We knew we were back in the country when we checked into the motel and the owner told us she’d turned the air conditioner on in our room, “just to take the chill off”.
I can’t imagine receiving that kind of thoughtful service in one of those multistorey, impersonal city motels, where you’re just another anonymous traveller passing through.
I’d forgotten what country life was like, until our recent visit to a small Riverina town for a family funeral.
The first reminder was the onset of hay fever from all that clean, fresh, unpolluted air. Happens every bloody time.
The night sky was just as I had remembered, a dazzling array of stars and satellites, undimmed by the usual city skyline.
The Illawarra is a friendly place but there is something truly special about country folk.
They knew we were strangers, but as soon as we mentioned we were in town for a funeral, they knew exactly whose funeral it was and we were welcomed like old friends.
Shops operating from beautifully restored buildings were well stocked with handmade relishes and jams, on sale next to knitted baby clothes and those useful hanging hand towels. The wide streets were clean and the gardens beautifully and proudly maintained.
Apart from a few pricey country manors, property prices appeared pretty reasonable but that may just have been in comparison to the Illawarra real estate market where everything is expensive.
When the husband’s earache flared up we visited the pharmacist for advice. She suggested a visit to the doctor might be wise. When we told her we didn’t have much time as we were in town for a funeral – “Ross’s funeral? Lovely man” – she rang the doctor and somehow managed to book the husband in for a consultation within an hour.
The “top pub” (that seemed to us to be at the bottom end of town, but there always has to be one top pub) had offered to host the wake – for free.
Obviously word got around town, because the publican was soon overwhelmed with the number of plates of (homemade) food dropped off at the bar. There was enough to feed a small army, or at least a small town.
Of course there are drawbacks to living in the country. Not everyone likes other people knowing their business – not everyone wants to be friendly.
There’s not a lot to do in the smaller towns, and what is there closes early.
Medical services can be difficult to access, especially specialist services, and when you can get an appointment it’s often in a larger centre which involves travel and sometimes accommodation.
It can be tough for teenagers who have to rely on mum and dad to get them around in the absence of regular, reliable public transport. What might be a 15-minute drop-off to the cinemas in Shellharbour could take an hour or so in the country.
Unfortunately, those same kids often have to leave town when they finish school to attend university or to find work. And once they discover what’s waiting out in the big wide world, they rarely come back to settle down.
Apart from snakes chasing mice in the roof and green frogs under the toilet seat, I enjoyed growing up in the country. It was comfortable, safe and laid-back.
But I was one of those kids who had to leave to find the work I wanted, as did my husband. After we met and married in Sydney, we couldn’t wait to get out of the city.
We couldn’t decide which of our country towns we wanted to settle in, so we ended up in Wollongong.
For us it was like a big country town, but with all the conveniences a city had to offer.
As much as I loved being back in the country for a few days, I’m too set in my ways – and too accustomed to the convenience of city life – to ever move back.
As I sit at my desk looking out at green paddocks and watching wrens play in the garden, I know we made the right decision.