There’s a map in the glove box marking a journey between the slopes of the Great Dividing Range and the Peel River, about 400 kilometres north of Sydney. No point in hurrying on the trail of an old tractor meandering through sheep, cattle and wheat country into the historic gold mining town of Nundle (population 300). Fire a cannon down the main street and you wouldn’t even hit a cockatoo, but there’s a low rumbling sound coming from the Nundle Woollen Mill, where doors are fl ung open inviting entry. If ever there was a moment to savour where you are, rather than where you’re going, this is it.
Nick Bradford is leaning against a huge bale of wool pulling at tufts of fleece. “I’ve always said Nundle’s greatest disadvantage is being 35km off the New England Highway and Nundle’s greatest advantage is being 35km off the New England Highway,” he chortles.
It’s an old gag from the proud owner of one of the last working woollen mills of its kind in Australia. This is the corrugated-iron shed where the finest Tasmanian Merino is spun into the best yarn in the country. There’s no other textile mill in the world known to be working commercially with century-old machines like these brilliantly engineered, mechanical marvels built to last.
