Where the blue guns are growing
And the Murrumbidgee’s flowing
Beneath the sunny sky
Along the Road to Gundagai, Jack O’Hagan 1922
Along the road to Gundagai we drive, though the sky is not sunny and we are not headed for home. Where we stay tonight was once the Railway Hotel, though the railway through Gundagai no longer runs and it never did run past the hotel, named in hope rather than fact.
Now it is named in honour of the famous poets who gave theirs to the twelve streets and one terrace of the original town. Then in 1852 the great Murrumbidgee flood destroyed all but 3 of the 72 buildings in Gundagai and took the lives of almost 100 of its citizens.
The town is split in two by the river, the two parts joined by a concrete highway road bridge, another local wooden construction and the crumbling trestles of the abandoned railway. The houses now built on the surrounding hills, high above the river.
We have always stayed in South Gundagai, amongst the truck stops and fast food restaurants. Our preferred hotel, the Tuckerbox, was booked out, so we are staying at the Poets Recall on the northern side.
It’s not quite as nice, but it certainly is not unpleasant and is more convenient for the town centre.
Under high cloud, we left the house at 1.30pm, taking an early mark from busy work in order to start our Labour Day long weekend journey. B needs to get out of the house, despite all the work sitting on our plates.
I was surprised by the number of blossoming fruit trees along the Hume Highway. I don’t think I have ever noticed so many before. Traffic was reasonably heavy until after the Federal Highway turnoff to Canberra. That’s when I begin to enjoy the route.
The garden of massive kinetic sculptures, the wind turbine farm were elegantly spinning, curved blades scything slowly through the invisible air beneath a grey sky, though one suffused with patches of gold from the late afternoon sun.
There were patches of rain, sometimes even heavy. We do not stop, just keep driving.
I turn into Gundagai on the first exit, not the middle that the navigation suggests, recalling the days when I used to catch the bus between Canberra and Albury. I want to show the others what they have not seen before.
There is a turn off to a scenic lookout on Mountain Parnassus. I decide to take it on a whim, drive the steep and narrow road up to the top.
The reward is a magnificent view over Gundagai and the hills and fields beyond. The late day’s light gives the scene an almost magical aura, a sense of isolation and endless distances.
I am tired of driving when we check into the hotel, the parking spots filled with vintage cars on trailers, of old bloke smoking and drinking out of pewter mugs as they yak in Strine.
We drop our bags and walk into town to search for dinner. Gundagai lacks many choices. A couple of pubs, two country Chinese restaurants, a fish and chips shop.
It was a surprise to learn that the Hungry Jacks outlet had closed, with its video arcade and unfriendly interior, an unhealthy, but convenient “treat” during past visits. But that, along with McDonald’s, was on the south side.
Tonight we choose the Criterion Hotel, eat steak, lamb cutlets, schnitzel, typical pub fare. It’s decent tucker. We leave before the live band starts up in the outdoor area.
On the way back we stop by the Woolworths supermarket to stock up on snacks and breakfast for tomorrow. It spits with rain as we near the hotel, turns to full showers once inside our room.
I’m too tired to read a book, to do anything much other than watch some television. Tomorrow we take a new path, for us, into the Snowy Mountains.