. You can skip this next bit if you've got no interest in literature but you'll be selling yourself well short of getting the full whammy of what this blog is all about.

Anyway, here's Bill, the hard-nosed inner-city thug at his sentimental best ...

Doreen an' me we bin to see a show -
The swell two-dollar touch. Bong tong, yeh know.
A chair apiece wiv velvit on the seat;
A slap-up treat.
The dramer's writ be Shakespeare, years ago,
About a barmy goat called Romeo.

"Lady, be yonder moon I swear!" sez 'e.
An' then 'e climbs up on the balkiney;
An' there they smooge a treat, wiv pretty words
Like two love birds.
I nudge Doreen. She whispers "Ain't it grand!"
"Er eyes is shinin'; an I squeeze 'er 'and.

"Wot's in a name?" she sez. Struth, I dunno.
Billo is just as good as Romeo.
She may be Juli-er or Juli-et
'E loves 'er yet.
If she's the tart 'e wants, then she's 'is queen,
Names never count ... But 'ar I like "Doreen"!

I'll leave it there for now, but if you'd like to read the whole text you can access it here. You won't regret it.

Rolling On Down the Highway

Not too far out of Laura the fog started to lift and I sat up, pulled out the camera and shot this little video ...

Conditions continued to improve and we were sailing along without much effort. It was grand riding, and I started thinking about all sorts of things, as one does when one is having a good time on the saddle of a bicycle. 

Amongst other things, I reflected upon the comment my mate T-Barr made on the blog a few posts ago. Terry is one of my oldest friends - we've known each other for almost 50 years - and we came to Australia together 37 years ago along with two other mates. The other two, James and Kevin went back across the Pacific (sorry I missed your birthday the other day, James!) while T-Barr and I stayed Downunder.

Terry said my singing made him laugh, which then made me think about Danny Clark, the legendary track cyclist born in the rough-and-tumble Georgetown, on the north coast of Tasmania.  I had both of them in mind when I recorded this next video not so long after the first ...

I can only apologise for my poor voice, but my Mom always told me that it's the thought that counts. The song of course is an oldie but a goodie. I suggest you sidestep once again and treat yourself with this rendition by Al Jolson. Even better if you've got a Fox Hat Oatmeal Stout in hand, as I happen to have myself as I compose this.

A Less Than Ideal Continuation

We had an absolutely fabulous ride right through to when we arrived at the designated morning tea stop of Yacka at 46 kilometres. I had gone ahead of Di and arrived a few minutes before she did. We assumed that Collis and Kathy would arrive any minute but were non-plussed when 15 minutes ... and then 20 minutes passed. It was sunny and warm when we first arrived but it became cloudy and cooler almost immediately. We decided to fill our bottles and head off so we wouldn't cool off too much ourselves. I had just sent a text to Collis after 28 minutes to let him know that we were going on when he pulled up. He was apologetic but explained that the others were a long way behind and they didn't feel they could leave them. It turned out that Jim had decided to have a coffee in Laura. Jacquei followed him and waved Peter in as he was going past. This of course made the difference between us all being pretty close together and spread out over about 15 kilometres between setting off and having morning tea. Not so ideal, which we discussed and resolved later in the day.

After morning tea Collis wanted us to take a detour via the road that goes past historic Bungaree Station. It was a pretty neat detour, with great rolling hills. Here's a Google Earth look at what that short bit of road looks like ...

Bungaree Station detour

As we neared Clare, more and more fields of vines and wineries started to appear. As it was cool with rain threatening - and I was in a bit of a funk - I didn't take any photos. Also, in my defence, the road had got too busy to sit up and make a video as I was riding along. But, for what it's worth, here's a Google Maps view of where we travelled today ...

Laura to Clare

Again showing a weakness of Google Maps, the elevation gain was almost twice what is shown here.



Something else worth noting: we passed 3500 kilometres today, which is another significant milestone I guess.

When we arrived at the caravan park south of the town of Clare - 5 kilometres from the centre of town, not the 3 kilometres that Collis had said it was - we were a little non-plussed with the spot that had been negotiated for us to camp. Off in long, unmown, wet grass, across a deep and precipitous gully from the toilet block and camp kitchen it wasn't the most ideal location, prompting Jacquei to ask Collis if he was punishing us.

Nonetheless, we settled all settled in, and Di and I walked into town - having arranged with Peter to meet somewhere for dinner. On the way into town we were delighted to spy some of our favourite birds - the Red-Rumped Parrot. I took a bunch of photos, none of which were very good, but these two will give you a bit of an indication of what these sweet little creatures look like ...

There's the red rump!

A more decorous view

There are a number of much better photos taken by Di on one of our many sojourns to climb and hang out in Western Victoria. If you'd like to see more you can visit the Fine-Feathered Friends page on our SmugMug site.

We found that there wasn't much in the way of restaurants open, but that the Clare Hotel had quite a good-looking menu, so we plumped for it and sent a text to Pete to let him know that's where we were. Almost immediately Jim and Jacquei showed up, which was good because we had an excellent de-brief about how the day had panned out. Hopefully we won't have another situation where we all become so spread out that it creates issues with meeting up at morning tea or lunch.