Recently I posted the story of the disused Glenbrook rail tunnel during World War II. Located in the lower Blue Mountains of New South Wales, the tunnel was secretly used as an RAAF storage depot, for dangerous chemicals such as mustard gas and phosogene. The decision to
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Cinnabar Kitchen in the Blue Mountains village of Blackheath is on The Great Western Highway, just a stroll up the hill from our home. I’m not sure why it took my husband Rob and I so long to go, especially when we had great memories of Ashcrofts,
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On February 19 1922 my great uncle, returned WWI veteran Arthur Singleton, was arrested. According to a later report by the Ulverstone police he was in a disturbed mental state. Like many men, he had never recovered from his war service. As one of the first Australians
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My partner Rob would say that graffiti is just not on…period! This is due to his battle over the electricity sub-station near our property at Blackheath. He has been painting out tags and trying to screen it with bottle brush for years. Only now is he beginning
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William Charles Wentworth; Australian politician, explorer, author, barrister, statesman and landowner. At the height (maybe that should be depth ) of the 1840’s economic depression in New South Wales, sheep were selling at just 9d each and cattle for only a few shillings a head. The crisis
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New exhibition galleries are due to open at Sydney’s Mitchell Library in October 2018. Here is a little of what is underway; As part of our transformation of
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The Bank of Australia was established in 1826, in competition with the Bank of New South Wales. It was located in the Joseph Underwood buildings, in lower George Street. On Sunday, September 15 1828 a cashier was horrified to discover a gaping hole in the bank’s
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In 1916 The Paragon Café was established at Katoomba in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales by Greek immigrant Theo Simos and his family. It became an enormous success, and far more than a café. The art-deco interior still features a banquet room, and a ballroom.
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In this modern age of hype and glitter where the salacious exploits of reality stars dominate our media and conversation, it’s sometimes challenging to recognize a real heroine when you see one. But society beauty turned rugged polar explorer Louise Arner Boyd (1887-1972) was the real deal.
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Writers of all genres have to endure patronizing remarks. If I had a dollar for every person who has told me they would love to write if only they had more time, I could throw away my (admittedly modest) royalty cheques. The inference is that they are
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