The room, with new en-suite, was quiet and attractive with French windows to the veranda. It also had, among genuinely period furniture, a comfortably matching bed which was decidedly new with a five star rating mattress."

"Mt Ophir was the creation of a London wine merchant 100 years ago who wanted his own centre of the world wine trade. It was a substantial wine exporter until 1955, when it ceased to function as a winery because of rising British tariffs and ‘changing tastes’. It fell into ruin, Ruth Penhall is restoring and running it with the aid of WWOOFers (Willing Workers on Organic Farms, an organisation that enables people to find places on farms free board and life experience in exchange for work (WWOOF Australia is run by Lionel Pollard of Buchan, Victoria). Around the place when we were there were women from Cincinatti and Edinburgh and two young wine students from Hungary.

We saw the emu hatchery and nursery, the adult emu and elk paddocks. On a quiet side road we found superb parrots nesting. We didn’t get to see Ruth’s gold mine, which she says is 20 ft from a gold vein in the quartz rock.

Dinner was in the kitchen. We stood and sat at the bench first with cheeses, raw vegies, and emu barbecue, plus wholemeal, soy, linseed and roiled oats bread fresh from the oven. After a swift lecture on bread-making and with a fresh loaf into the oven, Ruth was out the kitchen door.

By the time I caught up she was half way through a difficult piece of Bach on the grand piano in the sitting room.

After a bite of Mozart Sonata, she was out the door to check on the bread and the array of other things in the oven, before coming back for another dash of Mozart. This was followed by her own variation on a hymn. All her work seemed original.

Dinner was delicious. It blurs in the memory ~ intoxication without alcohol! I recall a country healthy soup, main course of chicken roulade and wonderful vegetables, from the simple fresh to roasted olive oily capsicum and eggplant. The dessert obviously home preserved, came straight from the Vacola jars - delicious firm slices of pear and fig. Coffee or nettle tea followed, with optional opportunity to help sift the sticks out of the season’s supply of dried nettle being sorted from the dryer into a tin. Ruth just didn’t have enough to do during dinner, what with maintaining the social interaction at two tables, finding the emu oil for the guest with the sprained wrist, and providing a meal for ten guests and two of the household.

The young lady from Edinburgh and the two young Hungarians came back from the Rutherglen Wine Festival towards the end of our own private festival. The ‘one week old’ English of the smiling Hungarians made for a diverse conversation. Ruth’s smiling face comes thought the door; "Hello, did you have a good evening?" After the ‘hello’ the smile widened and she came in the door. On ‘good evening’ he went all disconcerted formal, bowed, and said "Good evening" and started to back out the door! "No, no, wait, what wine did you like?" (accompanied by appropriate sign language). Finally, the light of understanding was in his eyes: "This" he said, beaming, pointing to his own gift bottle of Hungarian Tokay on the kitchen dresser.

Slightly removed from the planet, we really enjoyed the spring sunrise straight into the bedroom through the French doors.

Breakfast was at 9.30 in the dining room… as the kitchen was full of the family who had been staying for bed and breakfast in the ‘Gate House’. Slices of fresh fruit, cereal, juice, croissants fresh from the oven, omelette with vast amounts of bacon and fresh coffee.

Fed to the gills, we were on the road at 10.45 am.

Ten days later a letter arrives from Mt Ophir. Ruth had written to provide the name of a doctor in Sydney who had a very good reputation dealing with my kind of health problem. This was beyond the normal range of hospitality.