18/03/2024 There And Back Again: Tanunda to Tanunda

I was up bright and early watching the sun rise over the water park playground which was blessedly quiet in the early morning.  Kookaburras cackled, but the families were all tucked up safely and quietly in their respective cabins and tents, as were the Men With Meat, so I could enjoy having the camp kitchen all to myself.  I planned a day ride from Tanunda via Nuriootpa to Angaston and back again, all on the rail trail.  Another hot day was forecast, hence the early start but not as early as I would have liked because I was co-opted into the morning talk circle with my motorbike-riding 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 (guess who), and Queensland/South Australia (that would be me).

Talk circle not pictured.

Lutheran church on the way out of Tanunda.

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.  

Chocolate liqueurs... Now we're talking!

The business of wine making was evident on an industrial scale.

In no time at all I was in Nuriootpa, checking out the main street where old buildings were festooned with, you guessed it, grape vines.  At 0930 on a Monday morning all the cafes and bakeries were yet to open. I took myself back to the rail trial, planning for coffee in Angaston.

The trail wound through more vineyards, leaves all turning various shades of autumn.

And in some cases, no leaves at all.

A nod to railway heritage on the outskirts of Angaston.

Angaston had a cute little main street, with more of the same beautiful buildings and a grape vine arbour in the park. The children's play area at the 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 experience without the wet bit.

I had an unremarkable lunch at the bakery: there have to be better places to eat in Angaston, I'm sure.

Angaston streetscape.

On a hot day the old railway cuttings, lined with pines, provided welcome shade and coolness.

On the outskirts of Angaston the path curved around the Adelaide Brighton Cement Factory, busily coating everything around it white: the trees, the path, every surface had its own layer of dust.  I held my breath as I went past.  

Everything coated with a layer of cement dust.

Boosted by a stiff tailwind I zoomed back to Tanunda, checking out the second-hand shops in the main street on the way.  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 the water park was at full throttle, children and adults competing as to who could garner the best sunburn.  A silly sheep, escaped from who knows where, munched on the bright green grass near the  jumping castle.  A sillier couple (who should have known better) pursued the sheep with handfuls of grass on the assumption that all sheep are 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 tolerated this for some time before morphing into aggrosheep and charging 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.  All this activity kept me entertained until sunset, which I watched from Tanunda's historic cemetery while trying unsuccessfully to decipher the headstone engraving written in German a century ago.

And then the mosquitoes came out, so I retired to my tent.