Around NSW With Andrew: Cessnock

Hunter Valley Humdrummery

I've had a long and varied history of ambivalent feelings to the town of Cessnock since I was 7 years old, and I don't expect that attitude to change in the short or long run. It's not that Cessnock and Cessnockians in general have done anything to earn my ennui (or even distaste), and I'm sure they would be unhappy with me for offering any criticisms (justified or not) of their town. Yet since the day when the Cessnock Goannas defeated the Maitland Pumpkin Pickers in the 1972 Hunter Valley rigby league grand final me Cessnock and I really just don't get along that well.


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Now Cessnock is not a pretty town, and I guess it's unfair to blame the local architecture for the lingering antipathy I harbour against the place. Yet when it is compared with near Hunter neighbours such as Singleton, Scone or even 'big brother' Maitland the influence of the coal mining history of Cessnock has given (to my mind) the town a rather sombre, depressed and unwelcoming feel. Small homes with narrow, badly maintained streets give you plenty of encouragement to keep driving if your passing through. The main street (Vincent Street) looks sadly dated and down at heel, and the shopping complexes facing Wollombi Road also have an air of quiet desperation about them.

But these comments need to be tempered with the reflection that Cessnock has had it far tougher over the years than the likes of Singleton (which had farming and the army to help out economically). The Hunter Valley wineries which dot the surrounding areas of Cessnock no doubt provide a second income stream to the town, but Cessnock was shaped for many a year by the demands of men mining coal first. This can be seen up the Branxton Road with the memorial to the Rothbury mine riot of 1929.

This actually provides a half-decent segue for my next issue with Cessnock; the road between there and New England Highway. For years I have diverted off the more developed route that takes you past Maitland and over the Hunter River near Hexham, instead travelling through townships such as Freeman's Waterhole, Mulbring, Kearsley and Abedare to the south of Cessnock, and Nulkaba and Rothbury to the north heading towards Branxton. For I don't know how many times I've travelled this stretch and it would be fair to say it has been a badly maintained, horridly uninteresting and rather unattractive diversion. I do have one exception in that the Kearsley pub looks like a stand out of rural drinking holes, but when you're on the road heading north or south through Cessnock be prepared for a fairly unrewarding experience. And by the way, the same cavalier approach to road maintenance exists on the Cessnock-Bellbird-Wollombi road to the west.

If this all sounds like a rant against one town I have to temper it with a high commendation to one tourist feature of Cessnock. The Potters Hotel and Brewery has a reasonable gastropub feel to its bistro and a delightful Kolsch style beer made on site which raised a few smiles for me on a couple of instances. It's a pleasant dining and drinking experience and I would happily stop there again.

As for the Hunter Valley wineries which dot the landscape around Cessnock I can't comment on them either as a whole or individually because I've never taken the opportunity of spending more than a passing sip or two in their vineyards, bodegas and tasting sheds. The local tourism info centre (north of Nulkaba) has a plethora of material about the Cessnock area and its wines and it's actually a decent resource for the traveller. However it's not an ends to the journey itself.

Finally a word about the fridge magnet art available at Cessnock. As you might assume wine takes a central role in this, the most kitschy of traveller's accoutrement:
I'd rather have picked up one of those stylish drawing/impressionistic caricatures of Cessnock's cityscape but sad to say I don't think such a vision exists. It does the job however, which perhaps can be a fitting coda for cessnock in itself. Travelling through the Hunter Valley? Cessnock: it does the job.
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Around NSW With Andrew: Central Colo

Jewel Of The Southern Putty

When one travels the back roads and by-ways of NSW, there are untold numbers of small villages that dot the landscape offering rest and succour as you travel to the next big town. You usually have to slow down to 80 kmph, there's perhaps a derelict servo or a cafe/pub/general store with dilapidated fixtures, a public phone booth and a few hold out properties. Sometimes, as in Freeman's Waterhole with it's Oak Dairy cafe and service station life still pulses at a goodly beat. Sad to say the last time I drove through Central Colo it was fenced off and as vibrant as a Taliban keg-party.


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Now as the above map shows Central Colo lies east of Upper Colo, south of Colo Heights and north of Colo. You could say that Central Colo is part of a veritable plethora of Colos. Lying beside the Putty Road and near the upper reaches of the Hawkesbury River Central Colo for years was a place I'd drive past as I wended my way between Singleton and Richmond. Sited in a valley at the bottom of a reasonably tortuous and winding stretch of the Putty it was not a place to stop at during my passages. Too close to home for first stop on the way north or last stop on the way south, it and its near neighbour Colo Heights presaged civilisation on the Putty.

The Putty Road has almost legendary status for me, partly because of the amount of times I've driven it, partly because of what has happened on it, but mostly because it is one of the most isolated stretches of arterial road in regional NSW. With switch backs, hill climbs, long flat rough as buggery stretches, national parks, state forests and jungle-covered creeks the Putty challenges all and sundry who drive it. It can be dangerous even when taken in the best of circumstances, and if you have mechanical problems then be prepared for a long wait. Hence the importance of Colo Central which may well have sadly passed. It was at the southern end like the coastal village in "Heart of Darkness". Once you went past Central Colo you were in the unknown (until you hit Bulga).

From memory Central Colo also had a fairly vibrant holiday/caravan park. Yet when I motored past that same location about 8 months ago wire fencing and no entry signs had separated the recreational facilities from public access and I felt like I was seeing a tourist ghost town. It may well have been revived since then; I hope so. Perhaps Colo Heights is now the epicentre of everything 'Colo-esque' on the Putty. Be that as it may, as long as there is a driver willing to take the road less travelled from the Hawkesbury to the Hunter the sights, smells and sounds of Central Colo will metaphysically cry out "This is the Putty: Abandon ye hope all who enter here".
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Around NSW With Andrew: Casino

The Town That Brought Beef & Clowns Together

A few of the major regional cities of NSW have a near-by neighbouring town which in itself is a sizeable town yet in some ways lives under the shadow of the bigger centre. For example Woolgoola, Nambucca Heads and Sawtell are all close enough to Coffs Harbour to see it as the nearest big smoke so to speak, yet in themselves they have most of the facilities, local interest points, history, architectural style and sufficient population to differentiate themselves from Coffs itself. In some ways these towns can be more pleasant, more interesting and more satisfying to the occasional visitor because they haven't fallen into the same traps of the larger country. And in that context I would argue that Casino stands out as a unique town, utterly different to its 30 odd kilometre nearby town of Lismore in ways that make it a far more enjoyable place to see.


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Entering Casino from the south or from the west is in itself an intriguing part of the trip. The Bruxner Highway which brings you down from Tentefield and the New England area is a windy, deeply forested and near its end very hilly road which is very tiring for the unsuspecting driver. Driving through villages like Tabulam and Drake you do sense you're in a part of NSW few folk but the local inhabitants venture through. Coming up from Grafton on the Summerland Way is different yet again. There are few landmarks and far less kilometres to travel, and you can keep a reasoanbly rapid rate of knots along the bush and farming surrounded road. I've done the Summerland in daytime and at night, at the beginning of a journey and near the end and I've not had a bad time of it. The Bruxner on the other hand is incredibly wearying so care and some strong coffee are highly recommended.

Now as to Casino itself it is of a size large enough to merit the usual fast food franchises and services. The main commercial area on Walker Street is dotted with substantial rural buildings built I would guess in the first half of the 20th Century thanks to agricultural and governmental income. Like many towns that have at some point been on stock routes there are wide thoroughfares in Casino's centre and 45% rear angle parking (though thankfully the guttering is not so high as to bugger a rear bumper bar). The Richmond River flows with marginal vigour through Casino so you don't feel as if you are in a parched part of the bush. All up it looks and feels moderately prosperous and populous without the inane vulgarities or b-s you may find in a Lismore or Byron Bay, nor does it have the Deliverance-esque qualities of much smaller Northern Rivers towns such as the aforementioned Drake or Tabulam.

If you are thinking I have a fairly good opinion of Casino well you've read right. However it's not just down to urban design and food facilities. It also has to do with one specific moment in time which will forever imprint this town's presence on my mind. In May 2004 I was on a round trip between home and Lismore for work, during which I had on my return occasion to stop in Casino for some important tasks (i.e. send some mail and pick up a fridge magnet). Now as the Casino devotees and members of the bovine agricultural sector would know May is when Casino holds its mighty Beef Week, extolling all the related glories of stacking up steak, swallowing swathes of sirloin and helping your hunger with a Hereford. Imagine my delight as I drove into town seeing all the bunting and signage indicating I was in time for Beef Week (well, about an hour's worth of it anyway).

Things only got better, for as I sorted out some postal duties I was greeted by a sight that still beggars belief. two of Casino most pulchritudinous middle aged lady-folk were dressed as clowns and riding around in the back of a Mini Moke, calling via a loud megaphone for everyone to 'roll up, roll up and get geared up for Beef Week". It's just that kind of regional pride, surreal dress sense and communcal friendship which I love to see in a local town when travelling through NSW's regions. Hats off Casino town-fathers and town-mothers! Viva Beef Week! Viva Clowns in Mini Mokes!

To top off my sojourn in Casino I grabbed myself a fairly solid performer in the fridge magnet stakes:
As fridge magnets go this is reasonably conservative having a semi-aerial shot of casino's low level housing placed in the context of its Richmond River location. However what separates this magnet from the mundane is the Beef Week logo. Some magnets may jazz up their graphical design with a 21st Century flashiness. No, this ain't the way of Casino. In solid browns a simple yet eloquent visual message is sent to the fridge magnet's viewer; Casino is the Beef Capital...no arguments will be brooked.

In summary I like Casino for several reasons. It may not be a town I have spent that long in, and like all of my entries this isn't a serious exposition but a highly subjective view on the town. yet if I was asked by anyone where to go if you were in the Northern Rivers I'd readily point out Casino as a destination well worth a poke around.
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Around NSW With Andrew: Captain's Flat - Tallaganda

The Great Army Exercise of 85

The majority of the locations I write about on this blog are positioned either on the way to somewhere else, on the way back from somewhere else, a destination in themselves or a stopping point on one of the major arterial highways of regional NSW. Then there are the places you only go to because you have to. They are remote, distant not just in kilometres but also in time and attitude to the rest of the state, and ultimately the visit there is short and not repeated. Tingha is one such location as is Tabulam. One of the screaming examples over the last 40 years or sop of my travelling in NSW has been Captain's Flat.


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Now I have to admit my time in Captain's Flat has been exceedingly limited and was 24 years ago. hence my observations are out of date, ill-informed and highly personal. Then again as that is the modus vivendi for virtually everything written by me and other bloggers I think I can escape with a mild rebuke from the friends of Captain's Flat. Positioned as it is, about 45 minuntes south east of Canberra there are not many other townships in NSW that are so close to a huge city and yet utterly isolated. I recall with great clarity being driven in the back of an Army truck past the tennis courts of Captain Flat, watching children with clay-dust feet stare at us as if we some gods from a New Guinian cargo cult. I honestly felt like we were entering Australia's own Deliverance country.

The actual area that I spent most of my time in during those three weeks of January 1985 wasn't actually Captian's Flat but the Tallaganda State Forest. Serving with one of the Army Reserve's finest university regiments I learned the ins and outs of stand to, stand down, M79 grenade launchers, helo insertion and Taj Mahootchie construction. If that sounds unintelligable now then you can imagine my confusion all those years ago. To be brutally honest the scrub near Captain's Flat was the same as the scrub at Singleton and as the scrub at Hillgrove. Geography and topography may have been different but the dirty, dusty, tiring duties of a weekend warrior were as numbingly tedious in the Tallaganda as they would have been anywhere else in NSW.

During those weeks in the Captain's Flat/Tallaganda region I wasn't able to access some of the services or features that nowadays I seek out whilst on the road on NSW's back block roads. There were no fridge magnets on sale either in camp or in town, and as for meals they were served up by greasy civilian cooks in the mess tent or taken as ration packs out on exercise (luncheon meat type 2 anyone?). Hence the paucity of great anecdotal information or advice I can give you about these essentials dear reader.

Captain's Flat's delights were not striking to the casual passer-by as I was then and as I have not been back since I can't comment on the village's current wonders. I do know that the trip to and from Queanbeyan is a relatively easy one if probably bumpy when taken in the back of a military truck. It's probable I'll never go there again, which could be called a shame if I wanted to do justice to writing about the township. And yet like plenty of other places in NSW just having the satisfaction of being able to say "been there, done that" is enough for now.
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