Jervis Bay

On our way to Jervis Bay we followed a coastal highway that at times seemed a long way from the sea.  Our first stop was another little gold mining town - Central Tilba.  Lovingly maintained buildings oozed history even if they sold different wares to the 1800's.  Sweets, leather, clothes and another type of gold that has kept the town alive "cheese".

Harry found a sun hat with a wide brim which I am sure will travel with us far beyond Australia.  

After picnicking in the car park we drove along more of the same picturesque countryside to Narooma Bay where we sat and watched millions of soldier crabs running around in a rather meaningless manner - that is to a human - but to them I am sure there was a purpose. 

It took a while to find our accommodation in Jervis Bay.  I think we were half hoping for a similar camping ground to Merimbula – so circled the tent sites in the hope of finding a cabin with our name on it.  We eventually asked at the main motel (women said we had to log in on the key pad outside the office - our name, cabin and phone number before she could talk to us).  She showed us what to do, and then gave us directions without going into the office!!

That night after dinner we took a lazy stroll along the beach, still and calm and dotted with people playing guitars and cooking food on barbeques.  We then sat reading and playing on our phones only interrupted by an unwelcome very very large beetle that dropped on me from the ceiling.  After a little screech (hate to admit that) we sent it outside, only for it to return (or one of its mates) later on. 

We had spied the Fleet Air Arm Museum on the map and so in the morning took a not very long drive through the country to the Museum.  Harry enjoyed it and after a while I found a nice place in the sun to sit and talked to the soldier on reception/duty.

The blog is less about the planes and more about some of the stories I saw as I walked around.

On the wall as we entered there was a list of squadrons - each had their own motto, which to me spoke about the leadership styles:

723 - wings of the albatross
724 - live and learn
725 - be aggressive
805 - over sea and sand
808 - strength in unity
816 - imitate the action of a tiger
817 - to act with spirit and courage
851 - be forthright.

Which squadron would I like to be in?  Hypothetical question really as I would never have considered the military.

And then there was an excellent art exhibition from the navy artist - but I can't remember his name and google isn't helping me!!

My friend at reception helped us find our way to Maroomba a historic home in Nowra.  We could have used a map, but stingy us did not want to pay the $9 roaming fee.

Maroomba was a typical old homestead, but with a difference.  Built in 1885 the elderly owner took pity on his unmarried daughters, and instead of leaving the home to his eldest son he left it to his unmarried daughters in perputity.  Generations  (about 4) lived in the house until the 1960's when the last of the long line decided she preferred city life and sold the house to the historical society.  

To raise funds and I guess as a marketing ploy the homestead runs an annual art show, where artists have to create something relevant to the family or home.  There were creations made of lace, wood, paintings, plaster - you think of it there was a creation in it.  Some were very good, but neither the guide or us particularly liked the winner - a handbag crafted from hair and arranged in a ponytail. 

The house had not been updated since it had been left in the 1960's.  And before that any new appliance did not replace, but sat alongside the older one eg a hoover twintub sat alongside an old copper in the laundry, a 1960's stove alongside a wood fired stove. 

It was quite a find.

In the evening we walked to a local market - mainly food stalls selling meat products - but we did find some chips and as we sat munching a number of people asked us where we had found them. 

Our last night was spent in Sydney.  We have been to this city a number of times but enjoyed catching the train into town and walking through the gardens (with a stop at the Anzac memorial), along the harbour to the Opera House - something we have done many times before. It was a fun week.