Arriving at Echuca was like arriving at a dry dusty frontier town. The pastures gradually gave way to dry cut hay as we drove north towards the NSW border. Speaking of border, this was the last day before the border checks initiates on the Victoria side, after the COVID outbreak of the Northern Beaches. Sydneysiders were barred from Victoria, but rural NSW can still enter Victoria via a permit system, which appeared to be still a work in progress with just a few hours left of border closure.
The Echuca Quest hotel was like every other Quest hotel in Australia. It’s clean, semi-modern, practical but lacked any form of charm that you’d expect from a historical town like Echuca. I wish I had booked a charming B&B where the elderly owner would accost you in the morning as you drowsily descent down from a creaky wooden staircase and ask about your day, while making you a dilute milky instant coffee. Instead I got corporate sterility, which I guess was serviceable for a couple of nights.
The hotel was completely booked out and all within the past 24 hours, and you can guess why. The carpark was half filled with police cars ready to deploy along the border crossing. It’s a mildly disturbing sight to see so many police cars in one place, but I soon forgot all about it as we sauntered towards the Port of Echuca.
Echuca is divided into 2 parts, the town center towards the south and the Port of Echuca in the North. As far as I can tell the tourist activities were all around the port, which consisted of 2 parallel streets that ran along side the Murray River. The smaller dirt street that was essentially the elevated bank of the Murray was lifted straight out of a Western film. Every building was restored to their original condition, including the hotels, pubs and even the signage. There was even an old horse drawn carriage that rode up and down the street. My initial impression was conflicted, I wasn’t sure if I found it charming or too kitsch. It almost looked a bit too fairytale, too much like a film set.
Whatever apprehension I had about the streets were immediately shocked away by the piercing striek of a paddlesteamer whistle. The noise gave me a visceral fright that caused me to jump, and caused Ruby to run over me asking to be picked up. A few more loud whistles followed and I immediately ran towards the viewing platform on the wooden port to get my first glimpse of the steam paddleboat. It was was a delightful little wooden boat named Emmylou, just maneuvering to dock. To my genuine surprise there was not just one boat, but dozens of paddlesteamers all lined up against the dusty bank of the Murray and dozens more of modern house boats in the distance. It was truly a sight to behold and instantaneously transported me back in time. I was instantly smitten.
The port of Echuca was once the largest inland port of Australia. A giant wooden structure over 300 meters long was erected to sevice the 200 paddle steamers that would docking daily. The cargo (mainly wool) would ship up and down the Murray, and arrive in Echuca, where a train literally parked on top of the wooden dock awaiting the cargo. The port flourished because of the seemless transfer between boat and train, but ironically it was the train eventually brought about the downfall of the Echuca paddle streamers.
There was neat little museum that explained the history of the port and also contained a lot of historic artefacts, including an entire steam train, engine and carriage. You can access the multi-level dock structure which is more impressive from water level. There are 4 different level at which boats can dock, depending on the height of the river. The top level is so tall that I cannot even imagine the volume of water required to flood the river up to that height. Apparently, and not infrenquently, the Murray would flood the port and along with the town.
It was too late in the afternoon and we missed the last paddlesteamer. I made a booking to board a paddlestreamer first thing tomorrow morning. In the mean time, Ruby and I explored the township while Tracey returned to the hotel for some shut-eye.
The Shamrock hotel in Echuca is famous for having the most types of Parma in Australia, possibly the world. 101 different varieties! I wanted a hearty mid afternoon snack, but alas, the kitchen is not open for another hour. I had a pint of Guinness instead.
I moved on to Beechworth Bakery next, which as the name suggest, is the bakery from Beechworth. For those unfamiliar with Victoria, Beechworth is charming little gold mining town about 1 hour south of the NSW Victorian border surrounded by pretty hills and gorges as well as lots of excellent wineries. The place has recently become somewhat of a rural mecca for authentic regional cuisine that’s all about farm to table. Beechworth Bakery hold the biggest building on the main corner of town, and is so popular that 6 further stores have sprouted up around rural Victoria. Unfortunately, the Beechworth bakery is one of the worst bakeries in the Australia, and every iteration of the bakery is as bad as the next. And for some reason, I am always drawn to the bakery everytime I visit a small town that has one, like a moth to flame. Every single one of the bakeries are decorated similarly, and appear immediately warm and charming. The interior is always woodlined with lots of little banners and pretty pictures of pastries and pies. The cakes in the displays cases always looked appealing from afar, that is until you moved in for a closer look and the quality can only be described as soviet-era. Nothing ever looks appetizing and for some inexplicable reason I always end up buying a couple of things, which I immediatley regret. This time I got a bacon and cheese toasty and a french vanilla square, both were below average and barely edible. I sat there with Ruby chowing down my dry oily sandwich, as I re-evaluated my food and life choices. How did they trick me again? How did my life go so wrong?
The American Pub is a gastro pub right opposite the Quest hotel. It’s a beautifully renovated historical corner pub that has a huge undercover area and a stylish rooftop tapas bar. A talented young girl was on stage this afternoon putting her own spins on some classic tunes. Ruby loved her and refused to leave as she was so entranced by the singing. The pub did some great food at usual pub prices, and tonight was roast night, which packed in the locals looking for a cheap and quality feed. We left full and happy and headed back for an early night.
Tomorrow we are getting on the paddlesteamers.
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