After a most enjoyable stay in Queensland we decided to take the inland route home. I have travelled up and down the coast a number of times and, although it is fabulous, I wanted to see some different places. So we set off down Steve Irwin Drive and the Bruce Highway on the five hour journey across the border into New South Wales where we headed for Nimbin, just inland from Byron Bay.
Nimbin is famous for its drug culture and I expected it to be full of young people getting wasted but that was not the case. It seems today's young travellers are more sensible than their predecessors as Nimbin seems to be populated almost exclusively by aging hippies who went there in the 1970s and 80s to smoke dope and never left. Most of the residents have dreadlocks, say 'Man' a lot and bear more than a passing resemblance to Catweazle, even the women!
It is an entertaining stopover, very friendly and the rainbow painted houses and cosmic shops are nice and jolly. We chose to stay at the Nimbin Showground which was a bit of a risk as it all looked a bit overgrown and frayed around the edges. It is clearly no longer used as a showground and the caretaker was another aging hippy living in a camper van by the entrance. We handed over our $10 each and parked the caravan before exploring the facilities with a bit of trepidation. There was nothing to worry about though because the showers and toilets, in spite of being quite old, were spotless. Showgrounds are a good camping option in country towns. There are cheap, always near the town centre and usually take dogs but you do take a risk on what the facilities will be like.
It was very peaceful in this showground too (maybe all the other campers were stoned) and it was surrounded by beautiful countryside, lots of rolling hills and trees that we describe as English green rather than the grey-green usually seen in Australia.
It was surprisingly cold over night as Nimbin is quite high up and, after a flat white in the vegan gluten free, msg and csg free cafe, we went to look at a permaculture garden. The idea as far as I could tell was to let different plants grow alongside each other in a mutually beneficial way, a bit like planting flowers in your veg patch to encourage pollination but on a much larger scale. Ian was impressed by the garden but I thought it was a bit of a mess and the term permaculture was just used as an excuse for not weeding or tidying up. 

We hit the road again and drove through more lush, green countryside on our way to Tenterfield where we planned to stay at the showground again. It could not have been more different than the Nimbin experience. The showground itself was immaculate, all manicured lawns and  spotless amenities and the town was an example of prosperous country living. The buildings were grand and beautiful but it was a bit of a soulless place and is the seat of the Deputy Prime Minister Barnaby Joyce who is leader of the National Party (it is a coalition government) and the whole place felt like very white, wealthy farmer territory.

 One reason I had wanted to visit Tenterfield was because it was the birthplace of one of Australia's favourite sons, Peter Allen. He became known in the UK for 'When My Baby Smiles At Me I Go To Rio' but he was hugely successful here. One of his famous songs was 'The Tenterfield Saddler' written about his grandfather and I was pleased to see the saddlery was still going strong. 

There were loads of flies in Tenterfield and they were a feature of our next drive on to Tamworth. It was fascinating the way the scenery changed as we drove through Celtic Country - Glen Innes, Glencoe, Ben Lomond. The landscape became rocky with brown grass but the flies didn't let up as this is cattle and sheep country, in fact they peaked when we stopped to change drivers at Armidale, so much so we did not bother to look at the town but got back in the car as quickly as possible.

 We passed through Guyra, which has an annual Lamb and Potato Festival and is home to the Big Lamb (it can't be that big because we couldn't find it) and boasts the highest caravan park in Australia at 4330ft above sea level.

 On through Uralla, home of the Big Soldier and the burial place of Captain Thunderbolt the notorious bushranger until we reached Tamworth, the country music capital of Australia.
Apart from the Big Golden Guitar and a visitor centre lined with guitars signed by the likes of Dolly Parton and Kenny Rodgers, Tamworth was a bit ordinary really. Just another big town with a lot of flies.