I love my little town. But it’s disappearing fast

Only two business premises in our town survive, but it will soon be one – unless this column inspires a buyer.

The Gundy General Store, which will soon close.

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Gundy (pop. 165) is a tiny town in NSW’s Upper Hunter Valley, on the Pages River. Elmswood, our farm and our home for nearly 40 years, arcs around it. At the time of writing, only two business premises in town survive – three if you count a modest timber Anglican church with its even more modest congregation and a few toppling headstones.

Across the road there’s a popular pub with the funny name of the Linga Longa Inn, where a damp flag proudly droops on a pole (it’s been raining here for a biblical 40 days and 40 nights; we’ve been flooded in, on and off, for days). There’s also the Gundy General Store – with a phone booth and two fuel pumps by the door. And at the time of reading, the pub’s flag will be at half-mast. Because our store will soon be no more.

Inside the Gundy General Store.

There was a time when Gundy was much more. Such a picture-perfect country town that it has been used as a location for several famous films. But gradually its little row of shops disappeared, until the place looked like the flats of a movie set. (Gundy also once boasted a picturesque wooden bridge; it was swept away by a ginormous flood 20 years ago.) A Post Office sub-branch lingered longer. Then it, too, closed its doors.

When we came to Gundy, we found a charming cemetery with kangaroos hopping between the graves. And opposite, with a grim sense of humour, was the Gundy Tip. Alas, the tip is long since dead and buried.

Phillip Adams at his country estate in Gundy, in the NSW Hunter Valley. Picture: Max Mason-Hubers/The Australian

Cut to Muswellbrook’s ABC outpost. It’s 13 years ago, and I’m remotely hosting Late Night Live from a small studio shaken by the passing coal trains. I get the earth-shaking news that our Gundy Store is closing, its retiring owners having failed to find a purchaser, and I sadly let the listeners know. But talk about a last-minute reprieve: one of them takes action, and the next day buys the store.

Fast-forward to 2025, and history is repeating itself: yet again, the doors of the Gundy Store are closing. With no buyer in sight, the young owners are giving up. As they sadly explain, it’s a very tough time for a very small rural business.

In their case, it’s been a triple whammy.

First, a seemingly endless drought destroyed local farming, forcing many farmers to buy in hay and silage to save starving stock. I’ve rightly described drought as a bushfire in slow motion (though we’ve had our share of bushfires as well). Business, forgive the pun, dried up for the Gundy Store as a consequence. The whole district was on a hiding to nothing.

Second, when the drought finally broke, we all nearly drowned. The store muddled through, but then had to contend with the pandemic. Times became even more challenging. Lest, dear reader, we forget.

And finally, the cost-of-living crisis. Three strikes – and the Gundy Store owners are out.

This sequence of events also explains why there are so many shuttered shops in Scone, 20km away, even though it has a population of over 5000. These are harsh times, too harsh, for small businesses everywhere.

So it’s vale to our Gundy General Store. Unless this column, like my ABC broadcast 13 years ago, inspires a buyer.

Let me know if you’re interested.