28th April - Day 12

Has anyone heard of Lake Cargelligo?  We certainly hadn’t until we were told by a fellow camper two nights ago.  Well we found it and what an inland oasis it is.  Photos cannot adequately show the beauty of this little town.  But the beauty is not all as we enjoyed a special experience of a day in this town.

 It is situated about 100klms south west of Condobolin.  Where is Condobolin you say?   Well we will leave you to check that out on the map.  The lake was discovered in 1817 by John Oxley and the first settlement (a farming lease) was started soon after.

For us the experience was the fun part though.  Our first stop was to fill with fuel at the local BP station.  While filling we noticed a small sign taped to the bowser, “Please note – we wil be closed as we are going away for a few days from Friday and probably be back some time on Monday afternoon”.  Can only assume they had an invitation to the Royal Wedding. 

Then we walked through town to the bakery to buy a treat for morning tea.  Ordered an apple slice and a slice of carrot cake.  Noted they were larger than we can buy in home state.  The lady said they cost $4.20 and I thought that was each but it turned out it was for two.  I noted Coffee Club couldn’t compete here.

I needed some grease for the caravan so dropped into the Auto Parts store.  Was greeted with an amazing site.  Rows of shelves with many products but one could not get to them for all the partly opened boxes on the floor.  I was third in line to be served and the two before me were talking real slow about how good it was to see the green crops.  The owner with his half rim glasses was sitting behind the counter with his head just prominent above the piles of fan belts, bearings, and many boxes that covered the counter.  He was talking to a customer about the local football results, no rush here.  Finally it was my turn to be served and he went to the cash register.  At that point I realised he had been standing (not sitting) all the time.

We decided to stay at the Caravan Park, great little place and cheap as chips. At the entry there was no one to be found but a sign on the window advising to choose our own site and they would catch up about payment later. Catching up has proven difficult since the manager has come back from her other job.

Went for a walk along a walking / cycle path that followed the lake shore.  At one point on the path there were a number of trees.  The story goes that after the end of the first World War the community gathered to honour the 51 local men who had died.  Each family who had lost a relative planted a tree.  These families were then assigned the responsibility of nurturing their tree to maturity.  The school children were given the task of choosing a name for the site and they decided it should be called Liberty Park.  Not sure how many people lived in this area in the early 1900s but there are not that many now so losing 51 men in one war was a significant loss.  Today the trees border the edge of the lake and continue to be a monument to the fallen.  Is that a great Anzac story or is that a great Anzac story?

The gardens in the houses here are full of roses.  Alice loves roses.  Bit concerned we are not going to get out of town.

Just before we left this camp we mentioned to the Lord that no new conversations with others had occurred and we sought His leading that we were on track.

Shortly after Alice went to the camp office to pay our bill for the night.  There she met an elderly lady and her son.  The lady appeared distressed and Alice soon discovered that their car had been broken into overnight and among other things their valuable camera had been stolen.  Alice asked her if she could pray for her and then discovered that the lady was a Christian and she welcomed the prayer.

The lady (Margaret McNally) told Alice that she had written a book on Healing.  She said she was really meant to run into Alice.  This was a reminder to Alice that we need to be ever ready to share God’s love because we never know when He is bringing someone across our path.  Margaret’s writing of the book and her life story as a nurse blessed Alice.