Suffering from a decidedly soggy case of the sniffles we bypassed the ambitious original plan to let Brünhilde (the beloved KTM 900 mortorbike) stretch her wheels and opted to hire a car. We got a pretty good deal through Thrifty with a few insurance upgrades thrown in and a 15% discount thanks to my membership with NRMA (just book online to reap the rewards, otherwise it’s 10% over the phone) and roared over the Blue Mountains in a nifty Suzuki Swift.

Our destination was Canowindra. Only 4 hours from Sydney, Canowindra has the misfortune of a perpetually mispronounced appellation. Out-of-towners are spotted instantly for asking; “How far to Cann- oh -win-dra?” Where locals and those in-the-know realise that it should be: Ca- nouwn -dra. (Obvs.)

We pulled into Orange to breakfast at Factory Espresso . This mod-oz brunch spot would be right at home in Newtown or Prahran. Housed in an old mechanical workshop, it is complete with a coffee roastery out the back and they serve house-brewed blends such as The Godfather and Decaf Redux which you can try as a syphon, cold drip and pour over coffee experience. I had the tapioca porridge, he had the eggs.

Slightly intimidated by the “bookings only” policy some local wineries enforce for cellar-door tastings, we found Canobolas-Smith (between Orange and Canowindra) for a taste of the local fruits of the vine. Murray Smith, I later learnt, was one of the early pioneers of the wine-growing scene in Orange. He’s been at it since the 1980’s but has kept the place a friendly, hands-on operation. The viticulturist amused us with tales of the Australian wine tasting scene while we sipped his spectacular chardonnay. I bought a bottle for $40 which left me feeling a little robbed but it did taste great.

The superstar standout treat of the trip was pulling up into  Belubula Cottage  , overlooking the Belubula Valley, just outside town. This place was recommended to me by the owners of taste Canowindra but my expectations were not high, so imagine my surprise and delight when the manageress, Marg, emailed me asking my favourite foods for breakfast! I should have known then I was in for something special.

We entered the little self-contained cottage to cosy heating and a kitchen full of treats like marshmallows and drinking chocolate, freshly bakes bread and butter, a stack full of Country Style magazines and bath salts just waiting to be sprinkled into the clawed bathtub which overlooks the bucolic vista outside. The place was heaven and redefines country hospitality. Marg had thought of absolutely everything, from plush robes hanging in the bedroom (think about it, when was the last time a mid-range hotel gave you that?) to cooking spices to go with the eggs and bacon she popped in the fridge. I have not stayed anywhere like this for years and couldn’t recommend it more highly.

Then, finally, we arrived (via the local, and only, cabbie in town) at Taste . A cultural hub in the rolling hills of the Central West, this is the place to taste the region’s best wines, enjoy gourmet food, arts and music, Bob and Marg Craven have created a perfect little niche. We had booked tickets to see the Deborah Conway and Willy Zygier show and dinner they were hosting, and we weren’t disappointed. Treated to the best seats in the house, we listened to the pair sing and play their way through their new album Stories of Ghosts  . Conway’s acerbic humour and sarcasm are nicely counter-weighted by Willy’s chill-factor but they are both a very entertaining pair. Washed down with a local red, we were escorted back home by our friend the taxi man, and curled up in our cast iron bed to fall asleep listening to the rain gently drum the roof.

Story by Estelle Pigot

 

On Thursday 11th April, creative portfolio website The Loop, some of Australia’s finest creative industry figures to celebrate the relaunch of their site.

Guests were given the opportunity to view some of the outstanding work that exists on The Loop. In the run up to the event, creatives with profiles on The Loop were  invited to exhibit at the party, giving them the opportunity to not only attend and network with some of the biggest names in the creative industry, but also to showcase, discuss and sell their work.  Works by Ben Brown, Simone Darcy , Hayley O’Conno r, Meeri Anneli , Julia Ockert and We Buy Your Kids were on show.

Design Federation’s Estelle Pigot attended and had the chance to catch up with Twitter acquaintance, James Noble, of Carter Digital , in the flesh. Carter Digital were appointed by The Loop to drive the design and development of the website’s redesign, creating a site that’s clean, easy to navigate, non-obtrusive and with very clear calls to action. The greatest challenge for these “Digital Httpsters” was to meet the highly aesthetic design expectations of the community The Loop represents? A challenge that would intimidate even the most experienced of designers.  They pulled together a team that included Sex, Drugs and Helvetica and Positive Posters founder, Nick Hallam, and delivered a damn fine job.

The Loop has grown to be Australia’s leading destination for creative professionals – it connects creatives with companies, collaborators and job opportunities from design and development to account management, animation and production.

The party took place at MTV, in Surry Hills and drinks were on Rekoderlig Cider, Mount Franklin, Little Creatures, Ketel One Vodka, Jim Beam and Jagermeister.

Create you The Loop profile today and connect to your creative community.

 

Image: Estelle Pigot at The Loop relaunch party

  A weekend escape to The Town That Built Sydney

 

The Dubbo XPT chugged into station after a carefree hurtle over the mountains and my travelling companion remarked “Oh, it’s cold.” to which a passer-by replied, “Welcome to Lithgow.” We braced ourselves against the mid-summer chill for a brief wait before switching to a Mudgee-bound bus which delivered us  out the front of the Railway Hotel, Kandos (population 1306). The bus was necessitated by the fact that the Gwabegar railway line hasn’t run through Kandos since 2007.

We had arrived in  The Town That Built Sydney -  home to NSW’s most productive cement works until it was abruptly shut down in 2011, never to be reopened. The local abundance of lime deposits in the Capertee Valley inspired the opening of the works in 1913. The town’s original name – Candos – was an acronym based upon the names of the six directors of the company and in their time, the works were the largest in the Southern Hemisphere.

Just west of the Great Dividing Range, Kandos is 3 hours from Sydney, the town features imaginative structures built in the ‘Spanish mission’ architectural style popular in California and whimsical Federation-era construction curiosities. Visiting for the inaugral Cementa 13 art festival, we discovered that the orderly company village facade (40 wide streets, all scrubbed and freshly painted, not a skerrick of litter in the gutters) does not do justice to the quirky township’s personality.

On the back of a Twitter tip-off, we tried our luck with the delightful hospitality of Marie and Barry Trounson of Kandos’s Fairways Motel (est. 1975 with the first guests through the door being the directors of the cement works) and found that there was room at the inn.

Marie, was born in Kandos and destined to be the town’s hostess with the mostess. Her determined work ethic, vivaciousness and generosity are all part of a personal philosophy to, ‘Do everything you can for whoever you can’  We were her good deed for the day when she arranged for us to catch an earlier bus home and with her husband driving like only a country man can, ensured we got to our connection in Ilford with time to spare. If only the dour barmaids at The Railway Hotel had been apprenticed in hospitality by the charming Marie!

She remembers the shock of the Cement Works closing, “It was like losing a member of the family.”  Although she notes that it hasn’t affected business at the motel which overlooks a tranquil 18-hole golf course and is on the fringe of the town (only a short walk to Angus Street). Marie’s sense of community is strong and it’ no wonder;Barry has been strongly involved in local business for many years, serving on the council and working with his son in the younger’s an award-winning winery (now closed, however the beautiful property is for sale if this article convinces you to take up a tree-change. Contact Richard Traunson, manager of the mixed grocery and fuel business in Capertee.)

The museum is a carefully curated trove, and one must make a stop to meet the exuberant proprietress of Shady Lady Hats who with a few expert adjustments (and side-cracks to boot) will have you be-hatted in style. For snacks, cheeky sips of lovely Mudgee wine or hearty breakfasts, you will be cared for graciously at the Clock Stop Cafe by the defunct train tracks. A coverted train station, the deco is so authentic you might feel like you’re about to be ushered aboard an Agatha Christie mystery.

Or, if it’s Mother Nature you yearn for, take a trip out to Dunns Swamp . Manmade in the 1920’s to provide water for the Kandos Cement Works, it forms part of the beautiful Wollemi National Park and is a picturesque camping, fishing or picnic spot (don’t forget to pop into the Kandos bakery and stock up for the picnic on their delicious treats).

Dinner may warrant a drive to neighbouring village, Rylestone , where a culinary surprise exists in the form of the funky 29 Nine 99 restaurant which knocks visitors socks off every day of the week. Outstanding yum cha, with dumplings to die for on offer served up by couple Na Lan and Reg Buckland. But if it’s simple fare that you seek, step into the Hotel Kandos for classic pub grub at its country best.

Enclosed on one side by an enigmatic escarpment, the finest hour is sunset in Kandos. With a drink in hand on the balcony of the Railway Hotel, tourists and locals watch the sky softly burn to an orange glow that illuminates the cliff face to a fierce blush. Glossy cockatoos shriek from the boughs as the shadows of the gums lengthen to streak across neatly mowed town parkland. Maybe it’s a little rose-tinted, but the world sure looks lovely from here.

 

HOTEL

Fairways Motel
Cnr Ilford Rd & Henbury Ave
Kandos NSW 2848
Telephone:

WINE BAR & CAFE

Clock Stop Cafe
37 Angus Ave
Kandos NSW 2848
Telephone:

By Estelle Pigot

Oooh-oooh-oooh we all felt our temperatures rising, as the thermometer soared to 42 degrees last weekend but fans flocked to central NSW to share their burning love for the King of Rock and Roll. A sea of Elvis’s flooded the streets and a feverish carnival of enduring love for a rock god engulfed this country town.

Damien Mullin was the show-stopping impersonation performance of the festival. I managed to catch him twice at the Parkes Leagues Club (once in a copy of the 1968 Comeback Special black leather jumpsuit, the other where he sweltered in skin-tight polyester). He planted kisses on the squealing sexagenarians in the front row, bestowed sweat-soaked scarves on the giddy fans and belted out tunes that caused rockabilly riots on the dance floor.

The five-day festival is a major boon to local tourism. A local man working at the Coachman Motel in town, said “With this Elvis thing g etting bigger and bigger, Parkes has changed a fair bit in the last 5 years.” With evident pride, he added, “A lot of country towns in NSW are drying up but not us – there’s heaps going for Parkes right now.”

Established 21 years ago and held every year in the second week of January to coincide with Elvis’ birthday, the event is booming. It attracts a bigger and weirder crowd of grey nomads, die-hard fans, boot-scooters, bikies, queer rockabillies and everything in-between, each year. But Bogan Elvis – the prevailing look of choice for attendees – reigns supreme at Parkes, putting a distinctly Aussie spin on the quintessential son of the US of A. He and his companions strut and stumble down the main street, too skinny to fill out his jumpsuit adequately, cigarette in hand, his synthetic black wig slipping over one eye, seeking out chicken devil wings to soak up that bellyful of beer.

The town takes Elvis very seriously with one known resident so ardent a fan of Presley who, with his mother’s permission, changed his name to Elvis by deed poll. Formerly known as Neville, he travelled to Gracelands and returned with 6 suitcases of memorabilia which is displayed during the festival. Other highlights included look-alike and impersonator contests, the unbelievable street parade, wedding vow renewals presided over by the King himself and over 150 other whacky events.

It seemed disrespectful not to visit The Dish while in town, where we copped our dose of nerdy science history while slurping on our ‘Mercury Milkshakes’ and tucking into ‘Eggs Benedish’ served by teenagers sporting beehives and Hawaiian skirts.

If the aliens invaded Parkes during festival week it would be at the empassioned beckoning of the statue of Sir Henry Parkes. Revellers mock his dramatic stance, turning it into an Elvis-style move; bedecking him in oversized gold sunnies and drape a satin cape across his shoulders. Nobody would notice extra-terrestrials as this quirky jamboree takes place  – they would fit right in.

Oh Grenfell ! You were the place that nagged at the heart of Australian poet, Henry Lawson, his birthplace. To read the monument to his birth just outside this centre of this NSW country town, you get the sense that Lawson felt a little guilty about his departure from the town. His poem, Said Grenfell To My Spirit , opens with the town itself berating him for his disloyalty -

Said Grenfell to my spirit, “You’ve been writing very free Of the charms of other places, and you don’t remember me.”

4 hours out of Sydney, this historic gold town has known a few celebrity ex-pats (notably the bushranger, Ben Hall) and surrounded by flowering canola blossoms and rambling Patterson’s Curse, it’s probably no prettier than it is in springtime. But it wasn’t the history, the view or the pub that caught my eye on a recent exploration of the town. It was Grenfell’s lovely typography.

I was struck by the many painted signs, some old some new, and wondered if perhaps Grenfell was also home to a typographic talent, yet uncovered?  Whoever the one or many sign-writers are, their legacy adds a particular flair to this  town of 2200 people.

After gold was discovered in the area by a shepherd in the 1860’s, the town boomed as miners flocked to the area to get their piece of shiny. By the 1870’s it was producing the most gold of any town in NSW.

The Weddin Mountains fringe the village, and in them are caves and hideouts of bushrangers from these boom times.  The locals will tell you, in that traditional country Australia, laconic style, that there’s gold in the caves still – bushranger loot –  stashed away right before they were shot by police or dragged off to the lock-up, a hundred-year-old secret.

Apprently it’s hard to get to, though, on account of the mini-avalanches that have resulted in the entranes being blocked by fallen rocks.

So, there are hills in which to hunt your fortune. But if you prefer a more leisurely exploration, try sign-watching and enjoy Grenfell’s typography treasures.

 

There’s a little place you need to know about.

La Boheme, in Grote St, Adelaide, was once a tobacconist and is now a perfect little salon replete with cabaret shows, gentle live music and a witty cocktail selection to make you cry ooh-la-la.

Cheeky burlesque on school nights, funk tunes spun from decks perched on piano tops on the weekend and local artists hang their work on the damask papered walls. Yes, it’s nothing if it’s not bohemian.

This intimate little, shabby chic distraction is Adelaide’s slice of gay Paris. While the clever staff shake up an American Beauty or an Absolut Hulk ($15), they will banter and flirt you into giddy smiles.

With a wear-worn chesterfield that stretches the length of the room, a rockabilly barman who hands you your receipt complete with a rose for the lady and a French-singing guitarist, there’s nowhere else you would rather sip absinthe in the city of churches.

36 Grote Street
Adelaide SA 5000

Article written by Estelle Pigot