Hebel Hotel

With its rusty patch roof and heavily weathered timber walls, it would be all too easy to drive past the Hebel Hotel. The only attempt to persuade you to come inside is the small sign out the front, promising cold beer and hot pies. The sign itself is almost completely hidden by the half a dozen work utes lined up in front of the pub, a sign that it's the regulars that keep this business running. While from outside the building looks like it could fall at any second, as we (myself and Seb - my support crew) step inside, it's got a different feel to the scruffy exterior. A brief look around and you can tell these walls are tried and tested. A bit beaten up, but still strong, and are more likely to stand for another 100 years than fall anytime soon. I've been invited in for a drink by Charlie, the Pub manager. He stopped as he drove past me walking earlier in the day, offered me a lift, and then as I explained about the trip, insisted we come in once I'd finished my day.

As we wait for Charlie to appear, we get a few strange looks from the blokes sitting in the bar stools. There's 19 people living in Hebel and in a town of 19 people it's pretty easy to know who is and isn't from around here. Seb and I order a drink, as we pay I hear a murmur from the corner. "These must be the fellas... Na I reckon it is.. Saw a big board on the car... Yeah well, I'll ask" "Excuse me mate, you're the paddler. The um, the one doing the paddle thingy are ya?" A little part of me cringes as being recognized as 'The Paddler' as so far on this trip 'The Walker' would be more appropriate, but the bloke asking the question is eager to hear the story so we start talking. With myself doing the trip and Seb being from Germany, it's not long before the others at the bar join in the conversation and for the next hour or more we chat to half of Hebel. While trying to paddle a river with no water gives the others in the pub a laugh, our company is a group of farmers who's livelihood relies on water. There's a mix of opinions as to whose to blame; El nino, the Government water buy backs, or the irrigators who pump too much, but all agree that it's 'not been a great year'. You can tell there's an uncertainty and some tension in the room when water is mentioned, but fortunately there's always one who's able to bring the mood back up with the quip of "But it could be worse, I'm only trying to farm, not paddle on dust". By the time Charlie comes to join us, many have left and wished us luck. A nod and a handshake is plenty, but a few even surrender their final round and pass on a donation. Through Charlie and the others that remain we find out more about the area and those that live here. Like many country towns, these plenty of stories to be told and the time slips by quickly. It's another few hours later, when we finally head off. The row of work utes is now gone and that small sign is now easily visible in the moonlight. Along with it's rust, the Hebel Hotel has a certain charm that only a outback pub can offer. All too easy to drive by, but one of the best stops we've made so far.