Under a hotter Sun; The Sunset Caravan Park; Settling in; The search begins for a property;

We move in to the Sunset Caravan Park
Neither of us had ever lived in a caravan or for that in a caravan Park. This would be a first and new experience that I did not fully appreciate at that moment as I was feeling like hit by a ton of bricks. I felt like a zombie transported and put down. I arrived tired, dirty, hungry and perhaps subconsciously homesick. Peter looked haggard from a sleepless night, his jaunty, little hat sinking over his forehead while juggling our suitcases from the huge boot of the taxi under advise of the driver who stood his feet apart looking at us like we were people he was not obliged to help with their luggage. Peter paid him and he left with a screech of his white-rimmed tyres.
We shoved our suitcases towards the entrance and a door with a sign that said “Reception”. We knocked and a tiny, white haired lady came out. We asked for a caravan for at least a week to hire. She looked us up and down and said that we could have it for one night and we would see about the next day, which meant in other words:" I have to check you out first. Fair enough. We paid and she showed us to a fairly big caravan. We were all hungry so after stashing our luggage in the caravan we went to look for a grocery store, There was no linen for the beds, no cushions no blankets. The first night was very cold. The days were already hot in November but the nights were still chilly, especially in a caravan. We covered us as well as possible with our clothes. The first morning when we got up early we appreciated the suns already warming rays. We walked along the road to a tiny shack that sold fresh bread and also some groceries. We bought fresh bread coffee and milk. Back at the caravan we had our first breakfast. It was so simple, but it tasted wonderful, sitting on the steps of the caravan in the early morning sun, munching fresh bread and sipping Nescafe what could one want more!!

Settling in;
We made our plans for the day. The first priority was to buy a car as we needed transport. We also needed blankets and cushions. We also had to go and see Tom Cronin a real estate man to whom we had written from Switzerland.
Reg, the owner of the caravan park, was also the hands on man. The tiny, grey haired lady was his mother Ella. Reg said we could ask him anything about good land and ask any questions we might have. He was also managing his small farm. He still had a few horses and he was growing vegetables, like beans and pumpkins. He was sort of taken with us and amazed that we came from Switzerland to settle in the Clarence Valley.

The next morning we walked , it was quite a long way, into the city of Grafton. It was lovely to wander along the avenues planted with the mauve flowered Jacarandas. The pathway was purple, carpeted with the fallen flowers, intricate small bells. It was like a fairyland. I was expecting a golden fairy sitting up on the Jacaranda tree waving her wand of purple bells.

Orchids, feathery ferns and massive stag-horns were growing on the trunks and nestling in the forks of branches.

As I am always interested in plants and gardens, I was looking into the front gardens we passed. There were fantastic climbers, huge yellow bells, called Allamanda.A fairly squat tree, with a broad canopy and ferny leaves was displaying the most brilliant red and gold flower bunches. I asked a person on the road what this tree was called. It is a Poinciana the lady said. Unfortunately, I didn’t have all day to study the gardens of Grafton we had a more pressing agenda.
We asked the real estate man at Moy and Darby what sort of cars real estate men drive. He replied they all drive Fords. Our thoughts were, if they all drive Ford cars, those cars must be good and reliable. So a Ford would do for us.
We went to the next big Garage, called Boland Ford. We were asked into the office. Soon we had bought a new, white Ford Falcon station wagon. We could pick it up in probably a weeks time. We explored the city of Grafton. We liked what we saw. The city sat in a haze of bluish mauve, quite breathtakingly beautiful. The streets were broad and generous, beautiful old buildings, lots of stores and the people were very friendly.
At McKelly's Store we bought the cushions and linen and blankets we needed for our beds. This store sold also ladies, men and children clothes. The store was just absolutely choker block full of merchandise. The clothes were fashionable of very good quality, boutique style, not what I expected.

There was a Woolworth grocery store and also some kind of a small department store. One store was called Gerard's. They sold kitchenware, crystal glasses, china to shoes and clothes for the whole family and they also served lunches and cafe and tea and milkshakes. It was very old fashioned, it looked like out of the fifties. The Restaurant was very basic furnished with Formica tables and chairs. We enjoyed the milkshakes, fish and chips. "Andere Laender andere Sitten."
The most alluring of Grafton was its many wonderful trees and the great sweep of the Clarence called the Big River passing the city. There were also many parks well maintained with flowering trees, shrubs, perennial and annual bedding plants. I saw a a few very nice boutiques, like “Vienna Style” or “Audeens”. It looked like a prosperous country town. It was also said that it was one of the most beautiful country towns, well looked after with its great avenues and the mighty Clarence River.
After settling in and making a kind of a temporary home we called in at Tom Cronin Real Estate. After explaining, that we were the people from Switzerland who had written to him and he arranged for us the caravan accommodation....he said...oh yes...o.k. He didn't really know what to do with us. He had forgotten or never expected us to materialize. He didn't know it was for us he had arranged the accommodation. We had to explain to him that we were looking for a suitable grazing property to buy. So after a few attempts he finally said I pick you up, (we learned again a new term, pick you up..) tomorrow early in the morning.

I had caught a bad bladder infection and I was sitting nearly all night, on and off on a bucket as I couldn’t run out to the amenities block every ten minutes. It was the most awful night. I felt so miserable, lots of pain. Peter and the girls were asleep and didn't hear me rummage around. In the morning I went to ask Ella if she could recommend a doctor. Joan her daughter in law was also there, she and her husband were also involved in the caravan park business. Joan said I could go and see her doctor and she gave me the address.
The same day I went to see this doctor and we talked a little. He said, that I wouldn’t like it here it was much too hot. He didn’t understand my enthusiasm. When I looked into his eyes, something odd struck me, I saw something vague, an emptiness which I couldn’t understand at the moment . He gave me a prescription for antibiotics for my “bladder trouble”. For a few days I felt not very well, actually quite miserable, then the medication helped to clear up the infection. A month later Joan told me this doctor had made suicide. I wondered what brings people to such a low that they can’t live any more. It was very tragic.

The search begins for a property;
Tom Cronin picked us up early in the morning. I was glad that the antibiotics started to work and at least I didn't have to run to the toilet on and off. He arrived in a big Ford and we hopped in. He took us out of Grafton driving west. Driving very, very fast along a strait road with no turns or corners. After one and a half hours drive he slowed down. He drove into a long driveway. The surrounding country side was pretty, fairly flat, Eucalyptus trees scattered about. He said this is the grazing property. We drove slowly towards the homestead so we could have a look at the surroundings. It all looked very quiet, like everything was abandoned and nobody lived there anymore. No voices of happy people, no laundry drying, no pot plants, nothing. The pretty homestead, the gardens and the tennis court were all in need of a good "face lift". I looked around, there was no other house. The homestead stood alone in acres and acres of land. While driving I had not seen other houses, nor a village, not even other cars. There were no cattle grazing, probably already sold.

It was all very still and quite beautiful in its isolation. The land was not green it looked blond with a greenish tinge with a golden sheen over the grasslands. It was spring and it was fairly dry countryside. The rains had not yet come.
The owner came out and Tom Cronin introduced us. The man was Dutch, originally, he lived alone here. His wife lived and worked in Brisbane and the children lived with her. He was very eager to sell and to get out. It was 1974 and the cattle market was once more collapsing. People with big dreams had once more over committed themselves and the only way out was selling the farms.
I didn't inquire about the next town, schools for the children, airport, buses or train stations. I knew we wouldn't buy this property.

The next place Tom Cronin introduced us to another property that was also very isolated. The land looked similar it was also very open and sparsely timbered grazing land. The house and machinery sheds stood on top of a hill. Also here we didn't see any cattle grazing. The grasses were rough and tall and dry looking. The house looked newer, it was a very simple building of rough grey bricks nothing adorned it. We were shown inside and around. This property was not what we were looking for.
Then Tom Cronin drove with us into the bush. This was different. A two storey timbered house stood in a little clearing. Shadows were playing around. The windows winked were they were caught by the odd sun ray. Nobody was at home. A nanny goat was tied to a post with a long rope. It was calling us in a lonesome sound... The place was surrounded by tall trees, shrubs and scrub and when we explored a little further a big, silent billabong. Climbers were running up and down the trees, big and small leaved plants but no flowers. It was very shady, romantic but for me also a bit eerie as I saw a very big goanna climbing up a tree. It was nearly not distinguishable in all the green and dark surroundings.

We walked a little further and suddenly Peter called out a snake. Tom jumped up and cried where. He hadn't even seen it. He nearly stood on it. Tom was very scared. Peter and I laughed, we couldn’t help it, as it was rather comic seeing Tom with his long legs leaping up like a frog. He said he was not used to see snakes and he didn’t “fancy them”! We were quite OK in our "green-ness" about snakes! He was not keen on this adventure. For us it was not the right place, as romantic and intriguing it presented itself. Tom had enough of this dark place in the bush and drove quickly away.

Copyright:T.S.2008