Saturday mornings are apparently family mornings at Fionas so we head there to share in the chaos and to meet her two grandchildren. Issys always been a sucker for babies, so I suspect Fionas daughter Sarah may struggle to reclaim seven week old from my beloveds firm grasp. Two year old Jerry has recently discovered the not so subtle art of Im not quite sure why his hands arent stinging; those belonging to anyone else in his general vicinity certainly are.
Today we head from Swan Hill to Mildura, and hope to take in some silo art along the way to break up the journey. We read that silo art started in Western Australias wheat belt in 2015, and there are now 48 sites across the country, with many more in the pipeline. One of its main aims is to attract tourists to many of which are struggling.
First stop is the not so thriving metropolis of Culgoa. We assume that the art on the silos here has a bit overly faded over time, or so it seemed until we discover that were in the wrong town. Next stop is the even less
thriving metropolis of Nullawil, population about three and a half. Were not sure whether this includes the two policemen whove planted their cars not so subtly across the highway to passers by. The turn off to the car park we need to get into to view the silos is just in front of the paddy wagons, but Issy says that if we turn into it theyll think were trying to do a runner. The constable tells us that if wed done a they would indeed after us with lights and sirens blazing. That might at least have given the locals something to talk about. It would have been a short chase; we end up parking about twenty metres from where we got breath tested. Its lunchtime, which leaves us wondering how many drunk motorists theyre hoping to catch in a town at this time of the day. I spose were on a highway, so I guess they might potentially intercept a few tipsy out of towners.
The main feature of the stunning art work is a sheep dog. We marvel at the skills of the artist(s). I cant draw stick figures on a small
flat piece of paper, yet these guys have managed to produce a masterpiece on the curved side of what is the equivalent of about a six storey building.
Next stop is Sea Lake. We were here last night and managed not to notice the silos. This was some achievement given that theyre by far the tallest buildings in town. The art work is again stunning, this time featuring a young girl on a swing. Theres a spectacular sunset behind her reflected in what is presumably intended to represent Lake Tyrrell.
Were hungry and in need of a sandwich. What seems to be the only cafe in town is about to close, but the elderly owner kindly agrees to make us some rolls. He says we should thank our lucky stars, as weve stumbled across what is probably the only open cafe within about a hundred kilometre radius. Hes half way through production before realising that he should perhaps have asked us what we wanted as filling. He tells us that hes done a course on sandwich making, and proceeds to give us chapter and verse on the order in which the various ingredients need to be applied. I
had no idea there was so much to know about making something that Id previously thought even I could concoct without too much trouble. By the time hes finished talking we feel like weve done the course too. He tells us that his was the only one of three cafes in town that managed to survive the COVID lockdown, and no surprise given the eye watering price were charged for a few humble salad items shoved into a couple of lumps of bread. I think we might be helping him recoup the cost of his course.
Next stop is Lascelles. This looks positively like a ghost town, and there seem to be more abandoned houses here than not. It feels slightly creepy. As we pull up next to the silos we can hear some very discontented sounding dogs barking angrily in the distance.
