I began writing this post as we were driving through the Riverland, heading for Mildura and then on to Balranald. We were on the way back from a lightning-fast trip to Adelaide to see the Jam-maker’s family. He was at the wheel, while I noodled on my iPhone taking photos with my favourite app, Hipstamatic, catching glimpses of the Murray when the topography allowed it, with olive groves, vineyards and stone fruit orchards filling the spaces in between. Looked like foodie heaven, but we’ll have to wait until next time to indulge.
The Murray River, somwhere near Renmark
We had left Sydney four days earlier; just the four of us – me, the Jam-maker and our two beloved fur-kids, Bill and Charlie – on a long-overdue ‘family holiday’. Our first stop was the Southern Highlands, an hour or two south of Sydney. Staying with an old friend who recently chucked in her corporate existence for a quieter life, we spent the afternoon walking around admiring the gorgeous (mostly still affordable) houses. Wandering along what passes for the main drag, we window-shopped the real estate agents, rekindling our own dreams of bugging-out. To make jam full-time from fruit grown on our own trees. Ah, maybe one day …
The next day started early as we headed out for the big drive to Balranald, our ‘half-way’ point this time around. Normally we break the trip in Hay, but the only caravan park that allows pets is frankly, ghastly. Luckily we’d discovered the beautiful, very pet friendly, Balranald Caravan Park, on the net. Built on the banks of the muddy Murrumbidgee, it turned out that it’s run by a fellow jam-maker, Wendee. In fact, we took the very pretty detour through the Barossa and the Riverland on our way back just so we could collect a box-load of jam jars for her. She sells her jams, made from locally sourced fruit, to all the visitors to the park. It’s safe to say that Balranald will be our half-way point stop from now on.
The river gums at the Balranald Caravan Park at sunset
With the critters in tow, dinner at the local RSL (for the ubiquitous country Chinese) was out, so we opted instead to make do with ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches. Sadly, the ham on offer didn’t look very appetizing, and it appears we’ve become serious bread snobs – ‘settling’ for a loaf of fluffy sliced white under sufferance! But paired with slices of smoked salmon, an avocado and some gooey cheese it made a fine meal.
Aside from visiting family, the main purpose of this trip was to collect a new addition to our family. Dorothy, Dot for short, is a tiny black Poodle/Jack Russell cross, a deliciously cheeky bundle of puppy goodness! OK, the wee laddies were seriously pissed off, but I’m sure they’ll grow to at least tolerate her (she says hopefully!). The hostile growling is beginning to subside already … Of course, now we have all the joys (and messy lows) of early puppy life to look forward to.
Our little black Dot (short for Dorothy)
So to the home stretch. We started this morning well before dawn – the best time to tackle the Hay Plain. Vast, desolate and usually a study in beige, at this time of year it’s washed with the vivid purple of Paterson’s Curse/Salvation Jane in vigorous bloom. I love driving through these kinds of landscapes – for some reason a 180+ degree sky opens up my lungs so I can really breathe. The only downside is that the roadhouse at journey’s end is such a disappointment. Is it really necessary to treat your customers with such disrespect? I mean, how hard it is to make a decent cup of coffee and to use fresh bread in your egg and bacon roll. McDonalds in Wagga was a major step up the culinary ladder – and you don’t hear that every day, do you?
Lloyd's Luscious 