Welcome to the narrative of our journey. The various pictures are thumbnails linking to a larger picture, which should open in a new window. Various other links are highlighted. For those interested in birdlife, here is a list of some of the species seen.
Please read on...Cowra: On 5/8/44 over 1,000 Japanese POW's attempted to escape - 4 Aussie soldiers and 231 Japanese died. The town now has a beautiful Japanese garden sponsored by the people of Japan as thanks for the care given to the wargraves.
Dubbo: the main feature here (apart from the camp being beside the railway line - ever noticed how they always put camping grounds near railways, airports and anything else noisy? And the tent sites are usually without shade, closest to the noise and have ground as hard as the hobs of hell so tent pegs won't drive!) - is the Western Plains Zoo. At the Zoo they specialise in the breeding of rare and endangered animals such as rhino, Sumatran tigers and Mongolian horses. We strolled around for the afternoon, but I have to say that, while pleasant, we can't rave about it. [Probably more to do with the fact that we had just started the epic journey and were still getting over the excitement of the last three months of planning, packing and panicking]
Nyngan: Since Narromine we started the long, long, flat straights. There was a strong temptation to stop and throw a party when we came to a corner. The road was punctuated with floodways every few hundred metres. What bloody rain? Wet season perhaps? We saw the first of many willy-willys that we would see on the trip. These are small, clear sky tornados usually only a few metres across and 100 - 200 metres high. Sometimes much bigger and capable of giving the car a good buffeting. This was the start of the 'Outback'.
Somewhere between Cobar and Wilcannia we stopped for our first bush camp on the trailer. We drove off the highway onto a track near Barnato Lake and set up camp. After dark a car came toward us and then peeled off into the scrub - didn't see it again. Where did they come from? Where did they go? The night was a bit sleepless wondering if they would return.
Wilcannia: once a large town, now dying fast. Most of the businesses have gone and buildings are all shuttered up. Those still open have security screens, steel bars, roller doors and the like. We fuelled up and left for Broken Hill. The first of the road trains is spotted.
a 110 wheel road train (world's largest)
Broken Hill: the first thing you see here are the massive heaps of metal from the silver-lead-zinc mines. The town (like several in Oz) is a company town. We passed through on our way to Silverton.
Silverton: used to be a busy silver mining area (3000+ prospectors), but is now a virtual ghost town. Several of the old buildings have been restored, including the old gaol. This houses a museum and was worth a look. Each cell had a different theme: weddings, Lodges, sports, etc; and displayed photos and memorabilia from times when Silverton was a thriving community.
the old footie team (1890's)
The Pub has never stopped trading, of course, and has been used in movies like 'A Town Like Alice' and 'Mad Max'. Lots of things from the movie world on their walls. The derelict old houses just sit abandoned, slowly crumbling in the desert.
Silverton Hotel - built 1883
We stayed at the local campground and experienced heavy rain for the first and last time on the trip, until we got to Queensland two months later. Half an inch fell in a couple of hours. Hmmmm, we begin to understand why all the 'floodways' road signs. It was here that we first saw Apostle Birds (Lousy Jacks) - so named because they hang around in groups of twelve or so. They are rather like oversize sparrows - dove sized, blue-grey and demented; and they provided plenty of amusement whenever we saw them.
at Silverton Gaol - prisoners' toilets
Port Augusta: we continued along the Barrier Highway into South Australia, through Peterborough and over some real hills down to the coast and around to Port Augusta at the head of the Spencer Gulf. Linz tried his luck fishing - wet arse, no fish. Heading due North now, back into the desert. Still not particularly warm.
the old wharf-Port Augusta
Woomera: just off the Stuart Highway heading north. This was the British Commonwealth testing ground for rockets in the 50's. It was also the base for many nuclear tests at nearby Maralinga, (which will be returned to its tribal owners when it is safe to enter - about 20,000 years time). Woomera is still busy supporting research teams from DSTO as there is still a bomb-range here, and there is a chance that rocket launches may return to the area for overseas companies. Outside their museum is a collection of old rockets and bombs. The latest use for the old army barracks here is as a detention centre for illegal immigrants.
rockets at Woomera
Roxby Downs: north of Woomera is another purpose built mining town with all the essentials including schools, shops and a hospital. Roxby attracts its fair share of criticism because they mine uranium as well as copper. A greenie protest was expected sometime later that week. Leaving Roxby, we drove up the Borefield Road, our first major unsealed road and very good it was, too, and joined the Oodnadatta Track. On the way through we crossed the world's longest fence - the Dingo Fence, started in the 40's and as at early 90's was over 5000 kms long.
on the track
Somewhere on the Oodnadatta Track. First to connect Adelaide and Darwin was the telegraph in the 1800's. In the 1880's it was decided to put a railway through to Darwin and the route chosen was along the telegraph line. The old 'Ghan' (named after the Afghan camel herders who used this route) ran until 1980, then the tracks were ripped up for use on the sugar railways in Queensland. The sleepers, bridges and the like were left to decay. Today, the new Ghan railway runs closer to the Stuart Highway and still stops at Alice Springs. A 'Centenary of Federation' project is planned to complete the missing Alice to Darwin section.
We camped the night in the lee of a dune alongside the track. We were very close to Lake Eyre South and yet still miles from anywhere. The old sleepers made a lovely fire. At about 10:00pm, as we were turning in, a 4WD driven by a fairly large and unattractive man pulled up to check us out. He was a security guard from Roxby Downs and was making sure we were only 'happy campers' and not protesters. Reassured, he left. Alone again in the middle of nowhere and a blanket of stars. The next morning we awoke and Colin climbed the dune for a photo. On the other side of the dune was an Aboriginal settlement - house, tents, cars, and flags. Alone, huh?!
the camp
Lake South Eyre (part of the world's 6th largest lake) was a flat salt plain. Interestingly this part of Australia is actually below sea-level.
Curdimurka: an old railway siding, maintained by the Ghan Preservation Society. The old station house, quarters and water tanks still stand. The tanks had desalinaters because the bore water was too salty for the steam trains. They have an annual party here under the stars and attract up to 3000+ people.
"Currrr-di-murka where the sun shines brightly on the plains..."*
*with apologies to Rogers ands Hammerstein
The Mound Springs are an interesting phenomena. As small springs bubble to the surface they gradually increase in height by depositing salt and attracting plant and insect life until they get quite high. The current crop are about 10m high with grass surrounded pools of water at the top. Nearby was an extinct spring nearly 100m high, which we dutifully climbed for the view - we could have been looking at another planet.
William Creek: a junction on the track that has a turnoff to Coober Pedy. The road house is no more than a pub with rudimentary accommodation, stores and petrol. Most of the 4WD backpacker tours stop here and the walls are covered in photos and messages, which read like most of the backpackers were pretty pissed when they scribed their ditties for posterity. A couple of young ringers (cowboys - handsome, too) walked in while we were there. They were from 'Anna Creek' - the world's largest cattle station, through which the road passes, 300kms of it actually. The property covers 30,114 sq km, (that's 12,046 sq miles, or 7.71 million acres)!!
William Creek Hotel
Not much further down the track stands a cast-iron railway bridge nearly 1/2km long, still the longest in South Australia. The thing was made in Adelaide during the depression for a stretch of track that regularly flooded. Today it sits as a monument to those who worked in such a remote area and harsh climate.
the old bridge
Oodnadatta: yes, like Timbuktu, it does exist. Once the railhead and a town of 300, now a small Aboriginal settlement. It still has the pub, hospital and police station and quite a few shanties. It also has the 'Pink Roadhouse' - an obscene colour if ever we've seen one. All around the area for hundreds of miles are little signs telling tourists of the local attractions, sights and so on all brought to you by the 'Pink Roadhouse'. The petrol was cheaper at the general store! I did secure a trailer light plug to replace the one that got ripped off by flying rocks earlier.
the road conditions ahead
Further north we took a left onto the Painted Desert road. Once again endless gibber plains. Colin asked: where are they hiding this Painted Desert? Around the next corner? It was! Quite beautiful. "No words can do justice to the brilliance of vivid colours contrasting with the deep blue sky." Near the end of the road, just 30kms from the Stuart Highway we shredded a rear tyre on the gibber. It was a cautious drive to Cadney Homestead with no other spare.
the Painted Desert
Cadney Homestead: a roadhouse on the Stuart Highway. We pitched the tent and enjoyed the luxury of a hot shower. Dress rules were in force at the roadhouse restaurant so we changed and had a roast pork dinner for $10 each. Huge serves, and all eaten. We noticed that others seemed to ignore the dress rules. Later we realised that many signs like 'pay for petrol before pumping', etc did not apply to us. We scored a roaded (used) tyre here for a spare. We checked the car for damage: no handbrake, no airconditioning and no dashlights. An attempt to repair the trailer lights blew the brake lights on the car so we yielded the radio fuse until we could get to The Alice and have everything checked. Milk at $2.50 a litre was a little steep.
Off up the Stuart Highway towards the Northern Territory and Ayers Rock (many don't realise the Rock is 200kms from the Highway and that the turn off is 200kms south of The Alice. Surprising how many people make the day return trip of over 800kms from The Alice. There is no speed limit on the open road in the Territory, if your car can do 200km/h then do it! Most seem to sit around 125, very comfortable for the road. Very visible on the road were the Britz campervans. Most of the drivers were German or European so 'more Fritz's in Britz's' became our cry, with their autobahn speeds in vehicles hardly designed to cope. We refuelled at the Erldunda Shell roadhouse. While fuel prices had been up to around 97 to 98 cents a litre at Oodnadatta and places miles from anywhere, here in the middle of a sealed highway unleaded was $1.00 a litre. It was cheaper at the Rock at the resort. Well done Shell - 40 years of customer loyalty went down the drain there and then. That night's camp was at a rest area near Mt. Connor - a massive, perfectly round flat top mountain often mistaken for Ayers Rock. A 4WD driver didn't like the way he was facing when he pulled up in his spot so he crashed his way through the scrub to save driving 100m - ignorant swine. Once he turned around there was a whoosh-thump sound. He had blown a rear tyre. We looked the next morning and his tyre tracks went straight over the stump of a mulga tree that he had broken down that night. The tree will never recover, but nor will his side wall.
Mt Connor
Ayers Rock (Uluru): a rusty stone. More than that, the world's biggest rusty stone nearly 1km high and 9kms around resting alone on a flat plain. And it is one rock, not a conglomerate, but arkose, a sand-stone based material containing over 15% feldspar (hence the rust). You can walk up to it and on to it (although the local Aborigines ask you not to). We climbed to a height of about 50m on the walkway. Vertigo won. There is no vegetation on the rock itself, it is bare; yet there is a small species of shrimp ,found no where else, that breeds only in puddles at the top of the rock after rains (why are we not surprised?). Some of the more interesting geological formations are "secret men's or women's business" and tourists are requested not to take photos. Linz had been followed in his meandering around the base of the rock by a woman who kept giving him the most severe of looks. While he was reading a sign she stood next to him and glared. Linz knows he's not the prettiest and doesn't resemble anyone famous so he asked "What is your problem?". "Your tobacco," she replied with a heavy Dutch accent, "I can smell it three hundred feet away." How bloody rude, he thought. She could have easily stood upwind. We sincerely hope she did the same thing to an Aboriginal woman up here, as to stare in such a manner is very insulting in their culture and worthy of a smack in the chops.
Uluru - over 900m high the path around Uluru
The Olgas (Kata Tjuta): a short drive (50kms) from Ayers Rock. Younger than Ayers, the 36 peaks are conglomerates, but still rusty. Quite eerie canyons and heights (500+m). Driving out we saw three wild dingos on the side of the road - our first sighting of dingos this trip and so close to Ayers Rock! (Azaria!)
We stopped that night at the Yulara Resort where the privilege of camping with hundreds of others was $22 a night. We thought we'd eat out at the bistro, but the steak special at $26 was a little over the top. We went fish and chips ($8.50) and a hamburger ($6). They were crap. For such a quality resort to gouge clients for cheap supermarket brand products (I recognised the gristle and seasoning) presented as they were (a la Maccas and a lot older than 10 minutes) deserves condemnation. The supermarket is reasonably priced (probably not owned by the resort); any future visit will be a case of buying there and cooking for ourselves.
Henbury Meteorite Craters: an oil-drum sized chunk of rock hit the earth 4000 - 5000 years ago at 40,000k/h and blew a 30m deep, 183m round crater. Smaller pieces peppered in around it.
Alice Springs: we refuelled at the resort to avoid Shell at Erldunda as we back-tracked to the Stuart Highway and then north to Alice where we set up camp at a caravan park near the middle of town. We asked if there was a club within walking distance and were advised that it was unsafe to travel the streets at night in groups less than 6 or so - a rude awakening for both of us to some of the realities of life in Central Australia that don't get a mention in the glossy brochures or travel guides. The car was serviced and everything but the radio and the dashlights were fixed. We had to order in a tyre to replace one that was a bit worn (2 days wait). We lazed for a few days, went gemstone fossicking and rewired the trailer. We still do not have tail lights on the trailer; the brake and indicators do work. A pleasant town to rest in after the harrowing desert crossing. Interesting to note that security guards are hired to move along groups of Aborigines who might be perceived as 'loitering' - standing, talking. The Todd River (dry in winter), which runs through the middle of town, is the scene of for corroborees with lots of talking, gesticulating and wine casks. Leaving town we passed a Britz van graveyard, they do stack up nicely!
We drove north across the Tropic of Capricorn - we were now not only Outback, but in the Never Never as well! A short respite (read... bourbon) was enjoyed at Barrow Creek (the oldest continuous pub licence in NT) and then we pushed on to the Devils Marbles, said to be the eggs of a rainbow serpent. This, with Wauchope, is the UFO capital of Australia, but we didn't see any. At least, we don't remember seeing any. Did I have that scar yesterday? Some of the rocks here have weathered into spheres, still attached at their bases to the bedrock.
camped at the Devil's Marbles
This is where we saw our first Spinifex Pigeons. Pretty little things that don't fly much. Instead, they hitch up their bustles and dart from place to place.
Carrying on north we crossed the top corner of the Tanami Desert. The dunes stopped and were replaced by termite mounds. Through Tennant Creek and left onto the Buchanan Highway to Dunmurra and Top Springs and then onto the Buntine Highway/Duncan Road. An interesting alternative to two lane bitumen is the single lane sealed with wide gravel sides. Great for driving down, just putting two wheels in the gravel when passing oncoming traffic. But one does pull right off the seal onto the gravel and stop when a roadtrain approaches, if one wants to be certain of living. Described simply, roadtrains are long truck-trailer units that don't stop for nothing: roos, cattle, Britz are all grist to their roo bars. The average unit is the hauler and three trailers, around 50m to pass.
Kalkaringi: an Aboriginal community. It was shut for the day so that all the locals could attend a footie match in celebration of Freedom Day. Like many communities the town area is alcohol-free. At the town perimeter the litter from winecasks, beer cartons and the like is knee deep. Rather than stopping in town we went out to Wave Hill, Bore #6 and fossicked for thundereggs (geodes) and found some nice little examples.
FLIES!! Everywhere in the outback there are flies, but here there be swarms! In the eyes, ears, around the lips; and repellent seems to only serve to advertise your location to a greater number of the pests. Thankfully they disappear at dusk, usually to be replaced by mosquitos on whom the repellent does work.
On we go through massive treeless plains, across the border into West Australia.
Halls Creek: Only a couple of kilometers out of Halls Creek we picked up a puncture - a nail. The caravan park was nearly empty by 8:00am. Halls Creek is mainly an overnight stay for travellers. We enjoyed an all-you-can-eat buffet at the local hotel that night, which was rather pleasant, dining by the pool. The chef had sideburns and a goatee trim that could have minced straight out of Oxford Street. Oh, trés avant garde.
We drove along the Great Northern Highway through Fitzroy Crossing to Broome, one of our longest pushes.
Broome: we heard that accommodation could be hard to get so we phoned ahead only to be told that there was plenty of space for tents. We arrived late afternoon and went to the caravan park at Cable Beach. Fortunately we checked the site first. A flat paddock (it used to house camels) with white gravel roads, concrete kerbing and white sand on the sites. No shade, not even a blade of grass. With temperatures rising to the high 30's ºC, NO THANKS! Just up the road at a resort we looked again. Here, in their bid for the holy dollar, they offered the grass on roundabouts located in the middle of cul-de-sacs with the lounge windows of up to six units looking on. No thanks! Roebuck Bay Caravan Park - we were offered a shady site in the backpackers area with the option to relocate the next day. Sold! The backpackers area was opened only in the peak period. The entire camp was shaded by huge old trees (21 different types of mango, we were informed) and haunted by bats at night. One night was OK, but Colin was adamant that after driving thousands of kilometers through flat, dry, dusty plains we had to have a view of the ocean. Linz was loathe to give up the views of the healthy young backpackers - shirts off, tanned... In the morning Colin found a better site that had a view of the bay and the Indian Ocean beyond.
What glorious days, sea breezes cooling the 35º to 37º temperatures. We watched the sun set over the ocean at Cable Beach and then turned around to watch the full moon rise between the coconut palms on the dunes. The full moon meant that at low tide we could see the remains of Catalina flying boats in the bay - bombed during the war (March 3, 1942), and look at the 130 million year old dinosaur footprints in the rocks at Gantheaume Point.
We tried fishing off the jetty - 900m long and no public vehicle access. No luck, but lots of large sea snakes in the water. We did the Sun, outdoor cinema - $10 entry, mossies free. The Broome Hysterical Society has a museum featuring "all aspects of the pearling industry from its conception" and "Mrs McDaniels world-wide shell collection", which we have to admit was extensive. Well worth the $3. A market was held on Town Beach during the full moon and the night sands were lit by the torches of young fire dancers. Broome's major industry has always been pearls. Many Japanese settled here to dive from the luggers. In fact, it is quite a multicultural town. Being the end of the season I think the locals were getting a little tired of tourists and the service in some local shops was slack, even surly. Many of the holiday makers were from Perth and south WA - 'East Coasters' were to be tolerated. Our nearest neighbour was Pete from Nelligen, on the South Coast near Queanbeyan. He travels as he feels like it with his ute and caravan. We met many people travelling like that.
sunset at Broome 
the dinosaur paw
Broome moon
Colin drives on Cable Beach.
Off again, a little reluctantly, after six days and nights in Broome
Derby: a small port town with a reputation for huge tides, some of the largest in the world. We watched people fishing with crab-pots off the wharf. The flow was incredible. We drove down the Gibb River Road and then turned onto the road to Tunnel Creek and Windjana Gorge. About three kilometres was enough to convince us the corrugations would not get any better, so we retreated back to the Gibb. We decided to head further along the Gibb to find a camp for the night. Down the road a small track lead around some boulders to a creek and we saw men swimming from a small bridge. We backed up and drove down the track and saw a large awning covering a lot of motorbikes. We thought, so far so good. As we came closer we realised that the bikes were all Harleys and the all male group wore patches. One of them firmly advised that there was no more room. We declined to argue and Colin executed a perfect three point turn - with trailer - on a single lane metal track. We drove on to the Napier Range and camped the night. When we drove out the next morning we saw the bikies had gone, but had left unburied piles of shit and paper on the riverbank, all over the camping area, even on the road. We were surprised they'd bothered using paper. Back down the road, another attempt at Windjana from Fitzroy Crossing with no luck
Linz on the headland at Bohemia Station
Geikie Gorge: just out from Fitzroy Crossing is a boat trip run by the local ranger service. They give a talk on various features passed and point out fresh-water crocodiles and other wildlife. An earlier tour is run by the local Aborigines and I think it would have been far more interesting as our tour said very little about the Aboriginal history in the area. A young couple asked us how we survived the Windjana Road. They only took it because they saw us coming out and thought 'if they can do it in a Vectra, we can in our 4WD'. Ha ha ha. Listening to the transistor radio that night while camping on a lookout peak at the abandoned Bohemia Downs, we learnt our bikies were Perth's 'Coffin Cheaters' - an outlaw motorcycle club, on their annual run. They had been put into the quarry at Fitzroy Crossing for the night. At this camp we saw a dingo sniffing around a caravan, Colin spotted a HUGE spider (dinner plate size) in the dunny along with the obligatory red-back, and Colin lost the car. We were standing at the trailer when Colin looked up and said "where's the car", a note of panic entering his voice. I pointed behind him to where the car was still attached to the trailer. Damn fine wine that one! Back through Halls Creek and onto the Gibb River Road from the other end and three river crossings later ...
El Questro: a 1,000,000 acre working cattle property that also accommodates guests at the station house for $700pp a night, all inclusive. We spent four nights here in the camping area at a more modest $10 a night. They have a camping area with bungalows, restaurant and bar (where a reasonable amount of time was spent checking out the handsome staff). Along the Pentecost River they have private camping sites at the same price and we took one of these 6kms from the office. Oh glory! Lazing in the sun, dipping in the river (ensuring at all times you can see your feet so you can watch any attacking croc), a spot of fishing. The centrepiece of our camp was an enormous boab tree with a huge straight trunk easily 8m around and 20m high. I was hit on the thumb by a 'nut' falling from the thing and it bloody hurt!
the Vectra leaving El Questro
On the way out of El Questro we stopped at Zebedee Springs, a hot spring that runs out of the cliffs. They were like a hot bath, and despite the heat of the day, were very relaxing. When we arrived, lots of people were lounging in the various pools under the Livingston Palms. We went into a large divided pool with another couple, who desperately tried to spread themselves out to avoid sharing. Later that day, the 'lady' of the couple pointed and smirked as they passed us on the Gibb River Road changing a flat tyre on our trailer. Hopefully she enjoyed the punctures wished upon her.
Herewith our bitch about 4WD drivers. While most are careful and considerate, too significant a number are bloody idiots that have no right on the road whatsoever. While changing the trailer flat a couple of drivers slowed down when passing, but the majority didn't even slow down to reduce dust or move to the other side of the road to avoid wind-shock. Useless mongrels!! They probably didn't see the abusive body language of Colin for all the dust they had thrown up and, after that, we decided arrogance and rudeness travels very comfortably with city folk behind the wheel of a 4WD. And the number of them that won't go off the bitumen, even on one lane highways, is truly pathetic. But then again, when they spend so much time washing and polishing their vehicles, it's no wonder they don't like driving off road, it might get dirty!
Kununurra: there should be a 't' in that name. The town where a hero in a 4WD full of tools and a small tan pup backed over the front of the car and shot through. I sincerely hope this mongrel has a nasty accident involving a self-opening umbrella, coconuts and a rubber chicken! If that's the attitude of the locals (and particularly uninterested cops when it was reported) we declined to spend any more time or money than we had to in this town so headed down the road.
Lake Argyle: a man-made inland sea, to act as the catchment for the Ord River irrigation project. A single rock-wall dam holds back the equivalent of 11 times the volume of Sydney Harbour, and is capable of holding 54 times; it took two wet seasons to fill it to the presently held level.
The lake's headwaters are second to the Amazon's. Colin shouted for a flight with Slingair (no boys, not what you're thinking). We flew the length of the lake and on to the Bungle Bungles massif (in Purnululu National Park) where we circled for photos. These are huge dome shaped sandstone pillars with stripes. Quite unique.
The Bungle Bungles (Purnalulu)
The flight then went to Argyle diamond mine for lunch with the miners and a tour. Unlike other mines that have towns and all the associated infrastructure that go with them, Lake Argyle has been built like a 5 star resort with rooms that are occupied in six week blocks, the workers then taking six weeks off. They have a weekly Ansett charter to Perth. The facilities include a mess hall, large pool, sports courts, bar (natch) and small shop. They sell cut diamonds on site, but not small natural stones still in the rock. Hey, there's a market there! On to the mine. We drove up to the lookout. The mountain range has been cut in half following the flue of an ancient volcano, wherein diamonds are found. Having gone down nearly 500m they have found a new source off at an angle, which necessitates starting at the top of the range and cutting all the way down again to the new vein... there's big money in diamonds!
Lake Argyle diamond mine.
Once again on the Victoria Highway we cross the border back into the Territory, its open roads and rising humidity.
Katherine: awe struck by a huge fruit bat migration flying overhead at dusk. Hundreds and hundreds of giant bats silhouetted against the burnt orange sky.
Still heading north, we visited the WWII cemetery at Adelaide River. This was for the victims of the air-raids on Darwin. Among the graves are those of 42 civilians killed in a direct hit on the Post Office. A couple are 'unknown' and others, presumed Aborigines, offer a choice of Anglo names; it being the custom that the Aboriginal name dies with the person and should not be used.
Along the highway are signs indicating various areas used during the war: air strips; hospitals; stores depots; barracks.
Litchfield National Park: a beautiful park, highly recommended to us. We camped above the Florence Falls. The access to the pool at the base of the falls is down a track and 130+ steps. Toward the bottom of the steps we passed a drop dead gorgeous cowboy climbing up. He smiled and said hello. We fell down the last flight of steps. Water still clung to his hair. We kicked ourselves for not being a few minutes earlier to see this hunk in the bare flesh at the pool. The water was amazingly clear, deep and cool. It's the locals alternative to Kakadu. The view was clouded by smoke haze from a lot of bushfires around the area.
Florence Falls
We drove back through Batchelor where we stopped briefly at the Butterfly Farm and Restaurant. We thought we would have a coffee before we paid our $5.50 viewing charge. For the coffee, we were directed toward a large tin of (instant) International Roast that sat on a nearby table in the restaurant. Even the road houses had the decency to pour it for you! Looking at their brochure we saw that their enclosures displayed "about six different species including local butterflies as well as those from far North Queensland". No thanks.
Darwin: a city! We arrived on the day of a huge open air market at Mindil Beach. We drank cocktails of tropical fruit juices squeezed before us, we dined on crocodile spare ribs and camel kebabs. The croc was like chicken marinated in prawns and the camel would not be a meat of choice in the future. Colin tugged Linz's shirt and pointed out a cute arse in front of us, it was our cowboy once again!
We toured the Fanny Bay Gaol, closed in 1975, for a look at what a tropical prison was like. Still the immense thick walls on the cell block, but wooden louvred windows on the amenities. The NT Museum and Gallery has an excellent Cyclone Tracey exhibition, including tape recordings of the storm that are played in a totally dark room to heighten the experience. We ate barramundi and chips at Fisherman's Wharf.
The aviation museum was fascinating. The whole display is accommodated in a building designed to hold a B52 bomber, one of only 2 on display outside the USA. The plane is immense and the rest of the exhibits are around and under it. They include pieces of aircraft shot down around Darwin during the war. The rising humidity in Darwin got to us so we took a cabin with airconditioning for two nights. The aircon stayed on maximum the whole time. The Holden service department fixed the radio!
A lot of people we spoke to suggested that Kakadu was overrated and expensive, so we didn't bother, the local joke is to call it 'Kakadon't'. Instead we drove back south through Katherine and Mataranka on the Stuart Highway.
Elsey National Park: just down the road on the Roper Highway was a pleasant camp - even had showers. We swam in the Roper River at sunset, aware there may be 'freshies' (mostly harmless freshwater crocodiles). Children were swimming near us and we figured that any croc would go for the tasty, tender young ones leaving time for us tough oldies to swim to safety. Later, we saw the croc warning signs - Estuarine (salties): the maneaters! Phew. All fingers, toes and other bits present and accounted for!
Back to the highway at Mataranka and down to Daly Waters We stopped for lunch and ordered a meat pie each. Our orders were taken separately, a numbered ticket issued and a short time later extra-large Mrs Macs pies appeared on green paper dinner napkins (the formal kind!). Our numbers were called and our pies given to us. So touchingly formal and civilised, considering we were the only customers.
We took the single lane hardtop Carpentaria Highway that runs all the way through to Queensland. We cheated and turned right at Heartbreak Hotel and ran down the Tablelands Highway to the Barkly Homestead and Highway. We camped at a rest area before the homestead, enjoyed an all too rare camp fire after a bush shower and got a good photo of a windmill at dusk.
bush shower
the windmill
Most of the Tablelands run through flat plains, dried yellow in the heat. Large groups of cattle muster around the water bores, as they have done most of the trip. Due to the heat the main breed in the north is Brahman cattle. Fences are rare everywhere and roadkill are common.
the long, long road
We still see lots of fires around and had to drive through one coming into the Barkly Homestead, where petrol was 104.9c/litre - the highest price we paid. We turned left and waved goodbye to unlimited speeds as the road entered Queensland and the State speed limit dropped to 100kph and the road surface turned diabolical.
Mt. Isa: you see the mine driving down the highway. The company town sits on one side of the road, the mine on the other. The weather turned grey and cold as soon as we crossed the border. The temperature was never to reach the 30's again until we passed through Sydney three weeks later. We took a night drive around the mine area under all the sodium lights - a city of its own, with power station, smelter and mine. We were rather glad to leave, an oppressive town, nothing that we could put a finger on, but somehow gloomy. Dangerous to generalise, but miners are often tough people and mining towns 'tough' places.
Mt Isa
Torrens Creek: camped at the roadhouse and watched the rugby league semi-final. Several other places we tried either could not receive the satellite signal or only had Channel Seven for the AFL. Here the hosts were footie mad - Denise, the cook, barracking for Parramatta and us for the Storm. She hexed us - it backfired. A family came in from the bush for a special occasion meal, much to her chagrin - she missed most of the match (and Parra lost). We swear we could hear pig-squealin' and banjos from the dining room. Ian, the barman, somehow kept complete order in the bar, fortified by occasional tipples of whisky. The bore water here was red (high in iron) and after a shower the idea was to stay away from magnets.
Charters Towers: the vast majority of buildings in and around the main street have been restored to their earlier glory. An attractive town, bright and clean; it wasn't hard to see what a N. Queensland town was like early this century. The leadlights were still above many of the shop windows.
an old bank in Charters Towers
Townsville: we settled in against the back fence at a caravan park on the beach, next to a tree smothered in red flowers and Rainbow Lorikeets. We went to the Brothers Rugby League Football Club next to Dairy Farmers Stadium to watch the second semi-final. We thought there might be a few players and fans there, wrong! Cronulla fell over (as they so often do) and we left before the final whistle - mainly because I was sick and tired of Mundine's antics after scoring a try. 'The reef HQ' - an aquarium in town was well worth the look. They had a coral reef growing in a huge tank that you could walk around, plus displays of turtles, sharks and the like. Castle Hill in the middle of the town provided great views from a variety of lookouts at the top. The whole of the town beach esplanade is being rebuilt from last year's severe storms. Linz spent quite a bit of time chatting to a group of young, fit, tanned Poms in the camp who were making money labouring on the Esplanade. We visited the 'Town Common' where we observed many different birds including a bustard - rare these days. We also disturbed a mob of about 20 feral pigs, and Linz with no rifle or dogs!
Bowen: we left Townsville later than we intended so we decided to overnight in Bowen, after pulling off the highway for a coffee. The entrance to the town is dominated by an ugly salt works. But, what a great town. Massively wide streets, enough to turn an 18 bullock team. Accommodation was fairly full due to school holidays, but we found a site at Rose Bay Caravan Park. Highly recommended. Very well run by Merilyn, even the men's toilets had fresh flowers. A sunbird had built a cobweb and twig nest on a clothesline in the carport and it spent all day hanging there, swinging in the breeze. Our view was of islands in the Whitsunday Passage and coconut palms, we ate one fresh - yum.
moonlight at Bowen
- from the camp looking east across Whitsunday Passage at Gloucester Island
We had a day's fishing among the outer Whitsunday Islands on the MV Moruya. An early start saw us driving to trés touristy Airlie Beach and Shute Harbour to catch the boat. While fish were caught they weren't keepers. In fact no-one among the 25 people fishing caught anything to keep. Full moon and king tides might not have helped, but the next night we caught an eel and a most tasty bream (pronounced brim) off the Bowen wharf.
the Bowen wharf
We swam, we lazed, we watched the Grand Final at Queen's Beach Hotel. Well done Storm! We enjoyed Bowen so much that we kept rolling over the nights in the camping ground - something they are apparently used to.
Our neighbours introduced themselves as 'ferals' - Scott and Rikki. They are anti-Jabiluka uranium mine, save the forest, tree hugging hippies. They were picking fruit and veg for a living. During a discussion of the signs in the toilets asking campers to conserve water, Scott proclaimed his disgust at the park owner for letting all the old trees die, but for the want of a little water... and it was the tree towering over their caravan that bore testament to his claim that simply peeing on the trunk, as he had done for a couple of weeks each morning, could restore life and stimulate the growth of new leaves... look, he says, new leaves on those branches! Linz knocks the wind from his sails when he asks, politely, whether it might have something to do with the fact that it is Spring? Undeterred, Scott continued his daily ritual of piddling on the tree trunk.
Scott and Rikki at Bowen
Mackay: a short drive and we were at Colin's niece's place. A wet, miserable, grey old day was spent driving around the town and the wharves. The Vectra received an impromptu saltwater shower on the breakwater. We drove out to Hay Point to see an enormous coal loading facility. On the way a young Queenslander tried to beat the traffic by turning onto the road in front of us and ended up very nearly hitting us head on. Several other total idiots convinced us that while Qld drivers were generally the worst we had seen anywhere in Australia, Mackay drivers could take the prize for being the worst. Mackay's major claim to fame is sugarcane. The roads are littered with the debris from the large trailers full of chopped cane being delivered to the mills. There are lots of very narrow gauge railway crossings running from the cane fields to the sugar mills.
under the house in Mackay
a sugar train
Moving on south through Rockhampton (Rockie), out to Yeppoon and up to Byfield National Park where we camped in the rainforest. Still wet; huge trees; a river with the fresh water equivalent of stone fish so be careful where you step in the water; and a group of teenagers who partied loudly all night. Probably a pleasant spot at the right time.
Gladstone: we decided not to drive too far after the lack of sleep at Byfield. Feeling extravagant we cooked chicken breast stuffed with strawberries and cream cheese, wrapped in fillo pastry and baked for 30 minutes in a snackmaker. We don't know how, but it worked. Gladstone is another large port, with an aluminium smelter - another sodium light city at night, and even a winery, but we weren't game to try tropical reds. It rained again, but tonight we had a cabin! Saw the Spirit of the Outback today, one of the major trains.
We drove on down the Bruce Highway through Miriam Vale, Childers, Maryborough and Gympie to Coolum Beach on the Sunshine Coast where the camping ground actually had tent sites near the beach in well-drained, shady locations. The Sunshine Coast starts at Noosa Heads and runs down to Caloundra. They are effectively the northern beaches of Brisbane and have the holiday apartments, motels, etc to match.
Moving south again, by the inlandish route through Landsborough, a brief visit to the Glass House Mountains - old volcanoes, through Caboolture and straight through Brisbane to David and Vicki's.
The Gold Coast: stayed with Colin's good friends Dave and Vicki, Ashley, Jane, two poodles and a demented Balinese cat. We had a day out on 'Tiana' - their 26' launch. Caught dinner off South Stradbroke Island. Caught up with Jocelyn, an old friend, and watched her son, Simon, playing in Fiji's first game in the Rugby World Cup. Went to Movie World and rode 'Lethal Weapon': the roller coaster that has you upsidedown five times. We took the train up to Brisbane, so we didn't have to worry about the parking. Met up with a bear friend, Ian, from Canberra. We had a pleasant stroll around the town, dinner in the 'Valley' and got home at a reasonable hour. A drive around the Indi race course, a stroll around the spit, two more roaded tyres for the Vectra and off, five days later, to the home State.
a Gold Coast sunset
Nimbin: turned off the Pacific Highway at Murwillumbah to a beautiful green valley. Nimbin is a town stuck in the seventies after hippies moved in for the Aquarius festival in the '70's. The shops are all painted in psychedelic and/or aboriginal themes and the great unwashed are everywhere. A very "relaxing" night.
the town of Nimbin
Another big push off the main highway through Lismore, Casino, Grafton, Glenreagh and rejoining the Pacific Highway at Coffs Harbour and on to Port Macquarie where we visited Colin's brother. After replacing one of the roaded tyres (trying six different places) we made the big push for home. We survived getting through Sydney and, heading down the Hume Highway, decided to have one more night away at a camping site we use regularly out at the upper Shoalhaven River near Braidwood. Michael and Alan joined us from Canberra to celebrate our arrival home 16,200 kms later. The last night under nylon, a large fire and lots of reminiscences.
the last camp at the Upper Shoalhaven River