July 21, 2015
Visiting a coal mine museum: F*ck you Bing
We woke up to the sound of a chainsaw nearby, which was a bit worrying because the rail-trail had ended a bit abruptly and we’d camped on something that might have been private property. Fearing that we might have angered a nearby farmer (played by the Texas Chainsaw Massacre guy) I told Dea to stay in the tent whilst I bravely got up to investigate/run away. But as it happened the sound of the chainsaw was coming from someone who was down below us under a bridge, and he very likely didn’t even know we were there, because he was collecting firewood (probably illegally.) But I thought better of confronting him about it. You know, just in case.
After climbing over a fence we managed to escape back onto the road and continue. It was such a foggy morning that it was a bit risky to be cycling in traffic and so when we passed a museum just after the power station we thought we’d stop and take a look and kill a bit of time. The museum had a big sign saying that it was OPEN but it was in such a remote location, a small village named Yallora North, that it seemed strange that it would be open on a weekday morning, especially as it also had a big sign saying that it was CLOSED. Either way, there were some pieces of machinery and information boards outside which we perused before I noticed a sign on the door of the museum saying “If it is cold outside please come in to warm up.” It certainly was cold outside and so I tried turning the door handle and was surprised to see that it was unlocked. I was even more surprised to step inside and be greeted by a kind woman. So far almost every single interesting person I’d met in Australia had been an octogenarian so it was nice to meet someone not in their eighties. She was ninety if she was a day.
The old lady seemed very nice but there was a notice saying that it cost five dollars each to enter the museum and Dea and I looked at one other and decided that we wouldn’t bother. But as we turned to leave the woman gasped “No, no please. Don’t worry about the money, please, come in, we won’t worry about that.” She seemed desperate for the company, which was understandable really - When we signed the guestbook later we noticed that the last visitors had been nine days ago.
Ann was her name and she took us into a room with information boards and old photos related to the coal mine and associated power plant and the surrounding villages that served them. She began to tell us all about it - a museum tour which seemed to be largely intertwined with her own family history. She was such a sweet old lady, offering us coffee to warm us up (it was actually colder inside the museum than out) and telling us Dea’s arrival had coincided with the coldest winter here in thirty years.
We spent some more time looking around the museum, an impressive collection really which Ann had apparently been putting together almost single handed for some time, before taking our leave once the weather had brightened up a bit. After a little longer on the big road we took a turn that we had seen on Bing maps. For some reason the Internet access we’d had in Moe wouldn’t let us open Google maps, so we’d had to use Bing, and we’d found a few options to take smaller roads through the countryside. So we went south off the main road, on a gravel track for a little bit, and looked for a left turn that would take us east, but the left turn never appeared, and instead the road ended. That’s Bing for you. But we allowed it one mistake, and decided to trust it again after backtracking to the main road and next trying a small road to the north. Bing insisted this would connect through to the next town of Glengarry and it was a lovely road with no traffic and lots of horses to be spotted. “Horse, horse, horse” cried my happy companion as we zoomed down a big downhill. It was great fun. Then we came to this:
All the way back up the hill and back to the main road we went, deciding never to trust Bing again. “I think they just copy Google and then make up some extra roads that don’t even exist, just so they look better.” I said to Dea. “Horse, horse” she replied.
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The main road took us in to Glengarry anyway, and from there we were able to get on another rail-trail, a really nice one. After that I could forgive anything, because it was such a lovely afternoon of cycling with my girl and even the sun managed to cast us a little warmth. And there was great drama in the horse spotting game, with me recovering from at one stage being 20-48 behind to a lead of 60-59. This was a lead which lasted for approximately five seconds and I ended the day 50-62 behind again after my last claim for a horse was met with “No Chris, minus five points for you again, that’s a man!!!”
Today's ride: 56 km (35 miles)
Total: 45,099 km (28,006 miles)
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