We didn’t rush out this morning as Brisbane woke up under a low grey sky. Our normal view of the city buildings from Camelia Avenue was almost completely swallowed in fog with only the tips of the tallest buildings poking through. It was the kind of morning that makes you want to slow down, but we wanted to be true to our mission, loading the car and pointing it towards Stanthorpe, often the coldest place in Queensland.
The fog clung to the landscape all the way out of Brisbane, softening the paddocks and hiding the hills. We stopped at Aratula, a small town and key service hub for tourists and transport operators, and found a decent coffee at the BP petrol station, a popular stopping place for people heading to the campsites at nearby Lake Moogerah. Beyond Aratula the road climbs toward Cunningham’s Gap, where the only real delay of the drive came courtesy of the ongoing roadworks in a seemingly never‑ending battle against rockfalls. For years this stretch has been one of the most landslide‑prone sections of highway between Brisbane, the Southern Downs and ultimately Sydney. The latest round of works has carved rock‑fall netting and concrete barriers into the mountainside. It’s slow going, but as you crawl past mesh pinned into the rock you get a real sense of how precarious this pass remains.
I’ve been visiting Warwick for many years with both my sister and brother having lived here at different times. My brother is still based in town. Our main stop was to spend 30 minutes at the Warwick Regional Art Gallery. The main space was hosting a textile exhibition inspired by the artist’s travels, aptly titled “Out of My Suitcase”. The pieces were like collages in fabric, combining layers of stitched colour, patterns and found materials which came together as intimate travel stories and fragments of journeys. In the adjoining room, an exhibition of timber-work showcased beautifully crafted furniture.
The gallery had only just farewelled “The Red Dress”, a travelling installation built around one striking garment and the stories of the women behind it. It will be in the Museum of Brisbane until mid-September before continuing its international tour. It sounded like it had been the kind of piece that had been talking point for this small town.
From there we followed the New England Highway to our next stop, Sutton’s Juice Factory, which is mostly famous for its apple pie. In our newfound spirit of sensible eating, we shared a slice that was easily big enough for two. It arrived with cream and an apple cider–cinnamon ice cream, that made it harder to pretend we were being sensible at all. As well as the apple pie and juice Sutton’s also sells a wide range of condiments, like fruit pastes, jams and vinegars and is well worth a visit.
We checked in for the next three nights at Whiskey Gully Cottages at Severnlea. The cottages are clean, comfortable and practical, and the owners are very personable and helpful. This was especially handy when we managed to lock the key inside. Our host drove straight down on her quad-bike and let us back in, no drama at all. With a bit of daylight to spare I wandered around with the camera looking for wildlife; the kangaroos were a bit skittish, but a few birds cooperated and the sunset light was lovely across the paddocks.
Dinner was at Varias, in the old Queensland College of Wine Tourism building, which has recently shifted from the former university-run wine college model to new local ownership. The restaurant feels very much alive and well under the change, with a strong focus on regional food and wine. We both started with the pork belly, scallop and kimchi salad, then Deb had the truffle and mushroom gnocchi while I went for the porterhouse steak with bacon and brussel sprout. We finished by sharing a panna cotta for dessert which was a perfect finish to a great meal.
Back at the cottage, Deb stayed inside, painting and working on a jigsaw while I hauled the smart telescope and my EOS R DSLR camera out into the paddock for some astro-photos. Out in the country the sky is much cleaner, although a half moon made things a bit more challenging than I’d hoped. Still, the shots were pretty decent for a cold winter night. After about an hour my hands were stinging from the cold, so I packed up and headed back inside to warm up by the fire.
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