Under a hotter Sun; We found and bought a property;

The next day he picked us up again to inspect a few more properties.
This property was also heavily timbered and very steep. The house was build of brick and new. Inside it was not finished. It looked all very neat and tidy. Nobody was at home. I felt sorry for this family. The new house was not yet finished and they already had to sell it. One could see that they cherished their home. This property was not viable it was to small to make a living.
We drove further and further, all through bushland. Then suddenly the road became stonier, narrower and steeper.

An old Queenslander came into view. An elderly lady came out to wait for us. The house was quite pretty in its patina. It hadn't see a paintbrush probably for ever. Its white paint was only a shimmer on the grey, silvery wood. Inside it needed a big, big renovation. The floorboards were broken and one could see the dirt floor underneath. The floorboards had also shrunk away from the wall so there was a big gap all around the room. It didn't seem to bother the people living there. That wouldn't matter to us either. We could live with the odd snake, lizard or spider making itself at home in our living room, if the grazing land is good!! Two sisters, getting on in years, living in the same house as their ancestors had.

Proudly they showed us their pump for their water supply for the house. The pump was located outside an old timber shed. We wanted to see the creek where the water came from. We had to walk to the creek. The creek, at the moment was very low, ran deep down between two steep embankments. In the creek was a dead cow. She must have been there for days as she was fairly blown up! We said no to this property. The water supply was not good enough. there was no town water and we would have to rely on that creek or on rain water both not enough reliable sources. "The girls" also put the price up as soon as they heard we were from Switzerland.

The next property Tom wanted to show us was out at Nymboida. It is a pretty place. Rural, with a beautiful, rather wild, fast flowing river with the same name. It would be a nice place to live and still not to far out from Grafton. The property was hilly grassland, interspersed with tall and stately Eucalyptus trees. Some of these huge trees had black, solid looking ants nests attached to their massive branches. The kookaburras use these as nesting place to rear their babies. We had to traverse the river and their was just a makeshift bridge. The last big flood, not that long ago had torn away the bridge. A new one had to be build. Actually, when we came nearer to the house we had to go over a second bridge which was also badly damaged and in real need to be replaced.
This was a bit a worry because without a bridge one isn't able to get out of the place.
The house was alright nearly new. There was nothing to speak of what one could call a garden. Outside was one of these old coppers which were used in earlier days to boil laundry items like big sheets, towels and underwear. Nearby was also a big wood pile. I don't know for what the copper was used. While we were talking with the owners, Peter and I, in the same instant saw a really huge, red belly Blacksnake slithering out from under the woodpile and quickly disappearing under the copper. No one else saw this little manoeuvre. We were so new and green, we had just enough, when we saw this huge snake. All we wanted was get going once more over those rickety bridges and arrive safely on the other side.
While Peter and I were looking at properties. the girls were "adopted" by Ella and Reg.
They had a very good time. Attached to the caravan park was also an animal sanctuary
sheltering Kangaroos, Wallabies and all sorts of birds. The girls were taught how to ride a horse, feed the animals. Reg had all three of them constantly in tow. They even taught him some Swiss words.

Around the park was a beautiful garden with flowering bushes and very tall Banana plants. I was amazed when I learned that the Banana is actually classified as a herb. Lilli saw this big hand of Bananas, beautiful yellow, nestling between the biggest leaves. She couldn’t belief that nobody took it down. When she showed the Banana bunch to Reg he cut it down for her and gave her the whole lot. Full of pride she brought it to us. The Bananas were the kind that are called “ladies finger“. It is a short fat banana but with a very special sweetness not at all like the normal bananas one could by in Switzerland.

Tom showed us one more place in South Grafton. It was a grazing property. It was beautiful, undulating with a view on the River. There was no house on it. It wouldn't be to far to go shopping and also very important not to far for the girls to catch the bus to their school. Peter and I liked the place. Back at the caravan park we talked to Reg about this place. He said he would come with us and have a look at it and tell us what he thinks of it.

The next day he took us out to Southgate and we showed him the property. He said it was very nice to look at, but we wouldn't be able to make a living with this property. He explained about the grasses that grew there. He said, look the soil is not good enough it is not fertile. The grass growing here is not nutritious enough for the cattle. It would be alright if there would be flats with good alluvial soil so you have both. We were a bit disappointed with his judgement but we listened to him and abandoned the thought of buying that property.

Reg said he had heard through the grapevine, that a good property on the lower Clarence comes on to the market for sale. It was the last big property to be sold in one lot on the lower Clarence. It was not yet official. He introduced us to Ray from Ross Alford Real Estate who was selling this property.
The next day, Ray picket us up at the caravan park and drove with us north towards Maclean to see this property. This time we stayed in the coastal area. After about 30 km he left the highway and drove into a small road that was not paved. The sign said Tucabia. There were not many houses. All farm- or grazing land. Some planted with corn or sugarcane. In between grassland with cattle grazing.

The property had fertilelow lying flats bordered by the Coldstream River. Gently undulating grassland and on top at the entrance scrub, bush and trees excellent as shelter for the animals and also high ground in time of floods. Ray himself, a grazier, told us what we had to look out for.
The old weatherboard house stood halfway between the river and the bush.
Peter liked this property straight away. I was not sure, to me everything looked fairly derelict, unkempt, not pretty. My fantasies were not fuelled by this place. It was a little bit like, this can’t be the place we want. We haven’t come all this way to buy something like this! I stood there bewildered, speechless, while Peter beamed and nodded enthusiastically to Ray’s explanations.
The next day Reg came with us to inspect it and gave his verdict. He said it was a very good place and if the prices were right we always could make a decent living. So, this was it then our dream place. After the decision was made to buy this place, it was like a bubble had burst, my woolly head cleared and I decided to stand with both legs firmly planted on the ground.

Under a hotter Sun; We arrive in Grafton NSW;

We arrive in Grafton
We were early at the train station in Sydney to wait for our train that would bring us to Grafton. The clerk at the office had described this train as the best in the world. Patiently we waited and waited. Our departure time 8.30 pm drew nearer and nearer and there was just this old, dusty train waiting. People were rushing, said their goodbyes and busily boarded the waiting train.
Peter and I asked each other is this it? There was no other train in sight so we took the baggage and the children and looked for our seats in a reserved, first class, and no smoking compartment. Our reserved seats were already taken. We showed our tickets and said “ours”! The people that occupied our seats shrugged and didn’t move. There was no guard far and wide so we looked for five free places. We had to take whatever seats were free.

In front of me sat a man a pipe in his mouth. He smoked relentlessly like a chimney. The heavy smoke was like a shroud around my seat. I confronted him and said:” in here no smoking.” He ignored me completely so his smoke output doubled it send me into a restless sleep. A coughing attack and a jolt that announced another stop of the train woke me once more up. The seat in front of me was empty I hoped the smoker had left. There were now more seats available so we made a dash to occupy the empty places so we could sit together. There was no dining car to have something to eat or drink a cup of coffee and nobody came through with a drinks or cafe trolley like it is usual on long train journeys. When we passed New Castle we were amazed to see the whole city illuminated like a Christmas tree. We had a very restless night with people drinking beer, singing on top of their voices and also trashing out between them the odd argument. From that was some respite when suddenly the guard came to check the tickets. He complimented the lot of the revellers out of the first class compartment to which they promptly returned as soon as the guard had turned his back
The train made its way slowly to the North Coast of New South Wales. We travelled the whole night and were due to arrive in Grafton at 9am. At dawn a rosy sky announced a new day and happily we gazed out of the window, looked and talked about the strange landscape that opened up before us.
The train passed Coffs Harbour and we enjoyed looking at the hills thickly planted with Bananas that gave us our first clue that we were getting closer to a warmer climate. It was far passed our scheduled arriving time nearer to midday than morning. The train had also stopped in the middle of nowhere for quite a while and we didn’t know what happened.
Then finally, around midday, three hours late, we arrived at Grafton. I said to Peter just as well nobody did meet us.
Dragging and balancing seven suitcases and bags, we stepped into the unknown that is onto the platform of the train station in South Grafton. We were a bit stunned where we had landed and looked at each other baffled. In a silent way, our eyes met and we nearly turned back to board the train again.
At the same moment the train heaved a big sigh, shuddered and was in motion once more.
So for the time being we welcomed ourselves to Grafton”!
Our arrival was not notable the red carpet was at the cleaners. The reception committee was at lunch and the musicians were out of town!
The few people that had left the train with us had dispersed, met by family or friends they were whisked away in cars.
It was only us who were standing there a bit dazed and dishevelled from the long journey, a lost look on our faces, what have we done. The children oblivious to our momentary qualms sat on the suitcases chatted and giggled and wanted to know where we were going from here. We looked around and didn’t see a town or a village. A sturdy boy was standing near and looked at us and probably figuring out what sort of language we were speaking. I went to him and asked him where is the town, where are the houses?. He said:" The town is over the bridge." Satisfied with his certain knowledge that there really was a town we approached the waiting taxi.
While in Sydney we went to the bank of New South Wales. A young Swiss lady who spoke our language from their public relations office helped us with our accommodation in Grafton.
Previously while still in Switzerland we had written to a real estate office in Grafton to a mister Tom Cronin, so we gave her his address to contact, and mister Cronin rented for us a caravan. We hadn’t thought of this option but thought that’s how things were done here. If you needed a place to stay you hired a caravan. So our journey came to a halt for the moment. The Sunset Caravan Park was waiting for us.

We approached the taxi driver who glanced at us through dazzling sunglasses who reflected the sun rays in multi hued sparkles. He heaved himself up from his relaxed pose and I showed him the address of the caravan park. He said something that we didn’t understand then we said we wanted him to take us to the Sunset Caravan Park. He assessed us with our seven suitcases through his sunglasses still flashing purple, green and pink He struggled out of his seat that seemed to hold him back with compulsion. He opened the cavernous boot that took easily all our suitcases. Peter took the front seat and the girls and I piled in at the back. The plastic covered seat was hot to the touch. The taxi driver was now talking non-stop. Peter didn’t understand him at all and answered with mmh… and aah…and ooh… the taxi driver searching his face his sunglasses now on top of his head still hurling multi coloured lights, didn’t seem to expect more of an answer. We drove at a fast speed through avenues planted with tall Jacaranda trees that flowered in wonderful mauve and purplish blue. The sideways were thickly carpeted with the fallen petals.

I didn’t know then that I had my first sighting of the famous and wonderful Jacaranda trees of Grafton. At the end of this avenue the houses became more sparsely the trees gave way to grassland and a tall sign advertised the Sunset Caravan Park and Sanctuary.