~~ PART 1 ~~
It took two months to plan, five days to organize and two days to complete, but our '2008 G-Spot Barkada' pilgrimage to Young to pick cherries is now over.
So why spend two days driving around the countryside to pick fruit that can be got around the corner in the local Woolworths or other grocery store?
Well for a start, cherries straight off the tree taste bloody awesome. I would never have believed it, but they are far better than those you buy in a shop that have been off the tree for a fair amount of time already.
Also it is a chance to get out into more civilized parts of our nation, away from the stresses of home. For me personally, it was a chance to return to all those beautiful country towns I once spent half my life in, especially my beloved Cootamundra.
Please join us on our journey to Young and back. I will be covering it in a number of parts over the next couple of weeks, so please come back for a look.
NOTE: Click on pictures for a larger version!
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Good god, the alarm rings at 2am signifying the start of our first day.
We were due at Gina's by 3am and I knew it would not be easy to get the rest of the families bums into gear, despite the fact they would be able to sleep the whole day while I drive.
Having only gone to bed at 10am, and subsequently getting woken by the wife at midnight, two things had become apparent.
1) It was going to be an awfully long drive to our first stop at Goulburn.
and
2) I was going to need copious amounts of my favourite sleep delaying product.
I think we ended up meeting at Cecile's place, or perhaps it was Gina's. Who knows - I was after all asleep while driving. We did leave rather later than planned though, heading past the airport around 03.30.
Despite plans to go non-stop to Goulburn for breakfast, Pheasants Nest become our first stop to load up on Red Bull, examine the local bushpigs and evacuate our bowels before the second stint.
This is as far as most of the woman got before sleep time hit and they passed out for the balance of the way to breakfast time.
FERLIE PHOTO REMOVED
Arrival at Goulburn was in unison with a southbound train. While my railfan urges were trying to force me to set chase, my wife, and no doubt my mates in the other car, certainly would not have allowed such activity. Ahhhhh als, the life of a railfan is hard when traveling with 'non-believers'. :-)
Soon enough we were to arrive at Goulburn's iconic, and New Zealand's wet dream, GIANT SHEEP. It was here we had a 1 hour wait for the roadhouse to open so we could obtain their famous bacon and egg rolls.
Masarap, these bacon egg rolls which almost utilize a pig each are something not to be missed. But be warned, they are best in the morning, because at night they seem to be a bit tight arse when it comes to content.
Their Big Breakfast also rates very highly in the railfan community.
Anyway while we awaited breakfast we decided to get a group shot in front of the previously mentioned big sheep. Seen is our group, minus myself who was taking the shot and Gina who was still fast asleep in the car.
Some of us wanted to do more with the sheep than just get our photo taken.
While awaiting breakfast some rather impressive trucks rolled past with all the parts for some of those energy producing windmill thingies. Bloody impressive watching the drivers negotiate the roundabouts.FERLIE PHOTO REMOVEDL to R
Maria, Cecile, a rather stunning looking Ferlie, Ning's brother Onyo and Ning.
Goooooooooood morning darling - glad you could join us.Gina is awoken by the lovely smell of bacon and eggs, as well
as numerous photographers.Soon we were off from Goulburn and headed for the lovely town of Yass. This once busy place as turned into a quiet backwater since being bypassed by the highway.
Most of the group went for a walk down the main street looking at such exotic shops as 'Go-Lo' and 'Target' while your beloved barkada webmaster took off to the local railway museum to see whats been happening and then to the old Dutton Street railway line to get photos given it is now in danger of removal.
Soon enough I meet up with everyone again at Go-Lo and help to carry back the bags and bags and bags and bags and bags and bags and bags and bags and bags of shopping. Ay Naku.
This sign is probably one of the most photographed McDonalds
ones in Australia, if not the world.It takes a rather smutty mind to work out why. Can you?
Yass - The towns main street and shopping strip.
Tarago reflections!Sticking with my usual tradition, I took the back road to Cootamundra from Yass. It is a bit longer and, obviously, follows the railway line, but it also allows one to look at the rather sad looking towns of Binalong, Bowning and Wallendbean along the way. It also gives chance to see the rather large township of Harden (thats an 'e', not an 'o'. A common mistake for those smutty minded ones again).
~~ COOTAMUNDRA ~~
It is my favourite Aussie rural town, a friendly place, large enough to cater for almost any need.
Cootamundra is famous for being where Don Bradman (Australia's most famous cricket player) grew up, being the Wattle town and, hmmmm, well thats about it really.
For many years I would travel to Coota almost monthly in search of train shots and I made many friends, mostly with railway employees, down there. People in the shops I frequented were often surprised when I told them I actually live in Sydney.
I've long had a desire to live in Cootamundra one day, though now it would be hard to leave all my dear Pinay friends back in Smogney.
Scotty in Albert Park, Cootamundra.
FERLIE PHOTO REMOVED
Lunch in Albert Park, which was situated, rather conveniently,
in view of the railway line.
Our place of residence in Coota was this huge 16 person tent which was built while I was busily driving down to Junee in search of trains while others rested. My search was quite successful incidentally, the results of which appear on my railfan blog should you be hugely interested.Thus this brings us to the end of the first day. Join us later in the week when we go cherry picking at Young and encounter automobile dramas on the way back to Sydney.
Brad
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