First of all, before I start today, I want you all to count slowly to 60. That’s a minutes silence, in memory of all those brave men and women that gave their lives, for our freedom. Lest we forget.

I was keen today to find all that Tamworth had to offer. We started off with the ‘Walk A Country Mile’ country music display at the information center. This museum, of sorts, houses an impressive number of displays relating to Australian country music in general and the actual Tamworth Country Music Festival specifically. I knew full well what to expect before we even got there, so it was amusing when the kindly old lady at the front counter felt it necessary to warn us before taking our entrance fee, that it was a country music display. Naturally, hence our presence.

Inside, there were a few of the coveted golden guitar statuettes on display, and a series of vignettes on the artists whom had earned them. There were also other items on display, as well as videos playing throughout, that told the story of Australian country music through the years.

Walk A Country Mile.

Our next stop was the hands of fame corner stone, where more than 200 country artists are immortalized with their hand prints embedded in concrete. A little brass plaque is affixed to each concrete cast acknowledging the artist. We wandered around the stones, pointing out all of the artists who are so well known to us through their music.

But the concrete’s already set?

I then left Bec and the dogs in the park, intending to take the short walk to the nearby Country Hall of Fame, another music inspired museum. Unfortunately for me, after walking all the way there, I was faced with a padlocked door. I am hoping it is only closed because it is ANZAC Day today and will be open tomorrow. There sure isn’t much else that is open either, and the main street is a much different sight than what it was yesterday. I walked dejectedly back to where I’d left everyone else, and we climbed aboard ‘The Beast’ for the next port of call on our days itinerary, at the Tamworth Regional Botanic Gardens.

My first stop once inside the gardens was the toilet. Certainly not an uncommon proposition in itself, as one must take the opportunity whence it is presented. What was unusual was that as I was mid-stream, there was an exclamation from the bloke who had just finished up as I entered and was now trying in vain to get out of the bathroom door. As it turned out, the door had swung shut behind us, and was now locked shut. No amount of rattling, pulling or banging could get the door unlocked. We were locked in good and proper, with no staff on duty in the nearby office, due to the public holiday. It could be days before we were rescued. From within the confines of our diminutive chamber we could hear a crowd gathering on the opposite side of the door, all trying their best to unlatch the door from the outside, but having no more success than what we were having from the inside. Naturally, I remained resilient throughout the ordeal, but I didn’t cherish the prospect of spending the night imprisoned in a cold, dirty public convenience. There had to be another option, we just had to put our minds to it. And that’s when we saw it. A small window set high in the wall above the sink would be just large enough for us to scramble through to gain our freedom, just so long as we could get up to it. I looked across and noticed the beads of sweat beading up upon the other guys forehead and realized that he was probably beginning to succumb to the effects of claustrophobia and shock. I put on a brave face to reassure him. He was an older guy, and it was obvious that he wasn’t so limber as myself so I gallantly gave him a leg up, to get him up and through the window, where he was greeted by cheers and applause from the concerned hoards below. A last look around the dilapidated bathroom in which I had been worried that I may draw my final breathes, I scaled the wall and squeezed myself through the tiny window, also to the welcome cheers of the amassed throng. After a harrowing 4 or 5 minutes, we were free from our imprisonment. The image of me emerging from our captivity unscathed will be an everlasting memory of the torment we suffered.

Free at last!

None the worse for wear for my experience, and reunited with Bec, we strolled about the gardens. They are only small, but very pretty and would have made a lovely spot for a picnic.

From the gardens, we made our way up a nearby hill, to a lookout, nearly getting cleaned up on the road by a rubbish truck of all things. As we rounded the last corner on the way up to the look out, he was careening round the bend from the other direction, causing us to swerve dangerously close to the sheer, cliff edge of the road to avoid a collision.

At the lookout itself, we were able to get a panoramic view of Tamworth spread out below us. From here, you get a great appreciation of the size of Tamworth and if you look closely, you can just make out the big golden guitar in the distance.

Oxley lookout, over looking the Heartland.

Before we finished at the lookout, we got the dogs out for a bit of a walk, only for Alvin to stand on a nasty looking piece of Cactus, impaling his foot on inch long thistles. Taking his cues from me, he remained resilient throughout his ordeal, as Bec gently extracted the thorns. He’s a tough dog though, and apart from a bit of a lick at it to clean it up, he didn’t let it worry him.

That was the end of our tourist itinerary for the day, with just a trip to the grocery store for more dinner supplies. The relatively small size of the fridge in the caravan means that we are required to do our food shopping almost every day.

It was only about 3:30PM when we returned to the van, and considering we have indulged in cheese and crackers for afternoon tea the past 2 days we’ve deduced that the  implications of doing so each day would not be conducive to maintaining our good health. Thus today, rather than have cheese and crackers for afternoon tea, we sat down to a late lunch of…

…cheese and crackers, to which we added a bunch of grapes to increase the perceived healthiness of the dish.

In a repeat of yesterday afternoon, we relaxed outside under the shade of the awning, until the sun went down and the chill set in. Even though the days have been reaching a balmy 25 or 26, the evenings have been freezing, approaching 0^oC overnight.

Not that you would know it within the thin walls of the van, as Bec cranks the thermostat on the heater up to ‘roast’. She then lays in bed complaining about the cold, while I sit at the table in short sleeves, stewing in my own juices. Can’t wait until we get further north and before you know it, she will be complaining about the heat.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.