A Marlo Muster, Yinnar you know?

Day 10 Tuesday 22/2/22 Heyfield to Yinnar, warm

That cursed red light on the dashboard is on again and the transmission is groaning, yet the road is as flat as a tack, dairying country.

We head back into Traralgon then out to Churchill. This valley, so rich in brown coal and now the old coal-fired power station is looking decrepit as it is slowly being torn down. A relic now of another era.

The Yinnar RV Stop has only been open a year and sits on Crown land that once belonged to the railway. Another bygone era, there was once a railway line between Morwell and Mirboo North up on the Strzelecki Range and it serviced the dairy farms in the days before refrigerated milk tankers. The line closed in 1966. The RV Stop was the brainchild of a local. Kevin a caravanner himself could see the advantage in creating a stopover in this region as there is little to offer around here in freedom camping. They’ve created 8 spacious and grassy bays with gardens between. There’s a rural vista behind, a book exchange, and a single toilet block nearby. The town is a few steps away and it has a pub, butcher, coffee shop, newsagent, and a hairdresser.

Spacious sites at Yinnar, Vic

Now as I’ve explained this is a dairying and grazing region and as we arrive the paddock behind us is busy with black cows, who quickly disappear. An old farmer (yes, older than us, drops by on his ATV. “Where are the cows?” says Elle. “We call ‘em steers …and they taste nice.” Says the farmer. “Watch out that wire is hot. If you’ve got problems with your ticker, it’ll fix it.” We make a note to tell Shirley Temple when she arrives as her ticker has been giving her Larry Dooley. He’s a fascinating guy and tells us his family have been farming here for 7 generations and how he remembers sitting on the pilot’s knee when they were crop dusting.

The farmer leaves and Kevin drops by to tell us his plans for the camp, he’s applied for a dump point and he’d like to build a gazebo too.

In a town this small we quickly realise that everyone knows that we’re ‘the caravanners’. We cross the road, almost at a run*, to buy some meat from the butcher. It’s always worthwhile buying meat in the country to take home as the butchers are so good. We visit a delightful little art gallery where 3 artists are bustling about and having a ball. The leadlight work by one of their husbands is breathtaking. We’re even lured into the town museum when Kevin spreads the word that there are ‘caravanners’ in town. The town hosts an annual sculpture event and artworks are dotted about. Gosh, this is a vibrant little place.

Making a dash for the butcher
And he’s got plump breasts!
The Catholic Church, Yinnar (just across the road if salvation is required)

We spend the arvo chatting in the shade before walking across to the community-owned pub. It’s Tuesday Parmi and Pot Night and we’re so glad we booked as the place is full. It’s not quite what we expected…not only were there chicken parmi’s, but beef, lamb, turkey, kangaroo and with umpteen different toppings. PT and Shirley Temple both near faint when their orders arrive on plates that would best be described as platters! Needless to say, most of us asked for doggy boxes. Walking back to camp we meet a Sydney couple who are heading to the pub, they’re on a return visit just for the parmi’s. Yep, I reckon we’d drive a 1000kms for one of those parmi’s too!

Mine was smaller than Shirley Temple’s but it sits on a pillow of mashed potato and there’s a treasure chest of bacon, fried egg, and I think I found roasted peppers in there too!

Accom: $5.00

Fuel: $60.03

Towing Kms: 69Kms

Where’s Yinnar? About 19kms south of Morwell, considering that it is only a few minutes off the M1 and away from traffic noise it makes a perfect stopover after leaving Melbourne when heading east.

*Run, bloody hell, more of a hobble as this lot have an assortment of replacement hips and knees, a dodgy back (poor old broomstick is looking better today), and a dicky ticker or two.

Parmi? – The Aussie corruption of an Italian Veal Parmigiana. A Parmi is a flattened chicken breast crumbed and deep-fried with a tomato and ham topping overflowing with melted cheese. Yeah, I know, it sounds like something that killed Elvis. But country pubs seem to be in a silent battle to outdo each other with their variation on this popular dish. At Yinnar I think we found the winner!

Thanks for a perfect day Yinnar.

13 thoughts on “A Marlo Muster, Yinnar you know?

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