Tag: Stanthorpe

  • The Big Apple, Thulimbah, Qld

    The Big Apple, Thulimbah, Queensland

    Apples are the core industry of Queensland’s famous Granite Belt region, so it’s no surprise there’s a really, really big one in the village of Thulimbah.

    At four metres tall and 4.5 metres wide, The Big Apple rises high over the renowned Vincenzo’s Café. A scrumptious Italian meal and a delicious red Big – what more could you ask for?

    The steel-and-fiberglass Big Apple was built in 1978 by local legend Johnny Ross. It was then erected by hometown hero Brian Wilmot outside a petrol station in the apple-ropriately-named hamlet of Applethorpe.

    Shockingly, it was originally painted a very a-peel-ing shade of green!

    Turnovers were impressive until, in 2003, the unthinkable happened. The servo was redeveloped and The Big Apple was thrown into storage. Maybe they should’ve changed the name of the town to No-Applethorpe.

    But The Big Apple wasn’t ready for the compost heap just yet. later that year it was painted up like a Royal Gala and transported to it’s current location beside the New England Highway.

    That’s juiced down the road from Stanthorpe and its Big Thermometer. Some folks argue about which is more iconic but honestly, that’s like comparing apples and, well, 10-metre-tall hunk of meteorological measuring equipment.

    She’ll Be Apples, Mate!

    Nestled in the shadows of tThe Big Apple, Vincenzo’s offers a sumptuous array of pizza, pasta and panini. But there was only one treat I wanted to scoff down after a long afternoon taking photos with Big Things: their genre-defining apple pie.

    When I swaggered in and ordered one, however, Bigella shot me a haphazard look.

    “Don’t you think that might upset you-know-who?” she whispered, before gazing with deference towards The Big Apple.

    “How insensitive of me,” I spluttered, before turning back to the well-presented counterperson. “I guess I’ll go with a succulent steak and pepper pie, then.”

    He nodded solemnly, but when he returned with the golden treat, I Ieaned in close.

    “Be a darl and pop a few of those freshly-baked apple pies in a paper bag for me,” I hissed surreptitiously, stealing a cautious glance towards Bigella. “You’d better double-bag it – I don’t want to upset you-know-who.”

    The meat pie, which I delicately pecked at in the comfy confines of the restaurant, was fluffy, crispy, and oh-so-delicious. And the apple pie, which I finally plucked up the courage to cram into my gob that night when I was sure Bigella was asleep, was simply devine.

    But don’t tell her I said that!

    An Apple a Day Keeps the Boredom Away

    Oversized orbs are applentiful across the wide, brown Land of the Bigs. There’s a fine example just down the road in Acacia Ridge – although I must warn you there are some rotten characters lurking around it!

    Head down to New South Wales to discover a bushel of big beauties, with Apples in Batlow, Darkes Forest, Tallong, and Yerrinbool. They’re the envy (that’s a breed of apple) of all the other states!

    Not wanting to be left out, Victoria boasts Big Apples in Bacchus Marsh and Gladysdale, with an ever-so-slightly-larger-than-average specimen in Somerville. Donnybrook, WA, has one, too. Even South Australia has a Big Apple in Balhannah.

    And who could forget the Apple Isle? Tassie has a Big Apple resting above a shop in the tranquil village Spreyton.

    You’ll have a tough time de-cider-ing which one to visit next!

  • Fruitisforus the Big Dinosaur, Ballandean, QLD

    Fruitisforus the Big Dinosaur, Ballandean, Queensland

    Crossing into Queensland is like stepping back in time – because there’s a giant triceratops just a few minutes from the NSW border!

    The bright green dinosaur is the pride of Ballandean, and is known to his fans as Fruitisforus (fruit-is-for-us). The fruit may, indeed, be for them – but ‘Fruity’ is their gift to the world.

    Fruity started life as a float for the 1998 Apple & Grape Harvest Festival in Stanthorpe (home of The Big Thermometer). He proved so popular that the locals placed him out the front of the railway station, to draw attention to the nearby fruit stands.

    Stop for the expertly-crafted dinosaur sculpture, stay for the ripe and juicy pomegranates.

    Quickly becoming Ballandean’s most popular resident, it was decided to make Fruity a permanent fixture of the town. He was slathered with fiberglass, painted bright green, and put back on display for generations to enjoy.

    Or at least until they get jura-sick of him – teehee!

    At 6.7 metres from tail to elegant nasal spike, Fruity’s about the same size as an actual triceratops. Some, unfortunately, say that disqualifies him from being a Big Thing.

    But I don’t see too many other three-horned thunder-lizards wandering around rural Queensland, so he counts!

    Are you feeling horny, baby??

    What killed the dinosaurs? It may very well have been a 1987 Toyota Camry – because that’s what almost drove Fruitisforus to extinction.

    One cold, windswept evening in January 2014, the good people of Ballandean were woken from their slumber by a thunderous thud.

    “I thought it was a car crash, I had only just gone to sleep and the noise woke me up,” local gal Pam Bates told a famished reporter from The Stanthorpe Border Post. “I thought it could have been some fool from the pub, but the pub was shut and there was no-one around.”

    Clutching a torch in one hand and her beloved husband Erwin in the other, Pam ventured out into the gloom, steeling herself for scenes of chaos and calamity.

    But she could not have expected, nor would she have wished to see, as much of the mad and macabre as they were to see that night.

    Fruity – kind, sweet Fruity – had been horrifically disfigured by a deranged hit-and-run driver.

    “Half of his face is ripped off,” Pam wept. “It is a shame because it is such an icon; everyone pulls up to take photos of their kids with it. I hope they are able to put his face back on.”

    Bigthusiasts were immediately reminded of another dinosaur who was toppled by a car – Grrrreta, in Fruita, Colorado. After this spate of anti-archosaurian attacks, Digby the Dinosaur now has a 24-hour security escort.

    Fortunately, Fruity soon received a facelift – and the artist knocked a few years off at the same time. Now he doesn’t look a day over 65 million years old!

    After a decade-long investigation involving state and federal police, it was determined that the brutal vehicular assault was an unfortunate accident.

    The good people of Ballandean, however, will never feel safe again.

    The Lizards of Oz

    For creatures that died out tens of millions of years ago, there sure are plenty of Big Dinosaurs around the place. Ploddy the Diplodocus in Somersby, NSW, is the oldest Big Thing of them all and a real dino-mite dame!

    Palmerston, in the Northern Territory, is home to Big Kev the Brachiosaurus. Now you know where to go for your ‘necks’ vacation!

    Lochie the Loch-Eel Monster is pretty much a dinosaur. He can be found haunting the shallow waters of Bumbunga Lake in South Australia. This handsome fellow sure is the eel deal!

    Queensland’s also home to The Big Kronosaurus in Richmond and The Big Dinosaur in Mackay. Then, of course, there’s Dino the Dinosaur in Noojee, Victoria. I haven’t written up those entries yet, so it’s a co-fossil waste of time to even mention them.

    But for the world’s largest dinosaur, you’ll have to jump on the next Ptrans Pterodactyl Airlines flight to Drumheller in Canada. There you’ll have a memorable encounter with Tyra, a 26.3m-tall Tyrannosaur with rawr-some smile.

    Oh me oh my, aren’t my dinosaur jokes pre-hysterical!

  • The Big Thermometer, Stanthorpe, QLD

    The Big Thermometer, Stanthorpe, Queensland, Australia

    Queensland’s coldest town is also home to the state’s hottest Big Thing – The Big Thermometer in beautiful Stanthorpe.

    Angular and baroque, with the temperature proudly displayed in bright neon at the top, this massive monument stands ten (thermo)metres high. For our American fans, that’s a (faren)height of 33 feet.

    Unveiled to a chilly, yet curious public on September 4, 2018, The Big Thermometer is the culmination of 20 years of blood, sweat and tears.

    After many heated arguments within the community, construction finally started in mid-2017. Local chaps Albert Piper and Peter Ingall selected and attached the intricate stone façade. By the way, do you think they needed a degree to help build this temperature reader?

    The Sunshine State isn’t known for its icy weather, but Stanny is one of the coldest places in Australia, with a record low temperature of -10.6 degrees – something the locals are freezed as punch about.

    “We’re the coldest town in Queensland and we’re really proud of it and we want to showcase it,” Chamber of Commerce vice-president Mick Spiller babbled.

    “Everyone likes to get a photo taken in front of something big and we’ve certainly got a quality structure there for people to do that – I think the word will spread very quickly.”

    The Big Thermometer takes pride of place in the tranquil Rotary Park, next to the duck-filled Quart Pot Creek and just up from the Visitor Centre. They’ll always give you warm welcome!

    The Big Thermometer’s put Stanthorpe on the map – that’s for tempera-sure!

    Revenge is a dish best served… cold!

    Relations have long been frosty between the people of Stanthorpe and those of nearby Applethorpe, with both claiming to live in Queensland’s chilliest town.

    For decades, Applethorpers had bragging rights, as the Bureau of Meteorology plucked their readings from a fancy weather machine set up in their hamlet.

    Temperatures in Stanthorpe, on the other hand, were manually recorded and submitted to the BOM by rugged-up volunteers at 9am each day, so their arctic dawns never made the morning news.

    Then, in 1978 Applethorpe built the core-geous Big Apple – a true magnet for tourists – leaving the good folks of Stanthorpe even further out in the cold.

    And thus, the true brilliance of The Big Thermometer becomes apparent. Not only does its size and beauty draw visitors in their thousands, but there’s an even fancier weather machine hidden within its blocky bowels.

    Now both towns have Big Things. Both towns have wizz-bang weather-reading machines – and the rivalry is hotter than ever.

    It’s gettin’ hot in Stanny, so take off all your clothes
    I am gettin’ so hot, I wanna take my clothes off!

    When my pluviophilic pal, Gordon, and myself arrived in Stanthorpe, it wasn’t cold at all. It was, in fact a balmy 32.2 degrees – hot enough to melt the horns off Ballandean’s nearby Big Dinosaur!

    “If I’d checked the fur-cast,” Gordon wheezed as we climbed out of the Bigsmobile, “I would’ve shaved my body hair off beforehand.”
    “Weather or not you’re cold or hot…”
    “I know, I know, I need to keep a sunny disposition.”
    “You Mercu-really do,” I chuckled.

    We sat down beneath the branches of a sprawling tree, and watched a parrot land on the crown of the Thermometer. I thought, briefly, of a similar thermometer I’d visited in California, then glanced at Gordon.

    “It really is an ice Big Thing.”
    “You need to sleet it to believe it!”
    “All hail this roadside attraction.”
    “It’s quite cloud-standing.”
    “Worth stopping for – don’t just look at it through the wind-ow as you drive past.”
    “It’s snow wonder the locals are so proud of their Thermometer.”
    “Although they can be a bit vane about it.”

    “Gordon,” I said gently, taking my chum by the hand. “I hate to rain on your parade, but I need to save some weather-related puns for my entry on The World’s Biggest Thermometer in Baker, California. Now let’s get some photos.”

    “No worries, Bigs, but just remember,” Gordon grinned, holding up a single finger. “No matter how tempting The Big Thermometer looks, please don’t try to climate!