River River
Trip Start
Jan 30, 2010
1
48
77
Trip End
Dec 01, 2010
Northam, Western Australia, Australia
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
So each town we visited had something to make us take time out to look or at least they tried (some things were not to our taste, or the event wasn't on as we were passing through). Corrigan is the home of the 'Dog in the back of a ute' muster; they are the record-holders with over 1200 cars lined up with dogs in the back. Remember, I did say quirky! Next was Brookton, with its old wagon drays and railway memorabilia cluttering up the council reserves and parks. Beverley was next, and her tourist hook is aeronautical. Planes on poles, planes in the local park and a plane museum in the main street have been set up (and concreted down) to pull in the punters. We looked but didn't really partake, staying in the car for a drive-through!
We had planned to stay in York, the next town along the Avon River, and one of the gems of the region, but like so many other 'popular' places, the price of accommodation was way too high. So we drove past it to Northam. We would return to York later, to sample its delights and collect mail from the post office. Northam is the 'big smoke' in the region, connected to Perth by a regular rail service and has the usual important services.
It is also home to a colony of wild white swans. They inhabit the river, are very tame (and just a bit greedy) and have become the unofficial mascot of the town. Black swans are native to Australia, they are even the Western Australian fauna emblem and we have seen many of them on our travels, so it was a bit fairy tale-ish when we encountered these elegant and graceful creatures in 'reverse'.
We explored Northam, walking around the lovely town, and admiring its old buildings and newer ones too. They are particularly proud of their new visitor's centre and the nearby suspension footbridge. Several towns along this section of the Avon boast footbridges across the river – and each takes pride in the uniqueness of theirs. Northam's is long, mostly metal and rocks about a bit. York's is the old-fashioned sort – wood, cables and very bouncy. Toodyay's is another thing altogether.
We ventured back to York the next day, as the weather was beginning to misbehave. There are lots of lovely buildings, and we spent a lot of time wandering around the town, enjoying the patches of sunshine and elegant architecture. However the acrid, smoky, leaf-litter smell that hung over the place (thanks for the bonfire, gardener person!) wasn't to our liking. We also got to know the post office and local courier's office quite well. We spent more time trying to track down Brigid's school work, which had been delayed (taking over 10 days to get from Sydney to York), than we did walking the town. Problem was that we were not going to be around when it would eventually arrive, so with some pleading and cajoling, the package would be forwarded to Fremantle (another week's destination away) when it did arrive.
A scenic drive, and fruitless lunch-spot hunt (lots of 'closed' signs did not make for open restaurants nor filled stomachs), took us back to Northam, where we spent the rest of the afternoon staying warm (the heater has been good for lots of things!) and dry in the camper as the weather closed in around us. It was also here that the girls rescued a native bush rat from the cold. We were staying at the local caravan park, which is a bit of a menagerie as well, with stocked fish ponds, lots of aviaries and kangaroos in the riverside paddock. In a brief lull in the rain, the girls went to have a look at the fish and the birds. They spotted the small marsupial, which seemed hungry, weak and cold, so they brought it back to the camper and nursed it. The camper's warmth (that heater again!) worked its magic, and by the time Dave and Bea (wildlife carers) arrived, the bush rat was beginning to exhibit more natural tendencies. Dave kindly called us later to update us on its prognosis – all good.
Mother Nature once again helped us to make our decision of what to do next. As the rain thundered down, we made that gut-churning decision to pack up and move on. Yes, another pack up in the rain, but this time we were prepared and the rain was kinder (it weakened to a drizzle as we packed up). So, early the next morning we were on the road again. Before leaving the Avon Valley, however, we stopped at Toodyay (pronounced 2J) for a look-see, a wander and breakfast. It is another pretty, historic town – its footbridge is wooden, wonky and very weathered (as well as being the path to the local high school) – and the main street had sufficient verandahs to keep us (almost) totally dry as we took it in.
It was then farewell to the Avon River ('avon' is Welsh for 'river' – so its name means River River!) and its very green valley. For the next few days we were going unpowered and exploring things temporal, contemplative and spiritual.
