Home again

Well, there is our trip.  We missed Victoria, Australian Capital Territory and Tasmania altogether, but we passed through five other states and territories. Days away - 121.  Total KMs travelled?  About 23,000. That’s an average of 190 kilometres per day.

We went to bed last night with heavy rain drumming on our roof.  This disguised the sound of the big rigs pulling in and out at our rest stop.  I looked out at about 10pm and there were four large trucks lined up around our van! Earlier in the evening the place was deserted, so it was a bit of a surprise.

I can remember the first night we pulled into a road side stop, before we reached the three ways north of Tennant Creek.  We were a bit nervous and unsure if we would be ok.  But it was lots of fun, an adventure, and we have spent more time at rest stops than not the last month.  The shower at the free camp last night was a bonus!

Packing up for the last time it was quite funny.  Jo and Dom were getting very cross with us for not getting up and getting going. This was a complete reversal from the rest of the trip.

We pulled out onto the Moonie Highway, which runs East/West between St. George and Dalby.  This road started out as a dirt track many years ago running beside Moonie Creek.  A bigger, gravel road replaced the original track by 1953, and parts of it went through private properties.  There were 52 gates to stop at, open and then close along the way. The discovery of oil in Moonie in 1961 accelerated the upgrade and sealing of the road for traffic to the oil field by the 1970s.  It was a very comfortable road to travel on today.

We continued our reading of 'A Fortunate Life', trying to get done before we arrived home.

On the way into Dalby there were fields and fields of barley (it looked like sweet corn leaves with a grain head that was red - not sure what it was) and other crops.  It is so green and crowded with trees and bushes.  Very different from where we've come from.

We stopped near Anzac park in Dalby, by the banks of Myall Creek which runs through Dalby, and had an early lunch.  Although it is warm, it is nowhere near as hot as it was yesterday in Cunnamulla.

Back into the car again for our final leg.  Cooper slept through the drive into Toowoomba, the drive down the range, the stop at the big orange for fruit and vegetables, in fact, he only woke up when we pulled up in front of our house and everyone began to leap wildly from the car.  After that he didn't stop for the rest of the afternoon and evening, pulling out toys and generally adding to the chaos that is our house.

Everything is as we remember it, it's hard to believe we've been away for four months.  We have made a big dent in unpacking, but there is still a way to go.  And some serious haircuts to be had.  Oh the joy.

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Vicki

Speeding Home

Mosquito central.  Thousands of angry,  buzzing monsters maintained an unrelenting barrage on our fly screens the whole night.  Grant and I took it in turns to kill mosquitoes the whole time.  It was hot, and everyone was restless.  Bourke in flood is not a very inviting place!  It would have to be one of our record times for pack up and departure.  We just left.

We drove to the old wharf, where steamers were loaded with wool and later cotton and wheat and citrus fruits.  In it's heyday in the 1890s they loaded 40,000 bales of wool here a year, to be shipped down to ports in South Australia for further distribution to Adelaide and Melbourne.

The steamers used up a lot of the trees on the banks of the Darling River to fire their engines.  They also removed a lot of the fallen trees in the river, snags, which were breeding grounds and feeding grounds for fish.

We passed by the old lift bridge, opened in 1883, the gateway to the Never Never, that was used until 1997 to head off into the outback.  It is the last surviving bridge of it's kind in New South Wales. (The IEAust had a plaque acknowledging the work on this bridge as providing a foundation for other designs - Grant)

 

 

A right turn took us onto the road to Cunnamulla.  We were going to go via Lightning Ridge, however the road that direction is closed due to flooding.  We get to go an extra 150km.

Near the bridge I saw a boy holding what I thought was a cat.  Coming closer I revised that to a rat, but then I realized it was a kangaroo.  He's had it for a week, and when I asked if they'd rescued it off the road, the mum gave me a funny look and said it had come off their property.  "Did the mum die?" I asked.
"yep, we shot her."

The kangaroos eat the food that the cattle need to survive so they are a bit of a pest.  Bit of a shock though.

Further north and the excitement mounted as we passed Barringun and reached the border to Queensland. we stopped just across the invisible line to let all the mosquitoes out of the caravan and wash the breakfast dishes. We thought we were far away enough from the source of our mosquito infestation.  There were hundreds just caught in between the windows and the flyscreens.

On up the Mitchell Highway we came to Cunnamulla, a lovely town with flowers planted down the centre of the street, and a big statue of the Cunnamulla Fella, a song sung by Slim Dusty. 

We bought some dodgy supplies from the coffee shop for lunch, but had to throw a bit of it out... hopefully we all have cast iron stomachs.  We'd found a nice little playground with table and chairs and shade cover, but it was so hot we just got back in the car and kept driving.

The roads on the Queensland side of the border are narrower with some steep edges.  It can be a tight fit to pass a semi trailer coming the other way.  It is very green everywhere.  Long green grass thick along the sides of the road, and big trees and bushes everywhere.  They had a lot of rain over Christmas, I think.  We've crossed a number of bridges where the river or creek is full right up to the top of the banks.  At first you don't realise it's water - it just looks like a flat grassy green plain.    It's what I would imagine a billabong to be.  Surrounded by bent trees shading the quiet water and long grass.

We drove through a cloud of dragonflies.  Grant had a moment when he thought they were giant mosquitoes.  Last night was fairly traumatic.  (that was a joke!)

East at Cunnamulla onto the Balonne Highway, and 292 kilometres later we came to St George.  Grant's Grandmother was born in St. George.  It was a bustling town, even at 4pm on a Sunday afternoon, and we filled up with petrol and bought some bread and milk.  At the corner store we found some ice blocks.  It is so hot!  We're going to keep driving a bit more until it cools down.

After St. George we took the Moonie Highway which goes to Dalby.  We are camped in Westmar, 117km east of St. George, opposite the Pub. (It is on the Moonie Highway and derives its name from WESTern and MARanoa - Grant)  There is a flushing loo and hot shower at this free camping spot!  Luxury.  There are still mosquitoes, but not the swarms of last night. We went across to the pub and bought a bag of ice, the first on the trip.  We just needed something cold to drink.  The water coming out of our tap is hot.

This is going to be our last night in the van.  we are only about 400 km from home and should get there tomorrow afternoon.  We have spent 121 nights in the van and averaged about $28 per night.

It's funny that such a long trip ends so quickly.  All of a sudden it's our last night.  A storm has come in this evening, bringing a cool breeze and gentle rain.  There is thunder and lightning in the distance.  Well actually, a huge one just crashed right over our head and the van leapt into the air in fright.

Our van is full of mess and dirty washing, dirt and tins of food.  We haven't stopped much for the last week and everything slowly piles up around us.  The fridge is nearly empty, and we've run out of snacks for the car, but everyone is happy and excited because they are going home.

We looked at the map tonight at dinner to see where we'd been and what we'd enjoyed the most.  Grant enjoyed climbing the big trees of Pemberton, I enjoyed snorkelling at Ningaloo, the children all enjoyed the times we visited other families or met children to play with.

Thanks for coming with us on our journey to some parts of Australia, It's been very nice to have your company! (I will do one more post tomorrow!)
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Vicki

Cobar to Bourke

Off again this morning.  We managed to head off as other people were stopping for their morning tea!

205 km to Cobar, and dead kangaroos on the road everywhere.  All those trucks driving through the night, stopping for breaks at our camping spot!

 

We stopped for lunch in Cobar. Cobar mines copper and gold.  Katie enjoyed the 'Ode to Cobar" printed in their information brochure.  It was written some time in the 1890s by an unknown author...

The sport of fate, one summer's day
My wandering footsteps led astray
And landed me, I'm sad to say
In Cobar

There is no mountain dale or valley
No babbling brooks make sudden sally
Just sandhills fringed with stunted mallee,
That's Cobar.

Midst sulphur fumes and dynamite
The miners work from noon till night
and this I think the saddest sight,
In Cobar

It's very hard to write in ink
the many things which I could think
all tend to drive a saint to drink,
in Cobar.

The water's bad, the food is worse
We've blight, Barcoo and typhoid curse
And many a man takes to a hearse,
In Cobar.

I have not any hesitation
in giving forth my condemnation
it is the dead end of creation,
Is Cobar.

That's just a bit of it!  I don't think the author liked Cobar much.  I think it's quite nice now!  It's been very green everywhere, at least.

We have been reading "A Fortunate Life" by AB Facey, in the car.  It's very interesting. He lived and travelled around a lot of the places we have been to in Western Australia, so it makes it easier to picture it.

We drove on north 160 km to Bourke, the entry point to the outback north and west of here.  The darling river runs through the town and at the moment it is flooded.  The first thing the couple in the caravan park said when they saw us was "we don't have a pool". 

We must have looked hot and bedraggled, because they gave us each a cold can of soft drink and sent us off to the river where it is not flowing and we went for a swim.  The water was bath temperature and brown.  Joseph and Dom thought it was great fun to disappear under the water and pop up somewhere else where we didn't expect them.

There once were paddle boats on the Darling River, running wool and wheat down to ports further south.  The Darling River system is the largest in Australia, 1700 miles from it's source, and together with it's tributaries drains 250,000 miles in two states. (can you tell I copied that from a guide book?)

Fred hollows is buried here in the cemetery.  Henry Lawson spent six months here getting the feel of the bush and drying out from alcohol.  Camel trains used to come through here.  With the increased use of roads, the river became less used for transport.  Bourke is right on the edge of the Great Artesian Basin, 640,000 square miles of underground water that keeps a multi-million dollar sheep industry thriving in the area.

 

Tonight we have discovered that a river in flood breeds a lot of mosquitoes.  Millions.  And they all want to get into our caravan.
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Vicki

White Cliffs

Joseph can smell the end of the journey, and doesn’t he let us know it. 
We headed off towards Wilcannia this morning, after chatting with Pete and Jeanie, a couple we met at the roadside stop.  Not much in Wilcannia, but a few nice old buildings.  These towns were once thriving and growing, and now they are empty.
We turned north towards White Cliffs, where they mine for opals, a hundred km drive through scrub, grass and red dirt.  We arrived in the middle of a stinking hot day, amongst a motley collection of tin sheds, an expensive national parks information centre (closed), old deserted pub covered in Castlemaine signs, and hills of rubble.  Very few trees.  The kids all thought it was a bit dry and dusty.  I think everyone was staying inside out of the heat.  Summer is not their peak tourist season.
 
Up a hill we visited Jock.  He lives in a dugout, as do many of the people in White Cliffs, with rooms dug into the side of the hill.  The exposed rock inside is whitewashed, linoleum laid on the floor, water piped in the walls, and voila, a house that is several degrees cooler than the temperature outside. Jock spoke very loudly, and had a bit of a tale of woe, but we enjoyed wandering through the tunnels of his cave home.  He had old things piled everywhere.  I saw old cooking pots, a silver tray, a huge set of bellows, wicker baby prams, a grind stone, old typewriter, taxi meter....

We drove around between the opal mines searching for opals in the piles of rubble.   There were mine shafts everywhere.  Try doing a google search on White Cliffs and see what it looks like from the air.
It was hot.
We decided to visit an opal shop so we could actually show the  children some opals, and the people there were very nice, salting the ground outside their dugout with potch (rock) that had some colour and letting everyone hunt for it to get the idea.  They were much more cheerful than Jock.    We decided to have another hunt between the mine shafts. This time we found some little bits and pieces.  It was very hot.  
We drove back into Wilcannia and stopped for fuel at a temperamental fuel bowser.  Every $30 of fuel it would reset and you had to hang it up and start again.
There were some little puppy dogs crowding behind a fence.  Black cattle dogs.  this must have raised a bit of a discussion amongst the children, because Nadine asked me later, "why did we have to have Neo dissected?". (Neo is our dog)

We photographed one of the beautiful old buildings beside the big lake in this small town, and kept driving.
It is really hot. (did I mention that already?)  It is so hot I don’t even have to boil water to get it warm for washing up.  It comes out of our tap hot!
Tonight we are camped 55km out of Wilcannia on the way to Cobar.  There were emus, foxes, kangaroos and goats across the road as we drove this evening.  It is a truck stop, and trucks keep stopping, funny that, to take their 15 minute break every two hours or whatever it is.  They pull in, their brakes hiss and sigh, they run their engine for ten minutes or so, then they rev it up and slowly move off again.  Right near our van.  Not sure how the sleeping is going to go tonight.
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Vicki

Silverton

Grant woke up this morning ready to zoom home.  For a few days now he's been keen to draw the big journey to a close, and a night of pesky mosquitoes and children wanting to be taken to the toilet took it's toll.  Joseph sparked up considerably and even helped to pack up the van!  There is still a fair way to go, so we'll see how long we take. 

Penrose Park where we are camped was made a public area in 1937, and picnic trains used to run from Broken Hill, bringing groups of people in open carriages to enjoy a day here.  there are BBQs, goats, birds, peacocks, a pony, and the old train which you can climb all over. 

We used the showers, visited the animals, then went to visit the town of Silverton.

Silverton was the original silver rush town.  Then Silver was found at Broken Hill, and people left Silverton, taking their houses with them!  There are a few brick buildings left, and very ornate street signs, but that's all.

Silverton's claim to fame is that it has been the setting for over a hundred films and commercials.  Mad Max 2, A town like Alice, Priscilla Queen of the Desert are three that come to mind. (I've never actually watched them myself, so no guarantees on content!)

We visited the Hotel and there were signs nailed up under the verandah that have been used in these different productions to rename the pub.  they had the Mad Max cars on display outside, and photos of all different productions over the walls.

there were plenty of funny sayings hanging down from the roof.  some of which I could never explain to Nadine, but some of which were funny.

LOLO, AQIC, I82QB4IP.
There's no point arguing if you're wrong, and no need if you're right.
Sometimes I wake up grumpy, and sometimes I let him sleep in.

In Silverton we visited  The Coin Carvery, where Andy Jenkins used a tiny hacksaw to cut around the kangaroo in a penny and turn it into a piece of art.  Grant found out all about the hacksaw...we have some pennies at home. Andy was a real character and gave us a brochure as a “pattern” to cut out our own.

With the reduction of the mining in Broken Hill, I got the impression that they are trying to create a name for themselves as an artist's haven.  This is where Pro Hart was born and worked as a miner before he went full time into art.  His daughter Julie also has a gallery here.  Everywhere are galleries with work by many different artists.

We drove back into Broken Hill and visited two art galleries, one with a huge canvas acrylic painting of the outback, the largest in the world, apparently.  It was all around the wall of a round room and made it feel like you were outside, looking at mountains and spinifex and lots of red dirt.

We also visited a gallery with some lovely paintings by more traditional artists.  Rupert Bunny was one that I remember.

After that bit of culture, everyone was tired and we went to the Broken Hill Regional Aquatic Centre.  This is newly expanded to include heated pools, children's pools, and a big water slide.  Admittance is the grand sum of $2 each.  We had a lovely hour there before heading out of Broken Hill on our way to Wilcannia.

We are camped at a rest stop 122kms out of Broken Hill, near to the highway, but it has toilets and a playground.  When we saw the playground we couldn't drive past.  Two other couples are pulled in for the night, there is a cool breeze and no mosquitoes.  What more could you want?
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Vicki

Broken Hill

We had left everything inside the van for the first time ever last night.  It was raining and we didn't want everything to get wet.  It was a bit awkward, climbing over boxes and folded chairs and a folded table to get to bed, but it worked out okay, so strictly speaking we should have been able to get away really early.  Nothing to pack into the van this morning.  umm, no.  We dawdled around eating breakfast, boiling vegetables in case I had to hand them in going across the SA/NSW border, and even the people in the late night tent got away before us.  Never mind.  It's all part of the journey.

We only had a short way to go before New South Wales.  They were stopping people on the way into South Australia, checking for fruit and veg, but on the way out there was nothing, so I have my vegetables all boiled ready for tonight.

Broken Hill is a large mining town in the Barrier Ranges, built to mine a large silver deposit.  The first silver was discovered here by a boundary rider, a man who rode up and down a section of the dingo fence to check it was all in order.  There are these different fences in Australia running from north to south, or east to west; rabbit fence, dingo fence; to try and keep some of these animals out of crops.  I'm sure if it would work they'd have constructed a cane toad fence, but cane toads are unstoppable.

Anyway, Charles Rasp found the first silver here in 1883.  The Broken Hill Proprietary (BHP) company then proceeded to mine it for many years, employing thousands of men and women.  The Broken Hill, from where the town got it’s name, no longer exists because it has been mined away.  BHP developed a commercial process for frothing metals out of crushed rock, making it more productive in it's mining.  It looked like the same process that they use now in Kalgoorlie to extract the gold.  In Broken Hill they mine silver, lead and zinc.

Unions have always played a big part in Broken Hill, and an eighteen month long strike was staged here between 1908 and 1909 to ask for better working conditions for the miners.  In the end they were successful.  Today BHP no longer operates in Broken Hill.  there are two smaller companies employing about 400 people.  But they are expected to still mine for another 30 to 40 years.

We learnt a lot of this when we went to White's mining museum, a museum set up in Kevin White's large shed.  He had done a good job framing it inside with Oregon timber, just like he did for 26 years in the mine.  It was like being underground.  Kevin grinds up different minerals from the mines to make pictures.  Some of them were very good. 

 

 

 

After White's we drove to the miner's memorial, set up on top  of the mullock heap of rubble they have pulled out of the ground.  The whole pile looked very unstable to us, but I guess they'd made sure it's solid before they built on top. They have a wall of all the miners who have died at Broken Hill.  One boy was 14 and had fallen down a shaft.  There were a number who had been involved in a fall of rock.  We sat on the big bench up there.  It was big.

 

 

We had a good view of the town, a train coming in from Sydney direction, and a lovely breeze.  We hunted on the ground for rocks with silver or zinc or lead in them...don't think we had any luck here either.

 

 

 

 

Tonight we are camped 25km north of Broken Hill, just outside of Silverton, at Penrose Park.  We have green grass, a lovely breeze, some playground equipment, and corellas flying and squawking everywhere.

Unfortunately, we also have fierce swarms of mosquitoes crowding the fly screens, trying to get into the van.  No eating outside tonight.

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Vicki

Chocolate

It rained lightly this morning, not heavy but enough to take the heat out of the air, and we felt much more like packing everything up in order to move on. There is so much more to see in South Australia, but we will have to save it for another time.  We need to turn towards home.

Val set off to work nice and early, and we gathered all our things (although I think I managed to leave behind a plate or two!) and headed back into Adelaide.

As we drove through the Adelaide Hills, we took a slight detour up Mt Lofty, where we had a great view out over the city.  The sign said the mountain area was named by Matthew Flinders in 1802 (he was very busy in 1802) and used to be covered in huge stringy bark trees.  They have all gone for firewood and houses, but the land has been re-planted and is covered in trees, a bit smaller than those first stringy barks were.

We drove through Adelaide and on to the other side to see Glenelg, a popular beach which you can catch a tram to from the city centre.  It reminded me of the Gold Coast with big apartment blocks and loads of shops, and heaps of people everywhere.

Back into the city we parked, made our lunch, then walked the short distance to Haigh's chocolate factory on  Greenhill Road.  Haigh's is a family owned manufacturer and purveyor of fine chocolates which was started in Adelaide in 1916.  They now have stores in Melbourne and Sydney, and you can purchase their quality hand made chocolates online anywhere in Australia.

We had booked a free tour, and since there were eight in the family, they gave us a private one.  We were given free samples and a guided tour of part of their facilities.

Originally, Mr Haigh operated out of a shop in the beehive building in Adelaide city centre.  He bought in the chocolate which he then used to cover things with or mix through icecream. He sold the sweets during the day, and made more during the night in the room above the shop.

It was a few generations later that a Haigh decided they should make the chocolate themselves, and wangled an 'apprenticeship' with Lindt in Switzerland to learn how to make quality chocolate.  Now they sell quality chocolates in Australia.

An agent in Paris buys the kakao beans and sends them to Adelaide.  They then husk the beans, grind them under pressure to make a paste, add sugar, cocoa butter, vanilla etc, then dry that out to form a powder.  Next they 'conch' the chocolate, which is mixing it for 72 hours while adding progressively more cocoa butter until you have smooth, thick, runny chocolate.

The chocolate is then used for all Haigh's products.  We saw big chocolate hearts being hand wrapped in red foil for Valentine's day, egg molds for making Easter eggs (which will then also be hand wrapped), round chocolates being hand mixed and formed out of white chocolate and pistachio nuts, round chocolate balls being handmade, one person forming the balls and another person roughing up the outside to form the distinctive finish.  All their chocolates are handmade, hand wrapped, hand packed, and regularly quality controlled.  Later, in the Haigh's store, Nadine said "now I know why these chocolates are so expensive!". But they did taste pretty good.

We drove out the north side of Adelaide, through Gawler, Burra and Mt. Bryan.  We read about Sir Hubert Wilkins, who was the youngest of 13 children, born in the area, had a poor education, and went on to become the most famous explorer and  aviator of the northern polar region.  He even tried to submarine under the arctic ice at one stage.  I'd never heard of him.

Val gave me the book, A Fortunate Life by AB Facey, and I am enjoying reading it.  It is set in Western Australia and we have been in a lot of the places he mentions.

 

A thunderstorm blew up late this afternoon, with lightning flashing on the horizon, and dark clouds gathering, wind blowing and rain pelting down.  I'm not sure if that was unusual or not, but we kept driving, hoping the rain would ease up before we pulled over for the night.

We are camped at Nackara East with another couple from Perth who are on their way to upper Coomera near Mt Tamborine, to build a house.  The lightning display is continuing as darkness comes.  Every now and then we will have a heavy shower of rain and a strong wind.  As I write this, at 12am, another car has just pulled in and I can hear them pitching their tent.  I am very grateful for our caravan on nights like this.
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Vicki