We’ve just returned from Jamieson in the Victorian high Country. It is one of those places that we find grabs us and calls us back annually. A place where the world can be forgotten for a day or two or more. This is an extract from the journal of 2013 when we first stumbled across this the most idyllic of places.
At the junction of the Goulburn and Jamieson Rivers is the town of Jamieson one we’ve never visited before. It is charming. There are small timber cottages with picket fences and overflowing cottage gardens. The streets are lined with European shade trees and the lawns are bursting with English daisies. We’re instantly captivated. It’s easy to just wander as there is almost no traffic. There is a park on the banks of the Jamieson River and it is flanked by lovely cottages and shady gardens. Another park called ‘The Island’ is at the intersection of the Goulburn and Jamieson Rivers. This town is a true sleepy hollow. Half a dozen dusty old trucks arrive in town. They are from the Historic Commercial Vehicle Club and they have been driving “across the top” and sleeping under the stars. They’ve come down through the Nariel Valley and over the Great Dividing Range from Corryong to Omeo, then back up and over the mountains again to Jamieson. Bedfords, Internationals and the oldest truck is a 1932 Dodge.