They were dressed in period costume as they welcomed us and provided lunch in the old Tara School, now part of the Historical precinct.

One of their members, in her old-fashioned garb, became our courier, and we toured the small town of 1000 residents. As she said, it was hard going making an interesting tour of Tara.

We ascended the stairs of the old school as some four ladies and two gents welcomed us on the verandah. They were all dressed colonial style.

A keyboard of some sort was being played...all the old songs that I, for one, knew and loved. The pianist smiled winsomely, dark hair flying, gnarled fingers cleverly finding the keys. We looked at the handcrafted items for sale before sitting down at two long tables, where we were waited on for our meal.

A substantial plate of chicken and ham salad was served individually with bread and butter, followed by fruit salad and custard. Then tea or coffee, with a plate of home-cooked biscuits. We all tucked in, it being six hours or so since our early breakfast.

The music continued throughout our repast. Then Owen, 80, a retired police officer, one of our members, got up and sang in accompaniment. I couldn’t wait to join him. It was like the sing-songs of our youth, most enjoyable.

We looked over the rest of the museum, the old Cobb and Co coach among the rest of the rusted, worn machinery.

They lined up to wish us farewell, country smiles beaming. Only about six coaches visit each year, so we were important to they were to us.