Sketches of Castlemaine; One

Sketches of Castlemaine: One

On June 7, 2014, we went to the small town of Castlemaine, about 90 minutes’ drive north and slightly west of Melbourne. It was the Queen’s Birthday long weekend; the event was the inaugural Castlemaine Jazz Festival; and our band was playing a couple of sets. We left home early, about 7.30am, and set off on the Monash Freeway, intending to take the Bolte Bridge onto the Calder Highway. But be warned if you are thinking of going that way; the signage on the Westgate Bridge Freeway is really very confusing. Emerging from the tunnel, we saw a large green sign clearly marked “Bendigo”, over the right-hand lane so got into that lane. However, very shortly after that, there was a large green sign over the left-hand lane also clearly marked ‘Bendigo”. But by the time we managed to get across the several lanes of heavy traffic, it was too late and we had missed the exit ramp. We could see it very clearly as we drove parallel to it for nearly a kilometre, about five metres to our left; but we were separated from it by an impenetrable concrete barrier. We saw it sweep away to our left, then, in a great arc, sweep back, over our head and onto the Bolt Bridge. But we were fain to continue over the Westgate Bridge, drive toward Ballarat until we reached the Western Ring Road, and drive along that monstrosity of a road until we came to the Calder Highway exit—a distance of some 15K beyond the missed exit. We were not best pleased, as you might imagine.

But the rest of the drive was very pleasant. The sun was rising nicely, and there were pockets of mist in the hollows and valleys, looking like calm lakes, with trees sticking up like masts and tattered sails of old square-rigged sailing ships that had sunk quietly to the bottom. Everywhere was green, and it was very nice to drive along, sometimes through rolling countryside, sometimes through remnants of bush. Traffic was light, and thus the journey was very enjoyable. Just before  Castlemaine we drove through the old quaint village of Chewton, and made a mental note to revisit it sometime when we had a bit more time to spare. But we had to get to Castlemaine this time, so drove on.

Arrived at Castlemaine, we had no difficulty locating the Festival Registration Office, conveniently located at a large car park, meant to serve the local IGA supermarket. Registration completed, we repaired to the Comma, as the old Commercial Hotel is now called, to set up for our first gig starting at 11.00am. In all, there were to be seven venues running concurrently; each band having 45 minutes playing time, with a 15 minute changeover. Being first cab off the rank, we could take our time setting up, and still have time for a coffee. Our groupies, who were not needed to help with setting up took themselves off to the nearest coffee shop, and ordered their coffee. We followed some 15 minutes later, to find them still waiting for their drinks to be served. We ordered, and before ours came, the others received their coffees and had finished them whilst we still waited. Our drummer then arrived and ordered his coffee, and ours eventually arrived, and was consumed. The drummer gave up waiting, cancelled his order and got a refund, as before his had arrived at the table, it was time to scamper back to the Comma to start our first set. We must say, at this point, that the coffee was excellent, which is a compliment one could not extend to the service.

The bar of the Comma was filled with chairs of every description imaginable, arranged in higgledy-piggledy order and every one was accommodating a backside or two. Being 11.00am, the audience was one of mostly coffee drinkers, who had obtained theirs from the Comma itself, and the gig went off very well. We finished, and as it was noon, we decided to find somewhere for lunch, before taking in some of the other bands. A nice café was found on Mostyn St., and lunch ordered. Again, the service could only be described as woefully inadequate, even though the food itself was very good. It became very clear that the cafés had not anticipated the increased patronage engendered by the Festival, and were very short-staffed. It is quite probable, of course, that in such a small town, additional staff would not be readily available, and we should perhaps be a bit more sympathetic.

After lunch the band members decided to go their separate ways, and to meet again at the Bridge Hotel, where we were to play our second set at 7.00; for dinner there at 5.30; and a table was booked accordingly. We decided to walk to the New Northern Hotel to see one of the other bands, and bent our steps in that direction. Some local knowledge had been sought, and we were assured it was about a 20 minute walk. It was not many minutes before we came across a second-hand bookshop, a facility we find irresistible. In we went, to find it jam-packed with so many books that it made our head spin. So we left, but very soon came across another, which seemed to be more organised in the arrangement of shelving, and the books were nicely displayed. Now we need to say that some 50 years ago, we inherited a set of books by Charles Dickens, which was missing 5 volumes, and over the intervening years, we have made a point of popping into every second-hand book shop, in search of the missing books. A couple of years ago on a trip to England, we found one of them in a shop in Broadstairs, but were still missing four. No sooner had we stepped into the shop when the young man asked if he could assist in any way. We explained we were seeking missing volumes from a specific edition of Dickens, and referred to the 1937 edition by Hazell, Watson, …..when he immediately added “and Viney”. He then asked whether we were looking for the burgundy binding, or the blue. We could hardly believe our ears. Here, for the first time, was someone who seemed to know what they were talking about. We were very impressed, as he turned to his computer, and in no time at all, had found Barnaby Rudge, one of the missing books. Suffice to say at this stage, we ordered all four books, and now look forward to them arriving by post from England. There was service that could not have been bettered!

But to return to Castlemaine and the Festival. We continued on foot to the New Northern, to find it was a more up-market establishment than the Comma. The bar was rather elegant, and the jazz was being played in a proper auditorium, with neat rows of matching chairs; not at all like the mishmash, but more atmospheric, Comma. The band we saw was very good, and when it had finished its set, we returned to the main part of the town, to the Cumberland Hotel. This again was more up-market than the Comma, with a number of chairs at each of the circular tables in the large saloon. Clare Castle Jazz Band was playing, and there was a good atmosphere and vibrancy emanating from the crowd. By now it was time to find The Bridge, which, as it happened, was out of the main part of town, not far from the New Northern. Now here we found a really ‘pubby’ pub with loads of atmosphere. It was fortunate that we had reserved a table, as we had to elbow our way through the crowd to get to the bar for a drink and to order food. It was also fortunate that we had allowed plenty of time, because, like the other venues at which we had ordered consumables, the service was appalling! When the food did eventually arrive, it was very good, but was spoiled by having to gobble it down as quickly as we could, in order to get set up ready to play as soon as the previous band had finished.

The audience for this set was quite different from that in the Comma earlier in the day. For a start, it was now evening, and rather than drinking coffee and tea, they had been well into the beer and wine for quite a while before we arrived! It was an exciting audience, that showed its appreciation by loud cheers, accompanied by enthusiastic whooping and stamping of feet. Probably the most animated audience we had ever played to, and very rewarding.

We did not dwell long after finishing the set, as we had to return to Melbourne. But there was time to find one more café for a coffee before we left. The place we chose was opposite the IGA, on Hargraves St. It specialised in Japanese food during the day, and Thai in the evenings, (or perhaps the other way round). The coffee was excellent, and we are delighted to report that the excellence of the coffee was reflected in the excellence of the service. And following this coffee, we set off for the drive back to Melbourne.

Now you will probably have noticed that this sketch is somewhat deficient in that we have not given much of a description of the town itself. So, suffice to say that it is a delightful place, and we have now booked to return for a four-day stay during September, during which visit, we shall have more leisure time to explore the town in greater depth, rather than just rushing from one jazz venue to another. And we shall also take our camera next time. So, come the middle of September, be on the look-out for Sketches of Castlemaine Two.