There was something magical about the ropeway. A continuous stream of buckets gliding across the landscape, sliding against those imperial towers, over rugged hills, atop deep gullies, above sheep grazing in paddocks or a plough turning the soil.
It was a familiar scene: a rough dirt road, dry creek bed, scrubby bushland. I saw no evidence of cultivation or construction, just shadows, silence, rustlings. But overwhelmingly I felt a sense of connection. I belonged there. I had sprung from this spot.
This is the story of a gutsy, red-headed, seventeen-year-old, Sarah Bellamy
What could be more mood-altering than a dance hall that suggested a glittering French palace.
It might surprise you to learn that TSRs are part of Kandos history.
In 1934 Lue had a pub, school, railway station, baker, butcher, one church, another store and fewer than twenty scattered houses.