In the six years since I last came here, the captains of industry have
swung by with a bit of architecture. Yering Station is no longer
just a winery, it’s sprouted a euro-hopeful performance area with associated
wine bar, all glass and stone and wood. A “historic barn” sits amongst
concrete pathways and young trees but I think it’s just for show, there’s no
sign you could go in. After all, what would we look at? An old Tiger Moth
aircraft buzzes overhead. “It looks like a butterfly,” my friend says,
unprompted.