kith and kin

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Lithgow

For almost 100 years,. Judi’s ‘long lost’ relatives have lived in the Blue Mountains about 120 kilometers north of Goulburn.
Visiting them has been a major goal of our expedition.
The road from Goulburn, northward is a ‘joy to drive’, so Peter insisted he must take us to Lithgow.
Once more we go up across wild grassy moors, the road twisting and rolling over ridge and dale, becoming narrower and having the look of a track that has only recently had its first coat of asphalt. - Ah, right, it has.
Dark forested massifs of the Blue Mountains begin to show, off to the east. The wild road steepens and zigzags down through deep forest, dropping 300 meters to the Abercrombie River. Then immediately winds back up the other side. We see big ant-hills, some, a couple of meters tall, made of red clay. “They used to dig them up and crush them to make the very best tennis courts.”
As the road meanders on and climbs more than it drops. The landscape alternates between high pasture and eucalypt bush interspersed now with large plantations of introduced pine. “Canadian weeds” the locals call them.
Wild emus with young stride about a hillside while 4 wedge-tailed eagles circle high overhead. When you see an emu’s legs and talons you realize a tussle between a protective mother and a ‘weggie’ would be lethal for the latter even though they are the biggest eagles in the world - up to 3 meter wingspan!

It’s a partly cloudy day and the varying light picks out the subtle ochres, rusty yellows, merlots, olive greens, and paler reflecting white/greens of the new leaves and flowers bursting out on the eucalypt crowns. It is the same light we have seen in old paintings from the times of the explorers. For us so far, these are the colors of Australia.
We pass a sign to Snake Gully Road, but the horror is neutralized a few kilometers on by Wren’s Nest Lane!
We join a more main road at Black Springs (altitude 1210 meters). It is a bit depressed in this village because modern times and blacktop roads have carried off the local trade. Gas station and general store are boarded up with ‘For Sale’ signs. Some say this is the chilliest place in Oz in winter.
Next town is Oberon. Another wide main street lined with busy little shops and cafes. The usual mix of styles delights us again but the eye is caught by a ‘classic’
Art Deco building, from the thirties.
We are now truly in the Blue Mountains. The road is busy with cars, utes, and logging trucks. It winds tightly round steep mountainsides and along ridges, but in the distance we see vistas of deep valleys and canyon-like cliffs. And the air has a faint blue mist out to the far horizon.
Finally we arrive in Lithgow, an industrial town nestled in a valley among dark forested hills. Two more turns and some redirection brings us to the door of Cousin Betty.


“I can see the light and dark and I know you’re there “says this tiny, jolly lady as Judi hugs her. Betty Turk is 82, a war widow, and nearly blind. In many ways this is the focal moment of our 14000+ mile journey. It is hard not to shed a tear of joy as we sit with her in her neat self contained bungalow in a protected residence for the elderly

She is daughter of Forbes (the ‘e’ is voiced); elder sister of Judi’s Mum. Forbes left Scotland for Australia in the early nineteen-twenties,
romantically following a feckless lover. Judi’s mum was only a babe and never met her elder sister for over sixty years. They had a reunion in Scotland twenty five years ago when Forbes was in her 80’s. Apart from a visit by the late Aunty Jen, 30 years ago no other Scots-descended relatives have come to Lithgow till now.
She shows us how her place is set up for her to manage and makes coffee for us. Then she and Judi exchange news of all the Scottish relatives, and we reminisce about, Bothwell, Hamilton and Motherwell and Betty fills in anecdotes from her life and from memories of her mother.

As the afternoon passes Betty’s daughter Jenny, arrives to take us up to her country home. We speed up a highway then turn onto country roads.
Jenny’s home is an airy, open-plan, single-story on a six acre lot. A few more similar spreads make up a small community, surrounded by big livestock stations, sharing waterholes, roads, chores and idyllic views of expansive sheep and cattle pastures on forested hills. As we help Betty out of the car a kookaburra wirrrrs up his soft call and breaks out to crazy laughter right over our heads. “Welcome to Meadow Flat.” We meet Jenny’s daughter Julia and her kids, then Eric, Jenny’s husband helps us put the bags in our room.

As we sit out on the lawn, cars start to arrive. A gathering of the clan is happening. A “Barbie” for Judi – the cousin from away!
We meet eighteen, second, third, and fourth cousins. And apart from the seven or so slippery-as-eels youngsters we caught all the names, as conversation and conviviality swirled. The Canadian climate (and our tolerance of it) was a common ice breaker. But we are getting sharp with strine repartee too. ”Too easy”
Aussie fun and laughter, steak and onions, sausages and patties with many salads washed down with beer or wine helped the sun to set, gentle behind the gum trees and the parrots, magpies and wattle-birds finally quieted down.
We gathered inside for desserts of cheesecake and trifle and the fun and laughter rolled on. Kids rushed around on trikes and peddle cars. Photos were taken. Then it was time for bed for young and old..
The next morning easy conversation over cups of coffee at the table with Jenny and Eric started the day. We walked with them and their dog over hill and dale before the heat came up, we stay on the road, because it’s snake season. Sal the dog had lost her brother a few weeks ago to a snake bite. She was bitten too and the anti venom is a powerful substance for the dogs. Not the same dog at all they said.
We spent the afternoon touring around the neighbourhood seeing the mountainous countryside, along ridges and down in glens on tiny roads. The dams were filled with water from all the rain and everything was green and flowers everywhere along the ditches. Coal mining and power stations keep Australia in electricity. The coal comes right out of the hills and into the power station here. We visited Portland and Bathurst, studied the architecture, walked in the parks and stopped for ice crème. Passionfruit flavour for me!
Its time for drinks outside then supper and more great conversations until it was time to sleep.
The next morning Blad and I visit with Betty again. She had complied a fabulous family history when she could still see and write easily. She has published some detailed poetry about the life as a youth and the times of forest fires. Her granddaughter, Michelle is compiling a family tree and was happy to hear of all these works.
We head back in the misty rain to Meadow Flats, via Betty’s old homestead, now overgrown We cross the Diamond Creek Marsh 4 times and on the hillside I spot 5 kangaroos enjoying all the new growth that the rains have brought. Their heads remind us of our deer, and then they bounce off. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Heather, Jenny’s sister, and Dave meet us with Betty at the local Pub, The Taranna, for a farewell supper.. Eric and I had their famous burger. Great beef here in Australia, others have fish and chips. Delicious, and of course some of the local ale.
We all vowed to meet again. Jenny said she didn’t like to fly but she thought she would like to see Scotland. So we all vowed to meet there before too many years go by..
Next morning Eric and Jenny drop us at the train station,. We all admit we didn’t know what to expect but we were so happy to have gotten to know each other.

Sydney

The rains are falling along the whole coast as we head east to Sydney via train. A 3 hour journey cost 7 dollars each on a fabulous, smooth, quiet ride into the heart of Sydney. Rain pours down as we find our accommodation at a YHA
Youth hostels are not just for youth any more. We have a great room, en suite and in the heart of town. Blad has had a lingering cold or flu for days and is not feeling well. So we take advantage of the broadband in the room and write and rest. We are in Chinatown and the front desk girl recommends a take out close by. Hot chicken noodle soup and beef rolls, delicious and cheap. That gives us strength to walk down to Darling Harbour, the rain has stopped for now. As is our way we have come down from the hills to the sea and the boat world. Lots of multi-hulls here. And ferry rides around the harbour are planned for tomorrow. We have a happy hour drink overlooking the harbour and walk back down George Street to our Hostel.
It pours all night, and in the morning Blad is worse. I leave him to rest as I go and explore. There is a free tourist bus - or for anyone really on a downtown circuit between rush hours. It drops me at Circular Quay, I visit an aboriginal art gallery and then just around the corner suddenly, there’s the famous Sydney Opera house. It seems to fly out into the harbour. I take shelter under a Rose Apple tree as the next downpour come on. As you can imagine the combination of rose and apple scents the air, joggers pass by despite the rain and the birds still call out. A beautiful butterfly comes to join me under the shelter of the tree, then the mosquitoes. Time to move on. Rain now on and off , and I slowly walk back via the Strand, “the most beautiful shopping plaza in the world,” says Pierre Cardin. Chandeliers, a stained glass arched ceiling and subtle Christmas decorations fill the vast space. Time to refuel, a sandwich and a cuppa,
Back to Blad before the next deluge. I buy him a raincoat. The streets that night turn to rivers. This is turning into a very unusual Spring - says everyone. We get the sky shuttle to Sydney airport and fly north to Queensland and the ‘SUNSHINE COAST” We hope.

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Photos

Family
Heather and Jenny
Judi Betty and Blad

Circular quay,sydney
Didje band

jacantha
trees in flower everywhere

sculpture
curtain call

Opera house
helicopters flying over