Tuesday, August 30, 2011

bobbin head

We decided to drive to Sydney for b1's 60th birthday bash. As The Other worked on Friday, this meant leaving late and driving through.
Happily, we are both so short it is easy when one is driving for the other to stretch out in the back seat and sleep [though seat belt buckles can require some padding for comfort]. As the night owl, I did most of the after dark driving and was delighted to cross the border into NSW and encounter some turns and dips in the Hume to relieve the boredom of what is, south of the border, the world's most boring road.

My lovely Sister In Law [SIL 1] was in her usual stressed state remembering and organising, and thoughtfully buying black sheets, red sheets, black serviettes, red serviettes and more in a similar vein to provide an Essendon Football Club theme for the fanatic. This must be love, because I am told the rest of the family [staunch supporters of the Sydney Swans], usually sit elsewhere at the footy if both teams are playing each other.

Sometimes it is hard to know when it is more useful to not try and be useful, but getting the sense that several people were avoiding the task, I volunteered to peel and slice 4 kilos of onions for the barbecue. What an enormous number of methods, potions and magic spells people seem to have for peeling onions without tears. Rather than have anyone realise I am simply devoid of any feelings or emotions, I started a rumour that the trick with onions is to never, under any circumstances, disturb the root. No tears, and with the judicious application of some bicarb soda, no onion pong left on the hands or chopping board afterwards.

Not only did I get to spend some quality time with family in a wonderful setting on a day when the weather was beaming, but made some new friends as well.


Bobbin Head picnic point is in the Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park, on the Hawkesbury River. The national park was established in 1895, and the kiosk and a few other buildings erected in 1936.







On the way home did the usual thing of thinking, five minutes after driving past, "that would make a good photo". For example, what would make anyone spend money creating a sign which reads
MYass
? The M, of course, was a McDonald's M, with no space to separate it from the name of the next town, Yass.

The one thing I did do was finally take a photo at Holbrook.

Where else would you put a submarine than miles from the ocean? There is a story that it was placed there by a submarine commander's widow - Mrs Holbrook - but the truth is it's really there so kids will have something to clamber over during a break in a trip along the world's most boring road.



2 comments:

  1. On the recommendation of a friend when we were driving to Sydney, we held out for cheap petrol at Holbrook. The place had closed down and we had some anxious time before we reached the next petrol outlet. Ah, so that is where the low fuel warning light is.

    The kiosk is a wonderful Art Deco building.

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  2. Hi Andrew,
    the kiosk was not only a wonderful building, I was impressed by the effort made not to completely destroy its character when modernising the food service. It was a pity I couldn't get a really good shot of the frosted glass on the doors.
    The toilet doors [inside] had some stunning veneer patterns. The woman in the information shop said the top floor is utterly amazing, but of course that was closed off to the public.
    Maybe a photo book of the building itself should be available in the gift shop as well as all the bird books and other usual stuff.

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