Woolgoolga

I flew north to Coffs Harbour and drove northeast until I reached banana republic of Woolgoolga.

 A blazing white Sikh Temple astride the highway welcomes the curious traveller to a curry flavoured seaside utopia.



There is a lot to like about this town; it has something for the crate digger, a festival of curry, a gymnasium with a dungeon, a decent surf break and a couple of solitary islands plopped in the ocean locked in a permanent staring competition; two ships adrift that will never meet.

The job was a sweet one: roughing it in the Solitary Islands Lodge, working 9 to 3 for the man with only enough time to surf twice a day. Luckily there was the excellent White Salt Seafood shop run by Max and his extremely hot Brazilian girlfriend.

"All Sikhs are Singhs, but not every Singh is a Sikh"



I made some Sikh friends, who were happy to satisfy my curiosity about their presence in the small coastal community. According to my Punjabi pals, in WW2 labour shortages allowed the Sikh community to work and invest in agriculture in the region, and they found the region similar to their homelands.  With a knowing head wobble they asked rhetorically “why wouldn’t someone want to live here?” I had to agree. I did wonder though, how the Sikhs fared during Australia’s proudly progressive White Australia Policy. It would have been less appealing to be a ethnic minority in a small town in outback NSW back then. 

"Recognise All Human Beings as Equal"

Before all this migration began the Woolgoolga area was home to the Gumbaingirr People who fished and foraged this fertile land, and whose descendants I stood with as they discussed Men’s business and the location of their Dreaming places under the thin canopy on the fringes of Dirty Creek. The great privilege of this job is to see strong and knowledgeable Aboriginal people proud of their ancient heritage and actively involved in the development and management of their country.

I arose early one morning and headed to the Woolgoolga Health club.  Upstairs is the cross training room where a whiteboard lists feats of incredible strength by gym members, such as the fearsome sounding Laura, who can dead lift 160kg.  Downstairs there is the Dungeon.  A Krauft Raum with no frills, just a room made for men who like throwing tin.

Woolgoolga was winning even before I discovered Magpie Books. A serious stock of quality vinyl. 180 grams of Smashing Pumpkins, Metallica, Tool and Hot Chip are now mine. There is even a small section in the local rag devoted to the joys of crate digging, reviewing rare or forgotten records.

Crate Digging Gold Strike! The official Flash Gordon soundtrack. I can't believe I didn't  own this already!  So many sweet 70s space sounds and camp dialogue. Queen is king, I wish Curtis Mayfield had got it wrong and Freddy wasn't dead. 

When I was giving my vinyl the first spins I found a warp in The Warning.  Andy at Magpie instantly offered a refund, and then this advice: "you could try the glass-in-the-sun trick for the Hot Chip album if you were desperate - i.e. sandwich the record between two sheets of glass, clamp them together by some means and put it out in the sun. You can put it in the oven at a low heat (say, 80-90 degrees) also, but you have to watch it closely and you'll need some heat resistant glass for this. This will reset the "vinyl memory". I've had success with this method in the past, it's not perfect but it will get the record flat enough to play ok. Just a suggestion."

So impressed am I by Woolgoolga that it is now the benchmark for Australian towns. Henceforth, I will rate towns based on: availability of vinyl, gyms, excellent food, cultural attractions and ethnic diversity. 

Woolgoolga - 5 out of 5 Shovels.