Two days in Toodyay WA is enough to get a feel for this historic WA town – but I could have stayed longer. Here’s what to do in Toodyay, where to stay in Toodyay and where to have a drink or a meal in Toodyay… plus the connection between Toodyay town and Moondyne Joe
What’s in a name?
Surely not, responded my sister in England when I texted her that I was walking around a town called Toodyay. Toodyay may be a funny name, sure. But what about Bishop’s Ichington in Warwickshire, Great Snoring in Fakenham, Norfolk, Wetwang near Uncleby in Yorkshire, or Nether Wallop in Hampshire?
In fact, it is derived from the Noongar Aboriginal word Duidgee, meaning “place of plenty”, referring in part to the reliability of the Avon River on whose banks it sits.
It’s only been Toodyay since 1910; before that, it was the township of Newcastle, established in 1836, making it one of WA’s oldest towns. Why it was ever Newcastle is a mystery; in fact, various miners lured by the name came here in the early days, only to disappointedly find a purely agricultural community.
Why visit Toodyay?
Toodyay had been on Roy’s and my agenda since our first trip to the nearby town of York, equally historical, somewhat bigger and probably better known.That was exactly a year ago – to the day, 13-15 October! – no doubt scheduled then (as now) to avoid school holidays and weekend day-trippers.
I first heard of Toodyay when granddaughter Mia sang me a song she’d learnt at school about Moondyne Joe (Joseph Bolito Johns) – an English convict who arrived Fremantle on the Pyrenees in 1853.
It was obvious what the song’s attraction was to redhead Mia: “You may be the boss my friend, but you’re not the boss of me; all men want to be free.”
Moondyne Joe’s story is a long and complicated tale of petty thievery, some bad luck and a string of daring escapes from custody. Toodyay was where he was arrested for the first time in WA. Moondyne is the Aboriginal word for the then-inhospitable valley of the Avon River.
Gidgegannup, en route to Toodyay
If Toodyay sounds quirky, what say you to Gidgegannup, Dale? It’s a two-hour drive from central Perth to Toodyay, but only 90 minutes from our home in the northern coastal suburb of Iluka, Joondalup. We got to Gidgegannup – or Gidge – around coffee-time. For Roy, it’s mostly coffee-time, so that wasn’t difficult.
Gidgegannup Bakery & Café had both indoor seating and outdoor seating under shady trees. It serves good coffee and a variety of yummy cakes and pastries. My only sorrow was having so narrowly missed the annual Gidge Show, slated for 30 October.
For good measure, we stopped in again for another coffee (and this time a quivering custard tart for me) on the way back to Perth. This is a serious bakery – it even offers apprenticeships!
Toodyay Town
It’s a nice little town, with plenty to occupy the visitor for a couple of days – or more, for those of the trail-hiking, bird-spotting and flower-hunting persuasion. Now at the tail-end of the spring wildflower season (August to November), we may have missed the best of the natural floral show. (But we also happily evaded two weeks of school holidays and the miserable wintry weather that’s plagued WA this year.)
In fact, our timing was perfect. It got steadily warmer; on the Friday we left, the mercury was expected to rise to 30 degrees Centigrade.
Toodyay Walks
A helpful staff member at Toodyay Visitor Centre gave me some useful pointers on the day we arrived. Late that afternoon, I headed from our hotel up Duke Street, across the pedestrian bridge and up the hill to Pelham Reserve and the Lookout.
Darkness was falling, so I resolved to come back the next day to find the promised everlastings. They grow extensively (and of course everlastingly) in an area that starts about 600 metres from the Lookout parking. I first noticed that the many anthills seemed to be sparkling. Then I saw the same sparkle in the soil itself, which was littered with quartz-like rocks.
Next morning, I headed through Newcastle Park and crossed the pedestrian bridge to the other side of the Avon River. From there, it was easy to access the river bank. I followed the river until a tributary blocked my path. There is a recommended 6.5km walk – but it would be sensible to consult a map to find out which side of the river is better, and where to join the path.
Toodyay Museums
A half-hour loop known as the Toodyay Convict Depot Walk – “Step into convict-era Toodyay!” – starts from the Visitor Centre. To my mild surprise, Roy raised no objection to this enterprise, though it involved both walking and museums.
You cross the railway line, then stroll up through a pretty little Anzac memorial park to the Newcastle Gaol Museum ($6 per person). Across the road is the Police Stables, included in your ticket.
Connor’s Mill, located on Stirling Terrace and entered through the Visitor Centre, is another museum worth popping into. (And a bargain at $5.) It was built in 1870 for a convict from Ireland, who eventually became known as the Newcastle King because of how much property he owned here (Newcastle was the town’s original name) – including the Freemasons Hotel.
After serving as a flour mill (1870-1917), it became the town’s power station until 1955 and then stood deserted for 20 years. In 2000, after extensive restoration and redevelopment, it opened as a museum. There’s a massive engine on the ground floor, and stairs leading to first and second floors featuring various flour-milling equipment. The engine and several other machines hum along all day, and it’s quite impressive.
Stirling Terrace
Toodyay Bakery sits on the sunny side of the street, a good thing on such a crisp spring morning, and produces some delicious-looking artisanal sourdough loaves. I had a beef pie; this is Australia, the land of pies. (What are you, the pie police?) It’s the downstairs part of Unwin’s Store (c. 1899).
Ellery’s Arcade
Next door is Ellery’s Arcade (c.1890), home to an eclectic collection of little shops. I was lured in by something called Fire Cider in the window of Butlers Essentials (sadly, Australia seems to have given up entirely on the apostrophe). Handmade at the back of the shop by the apothecary, this product contains apple cider vinegar (ACV) infused with over 20 immunity-boosting and metabolism-stimulating ingredients. That, along with a brilliantly enthusiastic front-of-shop saleslady, meant I had to buy a bottle of the stuff. (Indeed, I was lucky to escape with no further damage to the debit card.)
Christmas in October
Jager Stores, at one stage of its history the Manchester Unity Independent Order of Oddfellows Hall (probably the Masons in yet another guise), is today famous for being Christmas 360, a massive Christmas shop. It seems to have been going for the past six years or so, though, as recently as 2013, Jager Stores was home to markets, a newsagency and a draper’s shop.
We hear that Christmas 360 closes just before Christmas, and when it reopens in April the shoppers are, bizarrely, already lined up and clamouring at the door.
Toodyay Architecture
Originally Newcastle Post Office, this charming PO was built in 1897.
The Old Fire Station, typical of the Art Deco era, was built in 1938.
Toodyay Public Library dates back to 1874.
Toodyay Memorial Hall consists of two halls – the original, The Foyer, was built in 1899, and a bigger hall is located behind it.
Home of The Toodyay Herald – a fine little monthly newspaper that could teach WA’s daily rag, the West Australian (or Worst Australian) a thing or two about decent reporting.
Built in 1870, Butterfly House was Toodyay’s first bank. Behind it is a secluded neighbourhood of historic cottages.
Toodyay’s Cola Café Museum must be a winner with families, but less so with mid-week trippers like us. I preferred to watch the passing parade from the venerable red verandah of the Freemasons Hotel, located directly across the road.
Its dining room looked auspicious, too, but we opted for curries (one goat, the other vegetable korma) across the road at the Spice & Grill. Located in what used to be a “gentleman’s club”, it’s not exactly an Indian restaurant, but the curries were authentic enough – and the buttered naan was memorable. We dined on the front terrace, but could have chosen the charmingly faded inner dining room.
Review: Victoria Hotel, Toodyay
Historically just an alcohol store (or bottle-o), guest rooms were added in 1875 and the Victoria Hotel’s upper storey added in 1904. Adjoining it is the quaint Billiards Saloon, which may predate the main structure, and is today the bottle-o.
The Vic was recently restored/renovated and refurbished, now offering a lovely big terrace at the rear, looking out on to the green hills that rise from the opposite bank of the Avon River. On our first night, we had jolly good lamb shanks ($38) in the hotel restaurant; and I was impressed with the quality of the veggies that came instead of mash for my carb-shy husband. (Yes, he’s wasting away, but that’s how he likes it.)
Our king-sized executive room ($175 per night) in a new motel-style complex at the back of the refurbished Victoria Hotel, had everything we needed. (Except a bath for me; I love a bath.)
With good-quality furnishings including a really comfortable bed, a well-equipped kitchenette, comfortable seating, good occasional lighting and an excellent shower-room, the Vic also provides nice toiletries, daily cleaning (not a given in places like these), mineral water and so on.
It’s not open for breakfast – the public space only opens at 11am – but the town offers plenty of alternatives. (From Wednesday, anyway; I wouldn’t expect anything on a Monday or a Tuesday, when everything is shut.) Just down the road is Wendouree Tearoom, which under various names has been serving refreshments to the public since 1870.
Review: Wendouree Tearooms
No doubt flour produced at Connor’s Mill made its way up Stirling Terrace to both Toodyay Bakery, and Wendouree Tea Rooms. Modern sources say that Wendouree Tearooms was established in the 1930s and is the oldest of WA’s tea rooms.
In fact, it is believed (by the benighted Wiki) that Daniel Connor (he of Connor’s Mill) built a shop and a house on this site in the late 1860s; and that the premises have offered hospitality and services since around 1870 – despite going through several name changes over the years. In 1900 it was Whitfields’ Produce Store; by 1903 it was already described as a baker’s and confectioner’s; tearooms were added in the 1920s; and today it’s still a lovely bakery and café.
It’s the kind of place where you order poached eggs on toast, and they bring you complimentary avo and grilled tomato without even asking.
That never happens in the city – and it’s just one of the reasons it’s good to get away to WA’s friendly, picturesque and laid-back country towns.
