I’m not a fan of either Sting or Coldplay, so it’s annoying that Fields of Gold and Yellow run through my brain as we drive through the south of New South Wales. Thousands of hectares of canola plants are in full flower, and if you think you know the colour yellow, I’m telling you you have no idea until you see these iridescent, fluorescent, luminous flowers flowing down hills and sweeping across plains for kilometres. Wheat, barley and other crops are a plain second to the compelling glory of the canola flowers. Photos do not do it justice, but here’s one – of several hundred taken.
We arrive in the Heart of Gold (enjoy Neil young) by way of our inland drive from southern Queensland. Lightning Ridge and Bourke are another story, coming soon on this blog. Dubbo saw us meet with friends Eleanor and Phillip who drive from Newcastle to catch up – last seen more than a couple of years ago. So what do we do? We go to the zoo. Typically mention of a zoo would see a deep lack of interest, but this is a zoo of another kind. Sydney’s Taronga Zoo has a satellite just out of Dubbo – the award winning Western Plains Zoo. This is an outstanding facility with nary a cage in sight. The open range design replaces walls and fences with clever use of islands and moats which, while dividing the animals from visitors still gives an impression of actually being with the animals. So you can walk, bike or drive around the five kilometres of track through the park, which incidentally covers 300 hectares. Being daredevils, we hire a golf cart and let Eleanor drive.
We watch a tiger take a poo, see otters dismember yabbies, marvel at the number of giraffes (there’s a breeding programme for several species), wonder how hippos swim, laugh at the antics of ring-tailed lemurs, and close our ears to the screech of Tasmanian Devils. It’s a great afternoon and though clearly it’s not the equivalent of an African safari, it’s miles better than most captive environments.
It is about now that rain stops play. Three glorious days in Dubbo then the rain sets in and refuses to stop all day and all night. As we are now in the low lying plains, and there are lots of rivers – Dubbo is on the Macquarie River – and there was a lot of rain the week before our arrival, there are floods across roads everywhere. Travelling south there are detours, closed lanes, and opportunities to drive through very big puddles. The paddocks are sodden and look like lakes. But the rain eases and we carry on.
About 20km north of Parkes, we detour out to the CSIRO Parkes Radio Telescope, star of the 2000 movie The Dish. The movie (comedy/drama) is the true story of the role a group of eccentric Aussie scientists play in relaying live television of the 1969 Apollo 11 mission. To NASA’s dismay the Aussies are the world’s only hope for receiving the historic images of man’s first steps on the moon. As in the movie, the giant dish stands impressively over surrounding farmlands – a sophisticated piece of scientific equipment ironically in the middle of sheep paddocks. There’s a terrific information centre with engaging hands on displays and lots of interesting, but less engaging, information – enough to make your brain hurt. The Dish started operating in 1961, but has been upgraded several times to keep the telescope at the cutting edge of radio astronomy. The telescope is now 10,000 times more sensitive than when it was first commissioned. Also on display is an astro photographic exhibition with competition winning photos which are glorious. If you haven’t seen the movie, do see it – it stars Sam Neill, pretending yet again to be Australian – when we all know he’s a Kiwi.
Our next foray into history is by way of a much longer detour to Temora, where we hear there is an Aviation Museum like no other. It is set up to be a flying museum, so all fifteen of the historic aircraft fly regularly. The collection includes the only two flying Spitfires in Australia, along with a Tiger Moth, a Canberra bomber, and the only Australia built fighter plane, the Boomerang. It is a well set up exhibition with exhaustive technical (and, I’d say, exhausting for all but the most passionate enthusiasts) information. I prefer the stories and videos of old pilots talking about their exploits, and giving lie to the saying there are old pilots and bold pilots but no old, bold pilots. Eight full time engineers keep the aircraft in working order and most months there’s a Showcase with flying displays, informative commentary, interviews with pilots and veterans and so on. Sadly, and typically, we are not here for September’s. One of the wondrous, and not in a good way, things about travelling is you are often a week late or a week early for what sound like must-do events. FYI, Temora alternates the Warbirds Down under with Wanaka in New Zealand.
We fly home in a couple of weeks and I owe a blog on Lightning Ridge and Bourke, and on whatever we do between now and the end of the month. So stay tuned – by radio telescope if necessary.
