The Young and the Restless
The Young and The Restless | Different scenery just down the road
It’s a shorter drive there, yet Deniliquin feels further away than Melbourne.
Maybe it’s because we’re not as familiar with the road, having taken that direction at a ratio of maybe one to 50 as we have down south.
Or maybe it’s because after only 40 minutes on the road and only getting as far as Barmah, it feels like you’re in the outback.
And maybe that’s because the roads are lined with the carcasses of dead kangaroos every kilometre or so, or the dirt changes in colour to a rich red.
The traffic becomes more sparse and when you do encounter another vehicle, it’s usually a 4x4 or an older and lower two-door Holden ute covered in javelin-length aerials, flying Aussie and Southern Cross flags, with RM Williams and Caterpillar stickers plastered across its back window and a bull bar on the front so big an elephant might rebound off it.
When we returned to Deni on the weekend for the first time in more than 10 years, I didn’t point out my observations to the kids; they noticed themselves.
I love that just by getting in the car and setting out for a day trip, we can access such different scenery “just down the road”.
It takes an hour and a half to drive to Deni, a three-hour driving lesson in a round trip if you have a learner driver to take the wheel.
I’d spent a good part of my Sunday putting groceries away, cleaning bathrooms and vacuuming, so we didn’t get away until mid-morning but cruised in to the Cruizin* Diner right at lunchtime.
It’s a 1950s-themed diner furnished with vinyl booths and chrome-edge tables and decorated with neon signs and memorabilia from the era.
We ate burgers and drank milkshakes while Bobby Darin and The Everly Brothers, among other voices, retrospectively serenaded us through the diner’s sound system.
Once our tummies were satisfied, we crossed the petrol station that sits between the diner and The Depot to check out the latter’s extensive collection of motoring history.
The Depot is Deni’s answer to our MOVE.
It’s not quite as big, but it’s also a hugely impressive historic motoring museum showcasing a unique collection of vehicles and memorabilia that tell stories of home life and life on the road in Deniliquin in times gone by.
The Cruizin* Diner and The Depot (and the servo) are owned by the same people, I believe, and the diner’s old-school Hollywood theme carries through to sections of the museum with an Elvis collection and other statues, such as Marilyn Monroe placed near cars the same vintage.
A stunning Golden Fleece display, a funky Back to the Future installation incorporating a DeLorean as its centrepiece, vintage buses you can sit in, sparkling restored rescue vehicles, big ol’ gangsta mobiles, American muscle, historic Holdens — they’re all there to discover under The Depot’s roof.
Nostalgia is further stimulated by a vintage toy collection and displays of old ‘rooms’, such as lounge rooms and kitchens styled fully with contraptions and implements from another time.
Think box TVs sans those modern-day remote thingamabobs, wooden concertina clotheshorses, vintage biscuit and cake tins, coffee tables with inbuilt ashtrays, sets of flying duck ornaments fixed to the wall next to the floral curtains.
It’s all been carefully curated and it’s a delightful walk down memory lane (even further back than my memory exists, of course — the ’50s were still a few decades before I was born!).
After a couple of purchases in the well-stocked gift shop jam-packed with collectibles, rarities, quirky pieces and The Depot-branded merch, we started to make our way home before prime kangaroo movement o’clock.
We went via the Deniliquin Regional Airport because, of course, with a little aviation nut in the family, no trip anywhere is complete without a visit to its airport, aerodrome, airstrip or helipad if one exists in the vicinity.
As with anywhere we visit, we were reminded of how small the world is when the only plane departing during our visit, was one that had flown there from Shepparton.
A man pulled up in a ute alongside us while my son was filming the take-off and told us he’d just dropped the pilot back there after he’d flown to Deni to have lunch with him (also at the Cruizin* Diner — the world shrinks further).
He then invited us to tour his hangar, where he let my son climb into the cockpit of his Cessna 150 while imparting loads of knowledge about aircraft and learning to fly.
The butterfly effect was in full force that day.
We had one last stop on our way home, in Mathoura, to view the town’s bra fence and consider the true essence of what is an amusing spectacle at first glance, but has a deeper and sadder story behind it.
The fence is a memorial to community members lost by cancer, a symbol of support to those battling cancer and an advertisement to inspire donations to help them.
There are so many bras attached to the fence counting them would be nearly impossible.
So while Deni is a shorter drive from home than the Big Smoke is, it’s rich in visual entertainment when you get there but also on the journey to and from.
A more than suitable destination for a Sunday drive(ing lesson).