Sunday, November 29th, Cooma, Australia
Bob: We tumbled out of bed around 8 o'clock or so, but Karen had already been up, breakfasted, prepared some sandwiches, AND cooked an entire chicken so that we could slice off some of the chicken breast to complete our sandwiches for lunch! I was amazed at her energy, because by my rough reckoning she had already been operating on less than 5 hours sleep the previous day, and she had once again popped up early in the morning to start work after another short night. How can she keep doing that? And where can I buy some of that energy? Anyway, after Karen left for work, Monika and I sliced some breast meat off the chicken while The Boys watched us with big, brown, hopeful eyes. I was so tempted to give them tidbits but knowing that Karen had them on a very carefully designed (and carefully cooked!) diet, I resisted the impulse. We finished packing and I put in the book of Australian poetry Karen had given us, written by an old friend of hers. It was an interesting volume with 366 poems, one for each day of the year. Cramming it all in the Huyndai Getz, (rhymes with "guts"), we were on the road south by 9 o'clock. South of Canberra we entered the Snowy Mountain region that is essentially the eastern edge of the Australian Alps. We fetched up in Cooma in the heart of that district by about 11:00 and visited a very helpful Tourist Information Centre where we obtained free maps and lists of places to stay or eat from a very friendly lady. They even had a comfortable upholstered love seat right beside the Internet terminals where we could peruse all that literature at our leisure and make plans for the next few days. |
Monika: We said a sad good buy to Karen and The Boys, Bentley and Button, and headed south the way we had come back yesterday afternoon. I forgot to check the map carefully and note that we were supposed to turn off the straight south road to Tharwa to get on the road to Cooma. I was busy trying to take pictures of sub-divisions, round-abouts, and shopping centers, and did not see the sign that directed us to route 23. So when we reached the rickety one-lane bridge paved with old, rotting wood planks at the town of Tharwa (picture below), I finally woke up to the fact that we had gone too far. I checked the GPS and the map and finally figured out we had to backtrack 6km back across the rickety bridge to a turn-off that would take us over to the correct road. Big "fault-ball" for Monika! [Editor's Note: A "fault-ball" occurs when one of us is clearly and unequivocably responsible for something going wrong. Monika was solely responsible for navigation at that point, so she got the fault-ball. We collect fault-balls during the day, and the one with the most at the end of each day WINS! It's kind of like the "Blame Game" that other couples play, but with clearer rules and inverse scoring. Everything clear?] The road to Cooma went through the same dry-looking scenery that we had seen the previous day, but with low mountains on either side. Cows were peacefully grazing on the dry pastureland, along with a few horses. I still kept an eagle eye out for Roos, since I knew they were in the area. |
Bob: In the end we decided on staying at Cooma as it was on our main route South and had a large assortment of hotels, motels, and bed and breakfast places. It also turned out to have a short walking tour of historic buildings in the town plus a historic 1920s era train that used to run all the way up to Canberra but now just ran on the section about 19 kilometers to the North. We decided to get a hotel near the center of town to be near the walking trail, and found several places that looked good. Signing in to the one closest to town, we made our chicken sandwiches (thank you, Karen!) and then walked across town to the train station. The train turned out to be a single motorized carriage roughly the size and shape of a large trolley car. The carriage itself had been build in 1926, but after WWII it had been converted from petrol (American: gasoline) to be powered by a war-surplus GM diesel engine driving a hydraulic torque converter type of "transmission". |
Monika: Cooma is a little larger city that is at the turn-off to the Australian Alps. Since they had a nice looking visitors center, we stopped to check what to do. We wanted to see the Alps and could either drive toward them and stop 60km west at Jenadyne but then have to come back when we were ready to head for the coast. So we checked whether there were things to do in Cooma. And indeed there was a lot: an old railroad that did excursions on the weekend and a city walk past all the historic houses. Since we were tired, we decided to find a motel in Cooma, sign up for two nights, and leave the drive into the Snowy Mountains for tomorrow. We booked rooms in the Greenleigh Motel. Now I know, that is the same chain that Karen rescued us from during Wanderung 20, but this one was newly refurbished, looked very respectable, was close to downtown, and best of all had no cracks beneath the door! Karen had provided us with lunch: sandwiches prepared with Avocado spread, chicken she had baked for us in the morning and I had sliced to put on the sandwich, and greens to top it all off. A last taste of Karen's cooking, sigh. We then walked over to the railroad station. They had long trips at 11 and 2 and a shorter trip at 1:00PM. That sounded just fine, since it gave use enough time to do some walking afterwards. Looking at the map, it seemed like it was an easy 1k walk. So we left the car and headed off through the downtown area. We then seemed to get to the outskirts of town and had to cross Cooma Creek. At first glance there did not seem to be a bridge. But when we followed the footpath there was a ford over the creek, no problem in these dry days, but probably not usable if there was a lot of rain. We bought our tickets at the stationmaster's house of the old railway station. They also had some used books and we picked up two Amanda Quick novels we had not read. The train itself was a small one car diesel train. |
Bob: We paid $10 (senior rate!) for a round trip ticket to go about 10 kilometers up the track and boarded together with a young couple with a 5-year old boy and a toddler girl. I sat in the front window seat on the way up and it reminded me of riding those old Illinois Central commuter train cars where the engineer sat on the right side and I could look straight out the front door at the rails winding out into the distance ahead as we went clickety-clacking and chug-chug-chugging down the tracks. The Cooma train was remarkably similar in sound and ambiance to the old IC trains despite the fact that it was diesel powered and they were electric. The carriage, like many trolleys, was of a double-ended design so we turned around at the end by the simple expedient of the engineer coming back to the rear of the train and operating it from there. We five passengers, of course, also took the opportunity to switch to the seats now facing the front even though technically we were in "economy class" rather than "first class" as we had been on the way out. (I could not see a smidgen of difference, of course, unlike the airplanes that we fly in these days!!) Monika sat up in the front window seat on the way back and tried her hand at taking pictures out in front. Once back at the station we chatted with the engineer and conductor a bit and then set off to join up the walking trail around Cooma's historic district. |
Monika: Bob sat in the front and I opened a window to take pictures. It was interesting that at the first intersection the conductor activated and de-activated the signal via remote control. At the next crossing, they could not do it, so the conductor and driver just checked the traffic very carefully, and despite the sign saying: "Give way to railroad" several cars drove through just before we crosed the roadway. We passed the stop for "Snowy Junction" and went as far as Banyon. There we had 5 minutes to stretch our legs and take "we were there" pictures before heading back. This time I got the front seat and really enjoyed the view right through the front window just like the driver next to me. After the train trip we decided to do the walking tour of Cooma. |
Bob: The most common theme of the old, historic houses, at least those that had survived up to the present time, was that they were made out of either large stones or large bricks. The walls were massive, to say the least. The old gaol, although originally built in the 1800s, was once again being used as a medium security prison and the concertina wire on top of those massive stone walls was shiny and no doubt razor sharp. I was sad to hear the voices of the convicts inside, however, as it was apparently a meal time and they were having dinner (supper?). We usually don't think of those in prison as they are shut away "out of sight, out of mind", but it surely must be grim to be confined to a cell for months or years of your life. |
Monika: We first went past the post-office, county courthouse, goal, and a very moving sculptural diorama of the trench warfare of WWI. |
Bob: The old Post Office, Court House, and Royal Hotel were, however, much more cheerful buildings. The Court House in particular was nicely landscaped and still looked stylish despite being well over a century old. The Royal Hotel had nice iron grillwork that I thought was quite pretty, but that turned out to be a "recent" addition, having been added in 1902 or so. |
Monika: We crossed the Cooma Creek across a very rickety bridge and went back to town along the oldest street where every second house was probably built in the 1860s. When we finally got back to the main street, with the magnificent Royal Hotel at the corner, we continued across the creek to a memorial of the "Southern Cross", an airplane that went down in the Snowy Mountains in the 1930's but was not found until 1958. |
Bob: By the time we had followed the walking trail back around to our hotel, however, we were both surprisingly tired. We went in to rest for a while and once again we tag-teamed using the computer to update our journals. Monika felt energetic enough to walk back downtown to purchase the fixings for dinner, but some time after she left I noticed that it was hailing outside! The hail wasn't very large, but walking in freezing cold rain like that is extremely unpleasant, so I closed the computer, laced up my shoes, jumped in the car, and drove off after her. Fortunately I found her at Coles and could drive both her and the groceries home where we fixed our evening meal and then read and computered for the rest of the evening. |
Monika: By now we both were tired enough to just go back to our hotel to read and write. Around 5PM I decided to go out for some Abendessen. Bob was still writing, so I decided to go alone. I knew there was a Coles grocery store a couple of blocks down the street. It was still open and I went for some ham and cheese. When I came back to the front to look for some bread I was surprised to see Bob. While I was in the store, a hailstorm had come through and Bob decided to come and get me in the car. I thought that was awfully sweet of him and was glad that we had not missed each other. We drove home, had our sandwiches and then just finished the day with reading and writing and enjoying the rainbow that ended the storm. |
| Index |
| Prolog | Map of Cruise around New Zealand | Map of Drive through Victoria | Epilog |
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