It's All South From Here

March 18, 2024

Tanunda-Nuriootpa-Angaston Return

Kookaburras cackled in campground trees as the sun rose over a quiet campground, the families all tucked up safely and quietly in their respective cabins and tents, the Men With Meat fast asleep digesting last night's BBQ. I had the camp kitchen all to myself with the exception of a well-padded gentleman who popped in for a quick cup of tea before a day of golf.

With another warm day forecast I planned an early start for a day spent on the rail trail, riding north through Nuriootpa, kinking down to Angaston where the rail trail ended, and returning the same way. The early start wasn't as early was I would have liked due to my motorbike neighbour and the Englishman from the tent over the way. We had a grand discussion on the differences in weather between Victoria (motorbike man), England (that would be the Englishman), and Queensland/South Australia (yours truly).

The Barossa valley was settled by Germans, many of Lutheran. They built beautiful churches, and then the congregations split and the ones that left built more beautiful churches. There's a lot of beautiful churches in the Barossa towns.

This is Fruchoc Man. Fruchocs are a South Australian lolly: a chewy fruit dipped in chocolate. How do they taste? Hmm, you'll have to come to the Barossa and try them, I'm not going to prejudice you.

It's lucky I'm not a wine drinker, otherwise I would have never made it to Angaston. Cellar doors lined the path, inviting me in to taste wines, honey meads, and all manner of delectables. The path itself was quiet and congenial, well shaded, trending gently uphill with growing views over the valley.

The business of viticulture was evident on an industrial scale.

Vineyards and the machinery of producing wine.

In no time at all I was in Nuriootpa, checking out the main street which, apart from a predilection for growing grape vines in front of all the buildings, was not particularly gripping partly due to the fact that at 0930 on a Monday morning all the cafes and bakeries were yet to open. I took myself back to the rail trial with Angaston in my sights.

Pines whispered in the railway cuttings where corellas and cockatoos, feasting on pine nuts, had carpeted the ground with cones.

Angaston's cute little main street boasted more beautiful buildings and a grape vine arbour in the park. The children's play area at the old railway station still had the long slide down which I slid two years ago, discovering the wet way that there was a puddle at the bottom. A little family played happily on the slide, thwarting my desire to repeat the slide experience without the wet bit.

This building greeted me at the the end of the rail trail in Angaston. There were even bicyclists riding in circles searching for the rail trail, which to be fair is not exactly clearly signed. I like seeing everyday people like these on bicycles.

I had an unremarkable lunch at the bakery: there had to be better places to eat in Angaston, but I was hungry so I went to the first place I saw. Suffering just a tad from beautiful building fatigue, I took an unremarkable amble up and down the main street of Angaston, and went back to the rail trail for the trip home.

A nod to railway heritage on the way out of Angaston.

On the outskirts of Angaston the path curved around the Adelaide Brighton Cement Factory, busy coating everything around it with a thick layer of white dust: the trees, the path, the buildings. I resisted the temptation to knock on the office door and ask about dust mitigation strategies.

Boosted by a stiff tailwind I was back in Tanunda in no time at all, checking out the second-hand shops on the way down the main street. I must say, traveling by bicycle is a great way to curb one's spending on impulse items. Every article was weighed against the effort it would take to pedal uphill while carrying it and subsequently I bought nothing but had fun looking.

Back in the caravan park children and adults competed as to who could garner the best sunburn on the water playground. A silly sheep, escaped from who knows where, munched on the bright green grass near the jumping castle. A sillier couple pursued the sheep with handfuls of grass on the assumption that all sheep were tame enough to hand feed and that a sheep with a whole paddock of green grass would be tempted by their paltry handfuls. The sheep morphed into aggro-sheep and charged at them with threatening bleats. The silly couple retreated, having realised that the better course of action was just to inform the Caravan Park management that sheep had invaded the premises.

This was all fine entertainment and lasted me through the afternoon until it was time to go watch the sun set over the Tanunda cemetery, where the headstones were inscribed in old German from the 1800s.

The only thing I understood was the dates. And the name.

Nuriootpa was the northenmost point of this tour. It's all south from here.

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Today's ride: 35 km (22 miles)
Total: 67 km (42 miles)

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