Still South of the Clarence

We drove up the old highway beside the Mighty Clarence River to Maclean, detouring through the narrow streets of Ulmarra. I was distraught to discover the Southgate ferry is now permanently closed, so there will be no more watching it from the lovely shaded lawn behind the Ulmarra Hotel.

We were early enough to catch a couple of Maclean oppies before they closed, including my favourite, REServe.  We told the woman there we had come from Grafton. "Did you find a park?" she said.   The Salvos was still open but we weren't quick enough for the Anglican up the road.  Still no skateboards or street directories for the girls' bingo cards.

The Uniting was also closed but we recreated the photo taken there years ago of Jo (Buchanan) next to the Buchanan tartan power pole, right outside their front door.  Maclean, "The Scottish Town in Australia", is famous for these, and the tourist info centre can give you a map of all the locations.  Ancient Leslie is still hard to find, trust me.

Off to our cabin at Maclean Riverside Caravan Park we went.  The manager is a bit of a comedian, but the cabin was fine, and we had the very front one, complete with riverside view, as much as you can see over the flood levees anyway. 

Jan decided her dinner cooking contribution would be takeaway pizza, so she ordered and I drove her down the main street, where parking can be difficult, but we lucked the last spot. It was peak hour at the pizzeria and they had forgotten the garlic bread, so it was just as well I brought my crossword with me.

Not long after we ate, we heard the rumble of thunder, and the BOM map showed a big storm rolling north to the east of us.  We thought we had missed it until we heard hail falling and I dashed outside (in my nightie) to move my car under cover at the garage next door. Not quick enough! About eight cars appeared from nowhere in seconds.  Fortunately, the hail was small, and I wasn't too wet.

Speaking of wet, our clothing theme for next day was The Colour of Water.  Jo had decided to open a couple of windows for air circulation in the night and a second storm while we were asleep meant wet floor and curtains.  We cleaned up as best we could.  She had decided to enhance her outfit with a raincoat (just because it was there), so posed in it for a photo before we headed out for the day. Then she took it off because it was too hot.

We quickly completed the
Maclean op shop collection via Vinnies, Uniting and Anglican op shops, after first driving across the highway to Maclean's more downmarket twin town, Townsend.  I had picked up a map of Maclean's oppies the day before (you can do this in Ballina and Toowoomba too), and discovered there was one in Townsend. I had visited the town more times than you can count on our annual 4wd club strips to Brooms Head and had no idea the shop was there.

It is a nice oppy, with a serve-yourself tea and coffee bar. I have never seen this before in an op shop.  Strange noises were coming from the hall next door where the local private school was starting their weekly do-it-yourself church service, but it just added to the atmosphere. I found a mug here which I later regretted not buying as a contender in the 'best mug' comp.  How would you wash it? The dishwasher would be a definite no-no.

From Maclean/Townsend, it is a short drive east to beautiful Yamba, which has three op shops.  The Helicopter Shop in town is close to one of the town's multiple cafes, so we patronised both, and Jo bought a pair of shoes at a proper shoe shop.  After that, we drove up onto the headland to check out the two lighthouses, the main swimming beach and the mouth of the Clarence.

The Uniting Church shop on the Angourie road is cheap and cheerful, and it was here that we found a volunteer to take our Colour of Water photo.

Purple Rain

We had visited Ballina in the past, but had never managed to visit all the op shops there, because there are so many.  I had made a list of opening and closing times so we could optimise access, so as soon as we hit town, we headed for our second visit to the Anglican one, because it closed at 3.30.  We were already too late for the ADRA one.  

Time was running out to complete the next day's outfits, the theme of which was The Colour Purple, for reasons that will later become obvious.  Between the Anglican and Vinnies, which closed at 4, we just got there.  Jan was looking for a flat pancake pan for her brother Gary who lost most of his belongings in a fire earlier in the year. At Vinnies, we found one. 

The Helicopter shop over the road had already closed, and we were tired, so it was off to cabin number two, at Shaws Bay Caravan Park, well away from the flight path.  We were in a nest of cabins with our own private barbecue area, and in front of the mini-golf course, complete with watercourses, fountains and our very own crocodile. We were surrounded by palm trees, so there was a nice private feel to our cabin, which had the correct bed arrangement.

It was my turn to cook dinner, so we sat on the deck watching out for flying golf balls, while eating a curry enhanced by free zucchini, and then crashed. We don't have the stamina for post-dinner games that we used to have.

However, Jo and I did have the energy for a morning walk.  We did the nice new walking track out along the breakwater as the sun rose, and then a loop around Shaws Bay. I even managed to find a geocache in the park where the old cemetery used to be.

We could have waited for the local shops to open before heading off to Grafton, but decided to go early, which was just as well. I had taken the girls there on a previous trip, where I forgot that the jacarandas bloom later there than in Brisbane, and we had only seen one tree in flower that year. I was determined that this time they would see Grafton is her full October glory. 

I took the girls into the city centre via the historic old bridge, where the trains cross the river below the cars, then aimed for the Anglican oppy right next to the cathedral.  I drove into the cathedral grounds just as a car was leaving and took that spot. We found out later that it was the last parking spot in Grafton.  I had thought we would be in town the day before Jacaranda Day, which is the biggie during the annual Jacaranda festival, but nope, we were right in the thick of it.

In the Anglican, we also discovered that all the shops in Grafton close at noon on Jacaranda Day, so the focus is then fully on the market right down the middle of Princes Street (the main street, closed for the day) and in Market Square nearby.  I knew that the shops had a window decorating competition, but in the Anglican op shop, the purple decor continued inside. None of the purple clothing was available for sale until after Jacaranda Day.  

The shop assistant was dressed in black from top to toe, in protest, she said. The male staff member was playing a guitar, going through his full range of "purple songs" which seemed to consist of four: Purple Rain, Deep Purple, the Flying Purple People Eater, and Lavender's Blue. I think he was looking forward to midday.

We paid for out purchases and shoved our way through the crowd to the Hospital Auxilliary Op Shop, who had done themselves proud with their window display.  In there I found a new pair of black jeans for Michael to replace his beloved old pair which are falling apart. They cost me $4. Jo found an identical pair of pants to the ones she was wearing as part of her Colour Purple Outfit.

We inspected Market Square, nobly ignoring most of the stalls, and making a beeline for the giant kewpie doll that is a feature of the festival, as this was the perfect place to pose in our purple outfits.

Next stop, purple ice cream which you just have to eat on Jacaranda Day.  I am pleased to report that it is berry flavoured and still delicious. I had my last one with Mum about 45 years ago.  For those who don't know, Mum was an old Grafton girl.

While we were scoffing our ice creams, we spotted the Lifeline across the road, which still hadn't closed its doors.  So that made three shops ticked off the Grafton list. The woman in the Anglican had already told us that the Salvos was closed for renovations, so that saved us from a wasted trek. We had coffee and munchies instead.  

While we were sitting there, we watched various teenagers smearing each other with shaving cream - another Jacaranda Day tradition. There was also a very happy group of young blokes whose matching jackets were a mixture of hi-viz yellow and purple aboriginal dot painting designs. We found out later they were on day release from the nearby Clarence Correctional Centre, to help with erecting and puling down stalls etc.

Back at the cathedral to retrieve the car, we went inside so I could show the gals the beautiful angel-shaped font where I was christened a long time ago.  The angel did not seem impressed by my presence. We also spotted a beautiful white jacaranda tree in the grounds. Not too many of those around.

I then took the girls for a drive around town to show them one jacaranda-lined street after another, plus the fig-tree avenue which is less widely known about.

Then it was off to South Grafton in the forlorn hope that the three ops shops there might still be open.  South Grafton was completely dead, but what else is new? 

I had meant to then drive straight back out of town but was tricked by a certain roundabout and we ended up on the new bridge headed towards town.. This is a McBurney tradition, because Michael and I have done that in the past as well.  It is definitely less picturesque than the old bridge, but is gives you a good look at it as you head for the Villiers Street roundabout to go back for a second viewing en route to the main drag back north to Maclean.

  

Bingo, Bogangar and Byron

We had all done well the previous day with our bingo cards, finding antique silverware, party invitations, Christmas tableware, a glass etched with grapes, an Andre Rieu DVD, a knitting pattern, a sequinned cushion etc, but some things were proving tricky: a skateboard, a street directory, a book of poetry and a How to Host a Murder game. The other two had each easily found an umbrella, but so far, I was out of luck. 

The next hopefully fertile field was the Tweed Coast Community op shop in the back streets of Bogangar.  I didn't find any umbrellas but did pick up a paua shell pendant to wear with my water outfit, for the bargain price of $3. The neck area of the kaftan looked a bit bare. For the whole trip, I looked unsuccessfully for a replacement silver chain for my boulder opal pendant that I have owned for years.  I have just this minute realised that the chain on the paua shell one will be an adequate replacement for the time being.

One interesting thing that I spotted in this shop was that they sell buttons by the glassful. I have never seen that before.  Presumably you bring your own container. 

From Bogangar to Pottsville is just a short hop, via beautiful Norries Headland and Hastings Point. We had no time to stop for photography, but headed straight for the back street where lurks the Pottsville Community Neighbourhood Centre, only to find that the street was chockers with cars. We headed back towards the main drag and managed to find the only parking space in Pottsville.  All became clear after our trek back to the neighbourhood centre, which was having its weekly market day.  The op shop would have been fine by itself, but add all the stuff outside, and it was amazing!

I was the first to find an under-the-building area next door, where I hit serious bingo paydirt. Not only was there a skateboard, but an Adelaide street directory as well.  

It was squeezy upstairs in the clothing area, but eventually we negotiated the change-room, strollers, a helper obsessed with selling a child's Halloween costume to somebody - anybody - there immediately, and strolled back to the car, which just happened to be parked opposite a coffee shop.  Kismet!  Coffee and cakes followed.

I had planned to completely bypass Byron and its traffic congestion and paid parking, but on our recce when Michael and I were heading for the solar train, we found a very quirky oppy indeed at North Byron.  It is called Golden Ripple and has a serious hippy vibe, as well as cheap prices.  The car parking bays are in old spaces for landscaping supplies, which have now had artwork added. 

There was treasure inside, but also loud music, which just about drove Jo around the bend.  I found the only book on my booklist for the whole trip as well as Tennyson's Idylls of a King, which meant I could cross off "book of poetry" on my bingo card.  I was now seriously in the lead.  There was a Lismore T-shirt there that I would have loved to buy but it was too small.  Golden Ripple disappointed me in the magazine department; in fact the search for interesting/unusual magazines for that competition was proving more difficult than I expected.

From Byron, we skirted Ballina and headed up the cutting to Alstonville, where there were three oppies, one of which we had visited years before. It is the Anglican and it is a goodie.

By now, I was getting frustrated by my failure to find an umbrella.  Jan tipped me off that I should look harder in the shed out the back, and sure enough, I spotted one near the door on my way out. I also found a magazine, but it was fairly boring (Horsewyse, for young female horse-lovers). It was, however, free.

We were getting tired, and definitely hungry, but managed to fit in a quick trip to Vinnies before discovering that the only place in town that sold coffee and was still open was the lovely Miles & Henry bookshop.  By the time we had finished there, and regained some energy, the Uniting Church shop had closed. C'est la vie!

 

Pyramid Power

The trip down the M1 wasn't too bad till just north of Burleigh where the navigation software sent us on a detour because of congestion.  It was quite a pretty ride through West Burleigh and I  only missed the correct turn once.  

Our destination was the Pyramid Caravan Park at Tweed Heads West, the origins of whose name seems lost in the mists of time. We could see no pyramids, just cabins that were cheek by jowl with each other.  I was trying to drive into the narrow carport when the man from the site opposite came out and wearily suggested I should back in.  Good suggestion.

I had researched all our accommodation options carefully, because although we are three travellers, we require three beds.  This cabin was supposed to have a queen and two doubles.  The office closed at 4pm and we had to get our keys from a keysafe, so when we discovered we only had two queens there was no hope of talking to the manager.  Research showed that the two alternative bedroom layouts are listed on the park's website, but not the Discovery Parks app, which is how I had booked the (otherwise quite nice) cabin. 

Not one to be daunted, Jo found that one of the lounges was a fold-out bed (that clearly had not been folded out for some time, and that the queen beds were triple-sheeted (or double-sheeted, depending on whether you went to Oxford or Cambridge), so she helped herself to one sheet from each, and voila, there was a third bed. And Jo wasn't even a Girl Guide!

We congratulated ourselves and sat down to wine and cheese and whatever else, when a commercial jet flew over our heads at approximately 200 metres!  We were right under the flypath of Gold Coast Airport.  No wonder this caravan park was cheaper than the others.  It wasn't as bad as it sounded though (which was very bad indeed) because the last plane flew over us at about 8pm, and there was no action until well after we awoke in the morning.

Jo was first up to provide dinner and she outdid herself, with frozen two-course individual serves for each of us.

Busy Kennedy Drive did not seem a suitable venue for an early morning walk, so I just strolled up to the office to give the woman there my rego number, as per instructions, and tell her about the beds. She was concerned (mostly that we had opened up the dusty fold-out bed) and said that next time I should ring after I had booked to confirm that we had the bedding we required. What? At every place you book? Not going to happen.

On the way back to the cabin, I said "good morning" one of our neighbours' wonderful collection of garden gnomes. Lots of permanents in this park.  Some of them of very short stature.

It was time to deck ourselves out in our Colour of Money outfits. I had envisaged a sea of bright, clashing hues, but we were actually quite muted.  Jan was blue for $10 notes; Jo was green for either $100 bills (current) or $2 bills (past). Of course the currency didn't have to be Australian, so I guess she could have been a greenback dollar.  Or a very old pound note.  I made up the cashbox with my silver coin contribution.  

The first op shop I had on the day's itinerary opened at 9am on the Tweed Coast, so we were off and ready early, shoving Mandy's nose out into the Kennedy Drive traffic, otherwise we might still be sitting there.

 

Mount Gravatt, mostly

Almost eighteen months after our last trip, because the McBurneys travelled to Western Australia in the interim, it was my turn to organise Op Shop Road Trip number 11.

The girls arrived from the Sunshine Coast; we had a quick cuppa, then headed off in Mandy the Subaru to Connected Inc at Banyo.  Jo had been there before, but Jan did not know of its existence.  We crossed a few easy items off our 2024 bingo cards and I immediately found treasure.  There was a set of three old pressure cooker baskets there for $5, and they are now mine.  

Off to the southside we then headed, to the first of two church-run op shops on large church campuses.  This one was Gateway, and here I picked up a contender for the third dress theme of the trip.  I had chosen "Colour" movies: this sparkly kafan was perfect for The Colour of Water.  It was a small, but friendly oppie.

Next up was Citipointe, a well-hidden secret revealed to me a few years ago by my cousin Sue.  It is well-stocked to the point of overcrowding, and also sells cheap groceries to those who need a bit of help financially. This was shop number three and I still hadn't found a thing I could wear on day two, when the dress theme was to be The Colour of Money.  I thought that one would be easy.  Outside was a huge bin of huge zucchini...and they were free! So we added to our food stores for the trip.

We headed for Mount Gravatt Plaza, for both sustenance and the Lifeline I had previously recced there, only to find the shop was empty.  Not to worry, there was a cafe nearby.  Out to the main road and underground parking close to three shops in the one block that I had also recced, to discover that the Children's Rights Australia shop - a good one - had also vanished.  Salvos and Vinnies to the rescue.  I found a great TARDIS teapot, but at $30 it stayed there.  I started to find clothes that suited, so I began to feel better.  I also thought I had found the winner of the souvenir competition, a Glen Campbell 51st Los Angeles Open golf tournamemnt whisky bottle from 1977, but at $55, that wasn't going anywhere either.

At Vinnies, there was an enthusiastic but eccentric staff member called Crystelle who had an interesting approach to wrapping.  I had found a candidate for the 2024 mystery object competition, still in its packaging, which she proceeded to roll up and cram into a coffee mug, thus destroying the packaging.

We still hadn't completed our outfits for the next day, and I had only one optional shop left, the YMCA at Upper Mount Gravatt, so we headed there with fingers crossed.  What I found there was actually just the shoes I needed for my Melbourne Cup Day outfit, but still no top for The Colour of Money.

I suggested we try just one more shop, the RSPCA at Underwood, and there I finally found a grey and silver Tshirt - plenty of money is silver - and I even had my sixpence earrings with me, so we were now all ready for the morrow.  It was time to head for the border, where we would lose an hour because of daylight saving time.

Trophy Time

 

We were done.  We headed north to Chateau McBurney, arriving there around noon. Jan needed to get back to Carters Ridge ASAP because it was her husband John's birthday.

 

Michael, meanwhile, needed to do the dreaded prize judging.

 

First up was the Quirky Book Title.  The three major contenders were Orbiting the Giant Hairball (mine), Kosher Lust by Rabbi Shumley Boteach and The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection From the Living Dead.  Michael chose the Rabbi, so Jo had won the first trophy.

Next was the Quirky Kitchen Object.  There were four contenders but Michael chose the thing that looked like a shark (which later research revealed was for cutting avocadoes - the teeth are for the stone).  Jo wins again!  We still don't know what the thing with the green handle is for.

Finally came the Ugliest Souvenir, and we all knew who was going to win that!  So Jo won all three, the first time that feat has been achieved.

Michael presented me with the bingo winner's trophy and Jan with the runner-up award (newly instituted this year).  Then it was time for hasty farewells and Op Shop Road Trip Number ten was over.  

 

A few weeks later, I donated the ugly wall tile to the op shop where Jan works in Cooroy.  Good luck selling that!

For the record, my stash, minus two items redonated along the way:

9 tops

7 pants

7 books

5 balls of wool 

4 small storage containers

2 children's books

2 jigsaws 

2 thin cutting boards for the van

2 postcards

1 pair earrings 

1 pair shorts

Covered coat hanger

PJs for granddaughter

Ornament for my friend Emma

Knife, fork and spoon for van

Ugly souvenir wall tile

Pierre Cardin (!) purse

Beatles Abbey Road mug

Large folding container for van

Baking tray for van

Mysterious kitchen object

Oven glove for van

Barbie doll for granddaughter

Miniature hip flask

Trophy for bingo runner-up

Harrods mini address book

 

Total outlay $175.50

 

Canungra Curiosities

I felt like a morning walk, but not one of Jo's marathons, so waited till she had gone before I crept out, hoping not to wake Jan, with whom I was sharing the chandelier room.  There are some lovely cottages for rent in the street where we were staying, plus a quirky house with a display of old telegraph pole insulators in the front yard.  The couple who lived there had also built a roadside seat completely out of recycled materials, specifically for an old woman who used to walk past every day.  Less than a week before they finished it, she moved to Bundaberg!

Not to be daunted, they turned the seat/shelter into a community library.  Beside it is little wheeled trolley where they bottle herbs from their garden, which can be paid for via an honesty box.

I passed all this, crossed the park, and was headed for the FoodWorks for a sticky beak at the fire damage, when I spied Jo on the front balcony of a coffee shop.  No marathon for her that day.  I ordered a coffee and one of a pair of high-viz blokes tried to chat us up which we were drinking, but they eventually gave up.

After the fire inspection, we headed for the still-closed op shop,which used to be such a good one, but which Jo said had gone downhill, sadly.  Around the side, and in full view of passers-by, is a huge pile of their stock, including books and magazines, all unprotected from any rainfall.  

We resolved to not wait for it to open, went back to breakfast with Jan, and headed up Tamborine Mountain, after a quick, but fruitless, visit to Canungra's wonderful little shoe shop, which was considerately open before 9am.

It rained quite heavily on our way up the Goat Track, which would have been fine, except that Jo's windscreen wipers make a shrieking noise with every pass.  I couldn't help but worry about those books and magazines back in Canungra.

All the oppies we planned to visit were at North Tamborine, and they all turned out to be good ones.  First was the Presbyterian Bargain Centre, where I finally bought two jigsaws.  I had restrained myself up to that point, but these two were too good to leave. 

Next was the RSPCA which is in an old church, with a lovely garden path leading to a back shed full of larger things. Upstairs
is the "man cave" which even has books especially selected to appeal to blokes, as well as the usual clothes and accessories.

For morning tea, Jo had arranged to meet her old friend Julie Lake who now lives on the mountain.  It didn't take long for us to discover that Julie know Jan's brother well, and she and I had had a mutual friend, whose funeral we both attended last year.  It is, indeed, a small world.

Our clothing theme was "clothes not made in China" and we had all managed to pull that off.  Julie did the honours and took the compulsory photo.

We said our goodbyes and headed for the last oppy of the trip, which was Vinnies.  I hit pay dirt there, finding two books for my granddaughter, a Harrods address book, a pair of shorts and a fork and spoon for the caravan collection. Total outlay $13.  

Jan finally got to say Bingo in that last shop, but Jo never did find that foot spa.