The Mundaring Weir Hotel

The Mundaring Weir Hotel

After our visit to Mundaring Weir, Wendy and I also recalled her Dad telling me about the Mundaring Weir Hotel, where he and his friends had stopped off for some refreshment; fairly basic at that time, it was run by an older gentleman who, upon hearing the English accents at the bar, said: 

"Oh, you're from England! You must meet the wife... she's a POM! (Prisoner of Mother England - referring to the time when felons and other so-called "undesirable" citizens in England had been sentenced to deportation to Australia!) and he called out, "Come and meet some of your fellow countrymen!"

A minute or two later, a dear old lady came in to the bar, greeting them with a very pronounced Australian accent: 

"I came out to Australia when I was a baby of 6 months... but I'll always be a POM to him!"

She remembered nothing of England! but Wendy and I remembered the story her Dad had told us, so when we took the opportunity to revisit Mundaring Weir, we also found the Mundaring Weir Hotel.

A trifle more elegant now, perhaps, than back in the 1960s, it was good to see it; and maybe the ghosts of people who have been there before us, and who had all those conversations, are still there, and pleased to be remembered: Forever relevant to modern times. 

The sign to Mundaring Weir Hotel

Look carefully, and spot the birdie!

Well, now I've enlarged the picture a bit - is that better now?

Pipeline to Kalgoorlie

And now, a little digression about the origin of the word "POM," used to describe people coming to Australia from England:

I had always thought POM - or POMMIE - was a shorthand way of describing former felons sentenced to deportation from England to Australia; it was considered a slur. 

In the 1800's, men and women faced severe penalties for what we may now consider fairly trifling misdemeanours, and could be sentenced for deportation lasting 7 years - or for life. Poor people who were starving might steal a loaf of bread and, if caught, no account was taken of their dire circumstances: the stocks, prison, or deportation was the order of the day. 

A sign on the Town Bridge over the River Stour in Sturminster Newton in Dorset threateningly proclaims: 

"Any person wilfully injuring any part of this COUNTY BRIDGE will be guilty of FELONY and upon conviction liable to be TRANSPORTED FOR LIFE. By the Court  T FOOKS"

Well, I suppose no-could say they weren't warned!

In hindsight, such a sentence might be considered a "light" punishment, as execution faced those having committed more serious crimes, for example stealing a sheep. From this era comes the expression, "You may as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb:" If you are going to face the death penalty, at least go for a bigger animal, rather than a smaller one! 

A less violent explanation comes from an idea that people fresh out from England disembarked from the ships looking pale and pasty-faced. They then faced the hot Australian sun and high ultra-violet rays, and soon turned a bright shade of red - there were no Factor 50 sun-protection creams available in those days! - and resembled fully ripe, red pomegranates. 

Pomegranates could be loosely rhymed with "immigrants," which was further rhymed with "Jimmy Grants," and used to describe the new citizens of Australia. Pomegranates were then shorted to "POMS," and there you have another, more palatable, idea about the origin of the word POM. Take your pick! and if anyone has more ideas, I would love to hear about them. 

Driving back to Perth in the dusk

After spending an hour or so at the Mundaring Weir Hotel, and having had a little walk in the area around it, marvelling at the length of pipeline exposed at the start of its journey to Kalgoorlie, and disappearing into the distance, we left the Hotel and drove back to Perth. We had already checked out of the Metro Blu Apartment earlier in the morning; it had been lovely to make full use of the extra hours available before we had to check in for our flight to Singapore. This was a good day!