Canola Chronicle
Who says Australia is just burnt sienna sprinkled with green and lined with mesmerising hues of blues? Spring spews a panoply of colours ranging from lavender, mauve, pink to warmer yellow, orange, red. This year, we decided to chase the bright yellow! 💛
Though bunches of acacia bring the brilliance to our doorsteps, the sprawling spread of canola fields lured us to explore the Canowindra region 500 Km SW of home.
We've been using canola oil ever since we stepped on Aussie soil, but never gave it a thought until Oindrila Clicks pronounced its popularity through her portraits in Insta. Thus, we set out to drive, stroll, drift in a hotair balloon through and over the rustic roads weaving their ways in the bucolic beauty of Temora, Bermedman, Grenfell, Cowra, Canowindra, Koorawatha, and Woodstock - the evanescent canola fields limned in soft sunrays were a romantic lemony sea.
Romantic? Indisputably yes! What youngster of 90s would ever get over the vivid sequence of the epic DDLJ's tujhe dekha to ye jana sanam. The ghost of timeless love SRK and Kajol painted through Simran sprinting to Raj through the mustard fields, danced serenely in the acres of yellows here. Most of the farmlands are fiercely protected (and for good reasons) with stretches of barbed wire, but a couple of farmers left the gates open - intentionally or mistakenly didn't matter. We warily treaded to the edge of the crops in one one of them, taking utmost care to not touch any of it, to recreate the golden DDLJ moments in our own way!
Garbed in yellow, Temora in its stillness, gloats of the golden history it shaped during Gold Rush and World War II. The Temora Aviation Museum proudly exhibits aircrafts of the past century and arranges thrilling aerial shows to commemorate its World War days. Little wonder, the skies were busier than the roads and we were fortunate to witness some Top Gun-ish exhilaration as we merged to B85 from Lake Centenary. The fields, on the other hand, whisper of their transformation from gold panning to agriculture.
While thick lush yellow carpets of canola kept us entralled, the highlight of the trip was the coveted hotair balloon ride. We were up early and braved the cold to huddle up near a spot in the Temora Aviation premises at 5:15 am. Alegra, a balloon dog, greeted each of us along with the balloon drivers. A short briefing later, we set off by a van for a 20-min drive NE while the quaint sleepy town was still in deep slumber. By the time the first rays of sun impaled the dark horizon, the organisers and volunteers had set up the basket and inflated the ballon. We hopped in the basket brimming with excitement - farmland soon sped beneath our feet. The balloons were bright spots in the yellow-green panorama - sometimes skimming the crop and at times pretty high in the azure above. Our hour long drive ended with a thud as if to jerk us back to reality - but unbeknowest to us, that's how the balloon and basket land and drag for a while on its side. Taken by surprise, we clutched onto the handles and hung like hammocks within our small section of the basket. Once on the ground, we lent our hands in folding the humongous deflated balloon into its large blue bag and stowing the basket back to the trailer. A courtesy breakfast wrapped up this three-hour experience that we'll cherish forever.
The accommodations, Sky Lodge at Temora and Econo Lodge at Cowra, were cosy, comfortable, commodious - easing the weariness of long drives. Warm food and hospitality at Masala Library by Sid slaked our hunger and soothed our fatigue.
What's an Aussie road trip without a Big Thing in it? Grenfell offered The Big Pick and Pan, and Bathurst baited us to an unsealed road adventure to tick The Big Dog off the long list of Big Things. We stopped a couple of times to admire the silo arts and wall arts. World Peace Bell at Cowra clamoured for some of our time and we happily obliged to snag a few snaps. We picked up raw honey and chucked the price in an unmonitored box kept outside the gate of a dwelling on our way to Koorawatha; the fence was bedecked with cycles of all sizes, lending it a unique character, worth capturing!
The concluding day of the trip was a fantastic celebration of Father's Day, flavoured with a dash of canola flowers!!! Dad and son colour coordinated like they do each year and I chimed in - why let go of any chance to denim around! Thanks to our son for picking up the tab for a scrumptious brekkie at a quiet cafe in Cowra to thank dear dad.
And here's a shout out to the persistence in my spouse, orchestrating the trip and driving a whooping 1400 Km; it was no mean feat!
Return trip was insipid; our car lazily careened out of Woodstock and we sadly waved goodbye to the grandure of the canola farms. Our eyes groped the land along A32 for any vestigial patches of yellow, but in vain. Clusters of acacia bobbed in breeze along the highway as if in an endeavour to supplant the vibrance we got accustomed to, but those that otherwise usually caught attention, did little to satiate our "missing the canolas" feeling. Closing our eyes, however, brought back the images of the yellow fluff juxtaposed starkly by the greens just like the daffodils in the eminent poet's inward eye.
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
William Wordsworth
Dona, Sydney, Sep '25
Tips for future planning: the crops of Canowindra region appeared taller, stronger, and thicker than their cousins in Temora region. It's better to adhere to the routes suggested for the tourists by the aficionados of the region's InformationCentre.
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Many thanks!!!