Art's Farm Day 11 - Home

The last day of this trip was, it always is, the return for home.

Despite our reservations about Patonga Beach Park, it still delivers as a quiet place to lay your head. Whether it stays that way over the coming weekend during the blues festival, won't be the fault of the park. Well, maybe not their fault entirely as they won't make the noise but there doesn't appear to be supervision overnight so no idea what you do if your neighbours are objectionable.

We had a good night's sleep, rose, packed and left early. Without opposing traffic owing to the hour, the steep ascent up from the beach to the top of the ridge, was a slow one but after we cleared the 25km/h hairpin bend on Umina Point, we were home free. A fuel top up in Umina and then the slow journey to the M1 freeway.

Once we made the Freeway it was straightforward, with volume light and flowing freely.

We stopped at Wattaka Rest Area for a cuppa. Unfortunately, the toilets were disgusting, as I'm afraid they often are at this rest stop. I pity those with children or older patrons. Its very easy to ask questions as to why they aren't cleaned more regularly but that avoids the point of the filthy people who leave them in this state in the first place. I really do wonder that concern for others has slipped so far but every time I do I think I sound twenty years older. 

The caboose kept rolling after morning tea, joining the New England Highway just after Branxton and on to Scone for lunch at Elizabeth Park - its the small one with the statue of horse, across the road from the Tourist Information Centre. While Sue made sandwiches, I was intrigued by the sound of an aircraft engine. Although I had only heard it once before, it was very familiar. There in the sky to the west, a Supermarine Spitfire was doing barrel rolls, vertical climbs to a stall, loops and all variety of aerobatic tricks. I couldn't believe my eyes! After watching for while and with no thought of those sandwiches, I went to the TIC for details. 

They call themselves the Hunter Warbirds and they have a museum, conduct tours, joyflights and hold an annual airshow called Warbirds Over Scone (covid permitting). Established by the late Colin Pay, who was a pioneer in restoring aircraft which had been used by defence forces around the world, it has a bevy of aircraft. The Spitfire, which I saw is one of the still operational aircraft in the collection. There is also a P-51 Mustang, a P-40 Kittyhawk, a Hawker Hurricane, a Focke-Wulf 190, the Australian designed and built Wirraway, a Chech L-39 Aero Albatross twin jet engine fighter and a Fokker Dr.I Triplane (the model the Red Barron flew). This is just some of the collection.

I've already invited my fellow aviation-net brother to come to the airshow next year.

It was becoming a long day and before we would get home, we had another stop, this time at Willow Tree at the Gate Cafe. They were closing but we kind enough to prepare our order. Sometimes stops like these give you pause to think about the journey. Not today. We just wanted to get home.