Around Oz the First Time - Chapter 93 - Mildura to Echuca

Excitement in the camp. We are going new baby viewing. The excitement gets us up and out early, well focussed on getting going rather than other things we could be doing, like sleeping in, or in Robyn’s case, some work.

Just about to hook and go, Robyn gets a text from the new mother, they have been in hospital last night. The baby had a temperature and may have caught the virus her mother is presently struggling with. No sleep during the emergency, and still in hospital, they ask if we do not disturb them today. No problem, Robyn has work to do. We can go to Echuca, shop for provisions for us, grab a few essentials for the family and be ready for the following day.

The plan is to have brunch the following day, with the new parents and Robyn’s brother and sister in law, after husband Chris’s son from a previous relationship has gone to school.

Off we go, now without the “need” to get to Echuca quickly, we slow right down. Heading out of the park, having plugged a couple of the towns into the GPS we tootle off down the road with about 400 kilometres to traverse. The road through Mildura and beyond stays at 60kph for quite a long length of time as it wanders through a number of small hamlets along the river as it takes us towards our destination.

In January earlier this year, we spent a week on a houseboat here with friends. Meandering along the river, tying up to the bank and sitting and enjoying the company and the peace of the river, only broken by the odd boat or houseboat passing, catching lots of fish, carp mostly, but we did manage to catch a golden perch. Landing large carp created its own issues, given I didn’t pack a landing net, and we resorted to our friends grabbing a towel and me floating fish, some over a metre in length into the towel for final capture.

Carp being a pest are not allowed to be returned to the water. We fed the feral animals with over 50 of the pests, although the feral assortment in the area did not seem overly interested in increasing their Omega 3 levels. Like us, carp are not even on a menu let alone low on it ?.

During our period on the river, we passed a number of wineries and eateries. Travelling along now, we pass them from the road. Gol-Gol Hotel is the first one we recognise, then, all of a sudden, we find ourselves drawn into Trentham Estates Winery.

Now with time on our hands, we decide to have a hot chocolate on the grass, and perhaps purchase some of the lovely wines, purchased earlier (which did not make it home), particularly the Chardonnay and the Pino Grigio. The timing of our arrival is before the official opening time. One of the staff suggest we are more than welcome to sit on the grass for fifteen minutes before they open. In this period, we speak to our daughter and take many shots of the area to tease the friends with whom we shared the houseboat, as we had lunched here twice in our summer jaunt. They offer a platter of samples of their menu items to share amongst four, which was perfect for us. Each time we ate here we left not requiring dinner that night.

Its one of the “off” days and they are taking the opportunity for a little painting, so we need to carefully traverse and order our hot chocolates. We are ushered outside to the verandah to enjoy them for our safety. Finished, we return the cups and ask about the potential of restocking our wine cellar. Surprised, thinking we were only there for the cuppa, Imogen, the waitress/manager, assists us with our purchases.

With the painting, many of the wine bottles are sitting on the bar to allow for the painting of the internal parts of the bar. We talk to her about the wines we enjoyed last time we were here, which we will not be tasting now, because of the time, but will buy a mixed dozen, assuming we can find the wines. Imogen deciphers our thoughts and finds the appropriate bottles and secures them in a carton.

Paying for the purchases, we return to the van. I take a bottle of each and place them into the car fridge for sampling once we secure the van at Echuca.

Back to the road, getting the cruise control set, we are off in search of Echuca. The greenery of the irrigation area is quickly replaced with the desolation of the bush in drought. Then we return to greenery as we come back adjacent to the Murray. We are presently in New South Wales, but the GPS takes us back into Victoria at Robinvale from Euston. Regardless of the state the vista changes are the same most of the day.

In the irrigation areas, the creeks are full, but I suspect they are being used as water channels or storage. for the water. There are lakes we pass, all offering caravan parks, camping and boating pursuits. There is also an Ibis Sanctuary, this is a little incongruent to Bin Chicken Park, a dig at the urbanisation of the crane we saw in Darwin.

We look to fill up in Swan Hill, but all the fuel stops are on the other side of the road, and with roadworks and the river, I decide to continue on, the price in a rural area should not be much higher. Fifty kilometres further on, I fill up and we have a quick lunch. The fuel price is similar to Swan Hill, so no loss.

The speed limit along this road is 100kph and we are set to that speed, but the big trucks seem to be gaining on me. I increase the cruise control by 5kph, but the van begins to pitch and the consumption goes up, so I pull back to the original speed. With the trucks still bearing down, I need another strategy.

One opens up as we hit a small hamlet, the speed has reduced to 60kph and I can pull over and let the truck pass with ease. I get an acknowledgement of my actions from the truck as it passes, I have not slowed him down at all. Later as we collectively come up on a garbage truck making its rounds, rather than speed up just after we get around the garbologists, I sneak in ahead, maintaining the slower speed and the truck realises (as I have indicated to him) and passes again acknowledging my actions. The third instance is on a newer piece of road, which is yet to be line marked and is considerably wider than the earlier road. I get to the edge and motion the trucks past.

All three instances did nothing to reduce my drive, and kept the working trucks going at their pace. Everyone was happy, a much better outcome than yesterday’s effort by the truck sticking to my rear, no matter what I tried to do to allow him past and then, as I went to turn away from the road, almost ran into me.

Today’s efforts return my faith in the truckies, whom I have always tried to ensure their trips are not hindered by anything I do when I am on the road.

Echuca is an effort in itself. First the GPS, did not recognise the address of the caravan park, nor did it know the name of the establishment. I have put a close address number to get us generally close. We turn left, off the highway, as required by the GPS, but it would appear there are roadworks and bridge closures.

OK, we can do this. With the assistance of the GPS, there appears to be an alternative we can use and get “around” the roadworks. Off the main road and onto the side streets that are on the map, we soon find ourselves on dirt roads, enveloped by bush, trees overhanging the road, and even branches fallen onto it. Negotiating the road means ensuring we don’t hit trees with the van.

I think I am around the roadworks and we pull up onto the main road to find the bridge we need to cross, is also closed. It looks OK, but I suspect it is close, and is still blocked. Mrs GPS, we need to find another way. Robyn resorts to Mr Google, but both want us to go over the bridge. Not really wanting to go back to the highway, we continue further along the river, sometimes on dirt, sometimes on bitumen, with both the GPS and Google demanding U-turns or blockies to return to the blockage.

Finally, we find another “main” road and both the GPS and Google are happy to take us to our destination. Robyn deals with the site costs and we head towards the site. First, though we need to negotiate the drop chain gate, the first we have seen with this type of security. I wonder about safety, but these are unwarranted, all works perfectly.

The site is not very wide, and although the reception may have suggested we could attack it from either direction, our first attempt has the awning on the wrong side, meaning I need to approach from the other side to get it right. The site is not flat and I will need to adjust as much as I can with the legs.

Its hot, about 35 degrees, and once the van is set, I break out one of the bottles from Trentham to check we have purchased correctly. Robyn is going to do some work so is not interested just yet. The wine is as I remember it, and I enjoy a glass or two before we are in a position to head out for the shopping.

In the local Woolworths we sort out our wants, along with some extras for the new parents. The items they wanted and the ingredients for some pies and soups and of course some treats for all. We are relaxed, if you can grocery shopping, I suspect the wine may have had something to do with it, and we head back to unload and cook.

Pumpkin soup and spinach and feta pies are on the menu. I peel the pumpkin and dump the pieces into a pot. Robyn adds the condiments and lets it boil away. Starting on the cheese and other ingredient part of the pies first, I then head to cutting the stalks and extraneous bits off the spinach.

The oven in the van works much slower than our fan forced one at home. Having said that we almost forget the pies, saving the three on top as they are getting close to burning, we leave the lower pies in a little longer to brown. This “mistake” has gotten us a “better” version of the pies, in my opinion.

WE transfer the soup and the pies to carrying receptacles, refrigerate and head to bed, looking forward to landing on the doorstep of the new family with all our treats and gifts, sometime in the morning.