Southern Cross: Hunter Valley

As night turns into day, through the morning stillness, I awaken to the rumble of the distant train. Time to get up. Leah has Roxie on a leash and is already going out the front door for their walk. Kathy says, "one more minute..." ala Marcus's plea prior to doing what he knows comes next, and he doesn't want to do.

We are off to our overnight trip to Hunter Valley, on a wine country tour. The first step is out the door. The next and following steps are to the Newtown train station and our ride to Circular Quay. There we will pick up our two hour bus ride to Hunter Valley. Our tour ticket has Hunter Gardens as our first stop. Drop off at 11 AM and pick up at 4:30 PM. Rain and drizzle, rain and drizzle all day long. "The gardens are past their bloom. You should have been here in October and November. The roses were all out... It was really pouring rain just a minute ago..." so said the ticket taker at the entrance. There is nobody else around.  After a brief tour of the garden center sales area, a slack in the rain fall, we head out to see whatever there is to see. This is a time for a positive attitude.

On over 65 acres is one garden after another, tied together by trails and cupola rest areas, waterfalls, bridges: formal, rose, Japanese, and many other carefully manicured complete gardens beautifully leading to the next and the next. 

Storybook garden has life sized figures, clustered together, along with its book chapter reading. The statuary and theme setting, depicting stories from English moralistic and politically motivated nursery tales. This journey through the Storybook garden reminded me of a time during English monarchy rule, between the time of the Magna Carter and late 19th Century, when speech was not free, one could not directly criticize the crown, noblemen, church bishops and church hierarchy. Only through allegory, nursery tales, did one dare to challenge authority. "Humpty dumpty sat on a wall... Mary Mary quite contrary... Wee Little Winkee in his night gown..." Nursery rhymes were one vehicle of political expression. And so we told these nursery rhymes to our children, one generation after another, loosing much meaning during the reiteration.

Our tale of Hunter Gardens, down pour and all, blossom beauty long past, low clouds hiding this Valley's gentle rolling nature, is worth seeing, is worth traveling by bus from Sydney to see. These Gardens opened my mind to the many possibilities of  shaping the soil and shrubs and flowers into an expression of one's self, one's tradition, one's sense of perspective.

The wine country tour the next day was pleasant, sunny and mild. We continue to learn at most every stop, about grapes, and soil, and wine making. Interspersed were stories of families and heritage, hardship and triumph. We saw yet another dimension of Australian life.

The bus trip back to Sydney was again, uneventful, yet, informative about the topography of Australia's Eastern coast, the haphazardly derived and jumble of streets that lead into Australia's largest city, and the everyday business of people in this part of the world.

Leah awaits our return.