The business of Caravanning!
Our first night on the Road
The days where we grabbed a two men tent and a single gas bottle and took off around Australia, are definitely gone!
We have now advanced from a pop-up trailer camper to a 5-star version, or how we call it in Oz, “the real mccoy”!.
Life in Freshwater has not been the same since the new caravan arrived. Traffic in our street has come to a halt for 30 minutes at a time, while Austin tries to back the 4-wheeler into our "tiny” driveway. There has been a constant flow of delivery vans dropping off all kinds of extra parts, tools and generators etc, all highly necessary for our survival according to our caravan-savvy neighbour. And last not least, the preparation to actually get going, has kept Austin busy for the last few weeks.
I am sure, there will come a time during the next few months when I will actually be grateful for Austin's thoroughness, but at present I feel a little overwhelmed.
Oh, yes! And there is the new car which had to be purchased to tow our rolling motel. Its a Ford Ranger, a mixture between truck and tradesmen’s work car. You climb up suspended on a handle for that purpose, and slide out, hoping you land gracefully on your outstretched toes - definitely not “female-friendly".
Unfortunately, while Austin's shoulder was in a sling after surgery, I had to do all the driving of, what I call, “The Beast". Gradually I learned to negotiate tight corners in car parks and backing into parking spaces while Austin feigned heart attacks and bystanders were holding their breath.
Finally, we are all packed up and Austin’s shoulder is fit enough to take over the wheel. So off we go on our trip to the far North and the Red Centre!
On the road again….
Professionally piloted out of our driveway by our housemate Nina, we left Sydney under blue skies going westwards. The blue mountains were glistening in sunlight and there was no traffic to speak off. Taking it easy we arrived at Wellington Caves Caravan Park late afternoon and could take our pick of a suitable site. It seemed that most people there were staying in cabins. Funny that! During the night we realised why there were very few caravans and no tents whatsoever. The temperature hit -1℃ and we were grateful for our little heater which ran all night.
Compared to this the caves which we visited the next morning were a ‘balmy’ 17℃ ! We loved the Fossil caves, discovered in the early 19th century by George Rankin and Thomas Mitchell (the one the highway is named after).
We liked the story of a German scientist who at beginning of WWI returned to Germany, leaving his two teenaged sons behind to dig out more fossils. Taking their sweet time instead of getting on with it, they decided to use
explosives rather than a pickaxe. The only problem was, that one of them used the explosives without the other one being aware and almost killed him. They didn’t talk much to each other for the rest of their lifes, but they did get some fossils out and to Germany where they are still exhibited in a Munich museum. We learned also that once upon a time Australia had it’s very own enormous marsupial lion, Thylacoleo, and even a rhino called Diprotodon proving that a long time ago we were connected with the African continent.
Our next stop is Dubbo where we had planned to free-camp in a vineyard in return for some wine tasting/ purchase. But after the frost last night, the need for a powered caravan site, where we can use our heater, won over the love of wine. So we are heading for Dubbo Midstate Caravan Park instead!
Dubbo
The two “must see” things in Dubbo are the Western Plains Zoo and the Old Dubbo Gaol. Although we have seen both twice before, we revisited them again.
In the forecourt of the gaol, a very enthusiastic young girl in period costume told us funny stories about failed escapes of former prisoners. One released prisoner actually climbed over the wall back into prison to bring his former cellmate a bottle of wine - that’s sooo Aussie! Poor guy was convicted of breaking into prison and bringing in an illegal substance. He got another 6 months inside for it and the warden got the bottle of wine!
If ever one of the animals of Dubbo Zoo would be “released”, I think they would also climb back in. Their enclosures are so spacious and well designed for their needs and their diet so well balanced, they would be stupid not to!
Here are some of them. These photos, taken by Austin, are especially for our grandchildren, Jaxon and Iliana (and for Nina who asked for them).
Baby Elephant
This little baby elephant is called Sabai. His birth weight was
101 kg! Sabai means in Thai “peaceful, relaxed, comfortable”.
Another interesting fact is that an adult elephant produces 100kg of dung per day!
Here is a birdie for Ili, because she loves birds. It’s called a superb fairy wren. And this tiger is for Jaxon because he can climb and jump like a tiger.
Lightning Ridge
After three nights of below zero temperatures we were sufficiently climatised to try the free camping in Coonamble on our way to Lightning Ridge.
We stayed in the Coonamble show ground, the site for agricultural shows, rodeos, greyhound and horse races. The camping area was close to the horse cages and a whole lot of horse manure. Nothing like fresh country air!
As going to bed was the only way to keep warm, we had an early night.
The next morning we walked through town, taking us all but 5 minutes, and discovered the Nickname Hall of Fame, a series of caricatures of local characters.
Heading north along the inland road things looked more and more like “the Outback”. The paddocks were parched and due to drought there hasn’t been any crop planting this year. Cattle was grazing on the dried out growth at the side of the road. Occasionally they carelessly crossed to the other side undeterred by approaching cars. Everywhere along the roadside lay the grotesque bodies of dead kangaroos. Quite a few emus looked at us google eyed from within fenced cattle ranges. 
After a couple of hours drive Stanley, the Emu, made out of VW parts, welcomed us to Lightning Ridge. This is the town of the black opal, as a matter of fact, it is the only area of the world where the black opal is found!
The name, Lightning Ridge, apparently originated from severe lightning strikes which killed a shepherd, his dog and 600 sheep in 1870.
Luckily during our stay, there was no cloud in the sky and we were only struck by the strange surroundings of turned up gravel mounds interspersed with mineshaft, hoists, tin sheds and rusty, old truck chassis. 
On the first evening we watched the spectacular outback sunset from "Nettleston’s First Shaft”, an old mine on top of a hill.
Someone, maybe Nettleston, had used rocks from the mine to build a maze. Nearby stands a house built totally from discarded beer cans and bottles, an ongoing project, it seems, as a sign asks for donations of bottles and cans (full or empty!)
Here are more impressions of this weird and wonderful town “The Ridge”, as locals call it:
A mine shaft. The chambers of the Black Hand Mine with a couple of the 700 carvings from a miner turned artist...
and a BS-artist turned miner…
There are 5 different self-guided tours around town, all designated by coloured car doors. There is a yellow car door tour, a green, a blue and a red one. We did them all, but gave the orange one being an outback pub crawl spanning almost a 100km a miss!
“Amigo’s Castle”.
Amigo is the nickname given to an Italian miner who built this stone castle single handedly without machinery. Part of the castle is 2 stories high for which he used scaffolding made out off oil drums and timber slats. In 2001 the Greens took Amigo to the supreme court for disturbing the natural habitat by removing rocks from the surrounding area. The court decided, that he only “repositioned" the stones and threw the case out.
Then a little later the shire council decided that Amigo had only a mining, but not a residential lease and wanted the castle demolished. There was such an uproar in the community, including media interest, that the council had to bow to local pressure and instead heritage listed the castle. We met charming Amigo who loves boot scooting wearing a Mexican hat. Therefore the name “Amigo”.
Red-winged parrot.
A dip in the Artesian Bore Water Pool is a must in Lightning Ridge. It is quite a challenge to get in! The water temperature is 42℃! But once in it is very relaxing.
Great for a good night’s sleep.
St. George, QLD
Our attempts of opal fossicking in Lightning Ridge were disappointing! We only found 2 small rocks with tiny opal speckles, hardly visible to the naked eye. So we decided to cut our losses and move on.
About an hour from Lightning Ridge we crossed the border to Queensland and drove into Hebel. Almost instantly we felt the warming Queensland sun and changed for the first time into shorts and short sleeves. It was just the right climate to join a group of travellers in front of the old Hebels Hotel for one of the famous Queensland XXXX beers. The hotel originates from 1880 and used to be a changing station for Cobb & Co horse drawn coaches. Some colourful paintings of emus, flowers and sheep decorate the front of the hotel, some painted by Lightning Ridge artist John Murray, who some Aussies may know from his painting of Tony Abbott in “Budgy smugglers”.
As the temperature hit 25℃, we just sat back enjoying the sun and watching the passing traffic - a truck or car about every 2 minutes. A busy day on the road in the outback! The truck drivers were looking longingly at our beers and relaxed state.
We contemplated the history of this 1 street-, 1 pub-, 1 general store- town. Having once housed 2 members of the infamous Kelly Gang (horse thieving bushrangers), Dan Kelly and Steve Hart, it used to be called “Kelly’s Point”.
And then it was lunchtime and we thought 'we might as well stay for the good Hebel's pub-lunch’.
Our stop for the night was St. George, a nice little township on the Balonne River. The air was filled with the twitter of birds of all kind: parrots, galahs, honey eaters etc. plus flocks of cockatoos. The scene of the tree-lined river, quacking ducks and the setting sun reflected in the water reminded us of boating in France and Bastille Day, which most of our boating friends would celebrate on one or the other canal on this day. So after a walk along the river we had our own little celebration with a glass of red (at least in my case), some camembert and French fig jam (thanks to our friend, Jane). Hope all you boat friends had a good one! We miss you!
The following morning the long awaited rain came and the people of St. George were smiling. A good time for us to visit the “Unique Egg”. It was a truely amazing experience seeing those delicately carved Emu eggs by Stavros Margaritis and hearing his story. He taught himself wood carving in Greece and then discovered the layers of natural colour in an Emu egg here in Australia.
He even met Barrack Obama and gifted one of his creations to him. Apart from decorative patterns, eggs feature major sporting and world events, Australian fauna and flora. Just very special!
Roma
On our way to Roma we stopped at Surat to see the Cobb & Co Museum. The former changing station for the Cobb & Co company is filled with memorabilia of times when travel in the horse drawn coaches was both, an expensive luxury and a very uncomfortable, rocky ride. 
Stations were placed every 25km apart- a long way on the dry dirt roads while sitting on a wooden bench! Each station had a so called “groom" who would groom, feed and water the 8-10 drawing horses and exchange those which were too exhausted to carry on with one of the reserve animals he kept. 
Settlers excitedly looked out for the lights of arriving coaches. (See the poem by Henry Lawson “The lights of Cobb & Co”.) The coachman not only delivered mail, but also amusing stories, news and gossip.
After grooming our " Beast” and feeding it with diesel, we were on our way to Roma. I falsely believed the town got its name from Italian settlers, but in fact it was named after the Italian wife of a governor.
This unassuming town is the cradle of Australias oil and gas industry, a very rocky cradle at that, as it took 7 decades of drilling and failures to hit success or “pay dirt”. “The Big Rig”, one of the towns main attractions, explains all about this history in a nightly light show documentation, well worth a visit.
What makes this town special for me are the amazing 800 or so bottle trees.
Near Bungil Creek is Roma’s biggest bottle tree which does invite tree-huggers!
Impressive is the “Avenue of Heroes” which reminded us a little of our “Soldiers Avenue” in Freshwater. In front of each of the bottle trees lining the avenue is a dedication to a specific fallen soldier. Each Primary school class adopts a tree and learns all about the soldier. On ANZAC Day the children walk along the avenue and lay wreaths at their trees.
Apart from cold seam gas and oil, “cattle" is the word here in Roma, and tomorrow morning Austin and I will go to Australias largest cattle selling centre, the Roma Saleyards. After enthusiastically insisting, that I wanted to go there, I had second thoughts, thinking of “who the buyers would be”!? Although I am not a vegan the idea of the poor beasts being selected by the Akubra wearing Grim Reapers, made me shudder. Luckily I saw, that tomorrow is a "store sale", where cattle is selected for breeding purposes and fattening up. So I can deceive myself, that its not that bad…..
Sunrise at Roma this morning.
Holy Cow!
Not so holy here at Roma salesyard, I am afraid! In this huge salesyard, spanning almost 123 acres, up to 12,000 head of cattle are sold in one day.
When we arrived at 8.30am, we could hardly understand our guides, farmers Jim and Jeff, over all the mooing. The most noise came from the young calves having been caged separately from their mothers. A cruel but necessary step, we were told.
And then the auctions of the diverse herds started with vendor agents presiding the bidding which proceeded with astonishing speed. Obviously, the buyers had been there early to check out the stock.
If single beasts didn’t match up, they were dabbed with a brush of yellow or blue paint, to be sold per head later on. The purchased herds of cows, heifers, calves and bulls were then herded from cage to cage through so-called “slammers”, gates slamming shut behind them, until they reached the scales. Herds sell by cents per kilogram - Jim threatened to put us on the scales, but thought, he wouldn’t get very much for us!
And this was the main aim of todays “Store Sale”, to purchase stock for fattening up, and some bulls for breeding purposes.
When I heard that a breeding bull could fetch up to $5000, I made a quick calculation looking at Austin, who thinks himself being such a “stud”! I decided against the sale, thinking of the cost of replacing my driver, mechanic and tourist guide, next to some other qualifications.
Carnarvon Gorge
What nature has created here, over millions of years, is one of the most wonderful landscapes I have seen in Australia.
We arrived at Sandstone Park, a camping area free of the usual ammenities, porta- loos only, just before sunset.
Sandstone Park is a grassy plateau where the choice of a camping spot is only marked by a few stakes in the ground and scattered fire pits. From there a 360 degree view of the Gorge and the Great Dividing Range gives the feeling of being on nature’s stage. Once we were set up, the sandstone cliffs took on a pinkish-purple colour in the setting sun.
Our closest neighbours were 20 metres to either side. We were soon invited, after Austin more or less invited himself, to join Peter, Robyn, Sharon and Barry around a cosy fire.
The next morning we took off on the main walking track which extends 19 km into the gorge.
We decided to walk 15km of it, which included 4 side tracks, many, many steps up and down and 6 river crossings, all very well maintained.
If the main track was already delivering amazing views, the attractions of the side excursions were breathtaking: there was Moss Valley with waterfall and moss-covered rocks, Ward’s canyon full of fern trees and the unique to this area King Ferns.
The Amphitheatre, only accessible via steep ladders and the Art Gallery, one of the many sites of Aboriginal Art in this National Park.`
The amphitheatre only revealed itself after walking through a deep rock crevice. Suddenly we were surrounded by 60 metre cliffs in a circle of mere 15 metres in diameter.
Every one of these places had their own unique plant life and rock features.
The Art Gallery with its Aboriginal stencilling.
The Carnarvon Gorge landscape looks like something from "Jurassic Park”. After all, in between the huge gum trees and fan palms are cycads which existed in abundance in Triassic and Jurassic times.
During a nature talk we attended in the evening we learned that the white seed within the cycad's brightly orange flowers are full of cyanide.
Kangaroos and wallabies like to eat these flowers, but are clever enough to just nibble away the petals and drop the seed, thus hopefully planting a new tree. These cycads take a few hundred years to grow to a decent size.
Among the dainty Australian bush flowers we found native hibiscus and the white finger orchid.
We would have liked to do a guided night walk to see the yellow bellied gliders, owls and echidnas, but temperatures dropped again to 1 degree, and once Austin got the fire going it was too hard for us wimps to move away.
The Gem Fields
Before leaving Carnarvon Gorge something went wrong with our fridge. Just when we hoped to head to warmer latitudes, this! We spent the drive to Emerald madly phoning Caravan, Caravan repair and qualifying plumbing companies. Finally, in the late afternoon, we found a business who would be able to help us - on Monday - in Mackay! Feeling we had no choice, we made our way slowly towards Mackay, saying good bye to our aspiration of finding a sapphire or ruby in the gem fields of the so aptly named towns Sapphire and Rubyvale.
Halfway towards the coast, during our afternoon nap at a rest stop, Austin had an epiphany! He googled for a while and then found the problem was simply caused by a temperamental circuit board and just needed the electrics resetting; “Eureka”! The fridge gave us the green light. So we turned around immediately driving the 200+ km back to the gem fields, and organised a fossicking tour for the next morning.
8.30 am sharp, Keith and his dog turned up in a dust-covered ute. We and another three hopeful couples followed him in our cars to his claim about 20km west. Bouncing over a rugged dirt road we saw several caravans scattered around the gravel covered bushland. Apparently anyone can get a fossicking permit for a 30mx30m claim for approximately $14.-, valid for 3 months. However the permit prevents people from putting up any permanent dwelling, so a caravans or a lean-to has to do. 
A couple from a nearby caravan joined us as we were handed pick axes,shovels and buckets, and were pointed each to an area to start with our quest. We were astonished that sapphires could be found just a few centimetres under the topsoil in a sand/gravel layer. Soon we were covered in dust and mud as we shovelled gravel into buckets, fed it into a trommel, separating dirt from rocks, and from there into sieves for the wash. I had seen a sign on the way saying”Willy Wash”, but Austin thought it was rude and didn’t let me take a photo. Now I found out, that the washing tub for the gravel is called a “willoughby”! Phew, that explains it!
The excitement starts when flipping the gravel filled sieves over onto a sack cloth. Apparently the sapphires will then be laying on the top, sparkling like glass in the sunlight. W
e were thrilled to find a few tiny specks from our first bucket load. Can you see it?!
We now have a very small plastic bag full of mini gems. Unfortunately none were of a cuttable seize, sorry Lisa, Julie and Nina!
We also visited an underground mine and some of the many, many gem shops in the area to see what the real thing looks like! 
Some people have next to their gem shop a little side business, like the Austrian of the “Muggachino Strudel Hut”, who offers delicious home-made apple, cherry or rhubarb strudels. A sign in the garden cafe says: "Don’t steal! The government doesn’t like competition!” I don’t know whether the “mugga” in muggachino refers to that, or to the excellent coffee in a mug?
After observing locals and travelling fossickers, we could well imagine that there is an addictive side to waiting for the next bucket of dirt to reveal a rock of big fortune.
Even we had to have another go at it on the morning we left the gem fields. The caravan park had a fossicking area, where for $10 you got a bucket of gravel and the sieves for washing the rocks. We got another few little green sapphire bits and off we went down the Highway back to the city of Emerald.
Mackay - Sugar cane capital
You might be astonished to read that we are in Mackay after all! Well when we left Anakie, our fridge decided to play up again. We had heard many times, that a new caravan is almost as much trouble as a boat can be. 
Passing the small country town of Clermont we saw a replica piano in a tree, where in 1916 after a flood that destroyed the city and killed 65 people, a real piano was found. The railroad put Clermont on the map and was serving the huge mining and farming industry. 
Decommissioned carriages, next to the old railway station have been painted by a local artist Glen Gillard with farming and mining scenes. He repaints the murals every 5 years and his quirk is, to hide somewhere within each painting a little green tree frog, for locals and visitors to find!
We then stopped at Emerald the town of sunflowers, and no, van Gough hasn’t been here. Heading down the Gregory and Peak Downs “Highways", which in Australian terms means simply a straight, tarred road with plenty of potholes and undefined side boarders, we found ourselves back at the rest stop where we had a nana nap 3 days ago. Only this time 5 caravans were stationed there, and a camp fire in progress. Everybody who is someone in Grey-Nomads-terms seems to have a fire pit. We stayed the night and drove into Mackay the next morning.
We had been here about 18 months ago and we like the sugar cane capital with its palm trees and clean streets. An extra bonus is that Austin’s cousin Beverly and her husband Bob live here. We had a lovely get-together at an Italian restaurant with a mile-long menu and delicious home-made gelato. (I had the nutella gelato, yum!)
While the part for our fridge was ordered, we walked along Blue Water Lagoon and visited the harbour and Marina, thinking of our boat, the “Freshwater” with some melancholy.
Sickly sweet
We were only a few kms north of Mackay when we saw a sign saying “Sugar Mill Tours”. Having never been in a sugar mill and Austin loving his sweets, we followed the signs through sugar cane fields with anticipation! Arriving at the mill, where a small tour group was already assembled, we were issued with hairnets, safety helmets, ear plugs and those brightly coloured construction worker jackets which we wore over our mandatory long-sleeved tops and long slacks.
Entering the mill I wondered, if any of the gear was a necessity or just a farce of today's OH & S requirements. The mill looked like a third world factory or at least a construction of bygone times. It was actually built 130 years ago and, in spite of some renovations and replacements over time, it showed. 
I can’t really “sugar coat” the fact that walking around the cane crushers, boilers and distillers across wet and sticky metal floors we didn’t feel entirely safe. Everything was covered with dust from the cane crushers, some structures looked a little rusty and patch-worked together. I didn’t get the hairnets part at all, however, would have liked non-slip shoes and a gas mask, as the smell, a mixture of rotting hay and sticky toffee, was quite sickening. We definitely needed the ear plugs, well most of us, Austin just adjusted his hearing aids, although this also blocked out some of the tour guides explanations.
And yet, it was still a worth while learning experience. This mill, together with another two of the Mackay area crush 5,3 million tonnes of sugar cane a season. Seven tonnes of cane produce 1 tonne of raw sugar. Australia produces about 45 million tonnes per year of which 85% is exported.
We all know the cane fires, so necessary in earlier times to rid the fields of rodents and soften the sharp stalks. Nowadays with improved pest control and machine cutting of the cane this is rarely done. The cane arrives in wire carriages of long trains which are then loaded onto the belt going to a weighing bridge.
Diverse crushers and centrifuges processes the cane leaving dust and fibres covering everything. Eventually a mud-like substance is separated from the molasses. Some of the lower grade molasses goes e.g. to Bundaberg Rum while molasses being further heated, spun and crystallised ends up as raw sugar.
Having tasted various grades of molasses we came away quite hot and sticky and were glad to drop our “safety gear” and be on our way to Airlie Beach. Whether this “sickly-sweet” experience does anything to cure Austin’s sweet tooth is yet to be seen.
We had to wait for cows, kangaroos, emus crossing, but this wide load went across the entire highway! Luckily there was a bay at the side of the road to pull over!
The Whitsundays
After the gem fields didn’t give us the desired result, we finally found a real jewel: Airlie Beach! Already on approach the place sparkled in it’s setting of forested hills and islands. Apart from a few fallen trees there was no evidence that only recently cyclone Debbie had raged across this area.
The Whitsunday Islands were named by Captain Cook after the Christian “White Sunday”, the day of his arrival. However what Cook didn’t realise was that he had crossed the time zone and it was in fact Monday here!
We were thrilled to find, just 2 km from town, a nice caravan park with a reasonable price. At 7am in the morning we realised why the camp fees were so low: right beside us was a runway from which one tourist plane after the other took off with a loud roar. But it was ok, because except of the whistling “baby cry” of the bush stone curlews and the usual chainsaw next to me, the nights were quiet.
On recommendations of our caravan park manager, we booked in for a day of sailing and snorkelling on the “Derwent Hunter”, a 70 year old tall ship built of blue gum, Tasmanian oak and huon pine. Of the 30 odd passengers on board at least 9 were Germans, there were French Canadians, Dutch, English and even a few Aussies. Indiscriminately we were all put to work hoisting the sails as we were making our way towards Hook island. The crew were great fun and gave us informative talks about the ships interesting history i
n research and film, and of course the wildlife. We learned that dolphins play with puffer fish and get “high” on their poison. Turtle females are very selective in whom they mate with, and parrot fish chew off the hard coral, so the sand around the reefs is largely parrot fish poo!
The crew took us in tenders to the reef along the west coast of Hook Island. We had a wonderful hour of snorkelling at each of two locations. The corals here were more colourful and varied than we had previously seen. 
There were clams, sea cucumbers, anemones, soft and hard coral and a variety of coral fish.
At the second location were bigger fish, rock lobsters, coral trout - we even saw a huge manta ray and a big sea turtle, which, as our skipper said, might have been already around when Captain Cook sailed in!
On the way back to Airlie Beach, to our delight a whale mother and calf made a playful appearance. Of course we visited Airlies great Abell Point Marina and marvelled at the beautiful and luxurious boats.
Most of them would have dwarfed our “Freshwater”. We also to checked out the newly purchased catamaran of a Sydney acquaintance. Luckily a representative of the boats leasing agency was around. He gave us a tour of the ultra modern saloon, galley and the three bedrooms with ensuite bathrooms. It was absolutely amazing!
Townsville
Just a short stop in Townsville to meet up with Aidan, the son of Austin’s cousin Beverly. Aidan is in his third year of studying pharmacy. This was the first time we actually met Aidan, and we instantly liked him.
Astonishing how the city has changed since we were there 38 years ago! Most of Australias military is conglomerated in Townsville.
The town has probably quadrupled in seize.
We were lucky that the 2017 “Ephemera”, an exhibition of sculptures along “The Strand”, was in town. Here are some of what we saw:
Above is real - not part of the expo!!! Needless to say, we didn’t go for a dip!
Below section of the beach must be considered safe - between the flags!!!- In spite of the stinger warning right in the middle!
Ingham
Our next stop was at the “Tyto Wetlands” in Ingham where we found a beautiful camp site. The name “Tyto” comes from the tyto owl or grass owl, the only owls which lay their eggs in the grass.
Even though the town is in decline and many shops are vacant, this area has been beautifully preserved with a modern interactive wildlife/tourist centre, a boardwalk, art gallery and restaurant overlooking the lily covered ponds. 
All kinds of tropical and subtropical birds were feasting there: ibises, egrets, ducks, blue-winged forest kingfishers, red crested jacanas, willie wagtails etc...When people walk over the boardwalks an army of turtles popped their heads out off the water and scurried forward trying to climb the lily-pads. Obviously they were being fed by some locals.
We did the obligatory town walk to find the famous “Pub with no beer”, where farmer Dan Sheahan penned the poem after riding 20 miles for a beer, but the pub had run out! Call it a pub-with-no-beer-phobia, but I don’t think there is an Aussie who doesn’t know the “Pub with no beer” song by Slim Dusty! The actual building was not what we expected and had been turned into a 60th motel after falling into disrepair.
However, nearby Mercer Lane was well worth seeing. It’s mosaic walls tell the history of Ingham. In the twenties and fifties many Italians settled in Ingham to work on the sugar plantations.
Since then, Italian families have bought many sugar farms and opened up other businesses. The town is proud of it’s Italian heritage and good Italian cuisine.
Once a year an Italian Festival takes place, which happened to be on the weekend after our arrival. Unfortunately - or fortunately- the stay at the wetlands is limited to two nights, and so we just had a quick walk through the festival after it opened at 10 am. It was difficult to ignore the stalls with pasta dishes, Italian small goods, wines and sweets.
We just allowed ourselves some ricotta-nutella cannoli and coffee and left quickly for our waistline’s sake!
Forty-nine kilometres inland from Ingham is the Wallaman waterfall which is Australias highest single drop fall, plunging down 268m. The drive to the fall led through large sugar cane fields and mango orchards. Then a winding road climbed up the mountain through lush rain forrest of ferns, palms and umbrella trees. We were sorry, we weren’t better prepared for a walk, otherwise we would have attempted the steep descend to the bottom of the fall and back up again, which some bushwalkers told us is spectacular.
Mission Beach to Cairns
We have never driven this far north before, but we are falling in love with North Queensland!
Saying this, our love doesn’t extend to the North Queensland Cowboys. We are still Manly Sea Eagles fans and proved it by daring to enter a pub at Mission Beach and demanding to see the Sea-eagles game!
The landscape here is absolutely amazing! From undulating farmland to lush rainforest extending across the mountainous background, the scenery is just stunning. Of course the cane fields still persist but banana plantations draw a close second. They don’t grow them in pyjamas though, sorry Jaxon and Ili, but in what seems like sleeping bags.
We enjoyed some really great walks with amazing sights behind every corner. There were the rock slides at Crystal Creek near Townsville. The Young and the Careless use the water cascades to slide down the smooth rocks or take daring jumps into the sparkling rock pools. More water fun was to be had at Josephine Falls and “the Boulders” near Babinda.
Around Mission Beach the rainforest is stunning and I particularly liked the Licuana Fan Palm Forest.
This area is also cassowary country.
On one of our walks we came across a nest with eggs.
A cassowary was keeping a watchful eye from his hiding place in the bush nearby. Disregarding my concern, Austin, of course, to have a closer look. It was amazing how fast he could run when the protective cassowary charged him. Only a nearby clearing stopped the ratite in his tracks and saved him from being attacked. 
A short inland drive from Mission Beach is Paronella Park where the Spanish immigrant, Joe Paronella built his dream: a castle in midst of a 5 ha park. He also installed in 1933 Queensland's first hydro electric plant which still powers the area including the adjoining caravan park and nearby hotel. 
His is a romantic story which makes the castle, now in ruins due to floods, cyclones and fire, come alive.
After walking above the tree tops on the Mamu Skywalk where we happened to see the dance of a juvenile rifle bird, a very rare sighting, we ended up in the small township of Babinda.
Above the rifle bird showing off in front of two females,
and a pale yellow robin.
Below the falls and suspension bridge at Paronella park lit up during our night tour.
Cairns
There were a few tense moments in and around Babinda, before we left for Cairns. A. We spotted a flock of whistling kites circling over a fenced, camouflaged area. When stopping next to it, I climbed up on the car to take a peak and saw what looked like dug outs for fisheries, while Austin was trying to snap some of the kites with his big lensed camera. Two men, one on a quad bike and one in a 4 wheel drive, suddenly approached us from the enclosure. 
They obviously worried about us being Greenies, as they explained it was a crocodile farm. I thought naively that croc farms had been eradicated in Australia, but obviously not, and although I am not a friend of the big lizards, the idea of such a wild creatures being reared in overcrowded basins for their meat and skin made me shudder.
On the last night, we went for a cold cider into the old Babinda Hotel. Austin was very brave inviting me for a game of darts. We hadn’t really played after I very nearly impaled him with a dart many years ago. I rewarded him by letting him win!
The next thing was that our fridge, having been “fixed” in Mackay started to play up again. Since our washing machine had never started to work either, we headed straight for Jayco in Cairns who fixed both problems in a flash. A new washer was installed and a new motherboard for our fridge, all still on warranty. Having “saved” money, I got a haircut and Austin an early birthday present, binoculars for our bird spotting, since our only other pair is still on the boat in the Netherlands.
The city of Cairns itself has developed from a tropical backpacker destination and springboard for excursions to the Barrier Reef to an international city with flair without loosing it’s relaxed atmosphere. Chic shops, cafes and restaurants can be found and along the Esplanade a quality arts and craft market takes place most days.
I liked the horizon pool at the waters edge, and so did obviously many kids and teenagers.
We didn’t spent much time in the city. Our caravan park, the best we had stayed in so far, was in a beautiful rainforest area, right next to the suburb “Freshwater”. We are also not far from Cairns’ “Northern Beaches”, so we are feeling right at home.
The Crystal Cascades, after which the caravan park is named, are just down the road. A good escape from the bustle of the city.
One day we spent in Kuranda village and visited the beautiful Butterfly Sanctuary. Even though the bright blue Ulysses butterfly is elusive and almost impossible to capture on camera, we saw many beautiful other ones fluttering around our heads, and sometimes settling on someones hat or a child’s hand. The most colourful one was the Cairns Birdwing butterfly.
Each butterfly has a specific plant it lays their eggs on. They can taste with their feet, if they landed on the right one. For the laboratory workers on site, who collect the eggs, it is easy to tell on hand of the plant, which butterfly genus the eggs belong to. The eggs are then cleaned from pests and held in safe environments from caterpillar to chrysalis. When the last skin is shed and the butterfly spreads it’s wings it is released into the flight aviary. 
Butterfly wings, by the way, have scales, which are of course so very much more tender than fish scales and they can only afford to loose a small amount of them, as they are unable to replace them.
We saw some other scaly things of a different matter lurking at the side of the Barron river. The little cruise boat took us along the heritage listed rainforest. Again the water was teaming with fish and turtles. Little swifts had made their nests in the sun roof of the boat and came flying in and out over our heads, very cute!
On our way back to the caravan, Austin made a special discovery: there is a Bunnings hardware here! Do I need to say more…???
"Johnson Freshwater Crocodile"
The Daintree
The Daintree Rainforest covers a vast area and is said to have evolved for 180 million years, thus being close to 170 million years older than the great Amazon. It makes sense then that some pre-historic creatures dwell here.
In the time since, we lost a few abilities; the crocodiles can survive loosing a limb by slowing down their heart rate to 2 beats per minute, giving their super blood clotting capability just enough time to heal their wounds. They use the same slow pulse technique to stay under water for up to 2 hours if needed. How cool would it be, if we could like a crocodile replace our teeth up to 44 times during a life span. Mind you, with a life expectancy of 100-150 years and their fierce jaw snapping, they probably need it. Having 30 to40 top and 30 to 40 bottom teeth, they can go through 3000 to 4000 teeth from birth to death.
The rain forest vegetation got more wonderful and weird the further North we headed. Massive trees bend and twist through the dense canapé for some sunlight. Their roots extending like wavy valances for metres along the forest floor. This creates a wide base to withstand the force of cyclones. 
The root buttresses also hold nourishing plant and animal droppings within. For the cassowaries and smaller birds, there is a lot of bush “Tucker” to be found: native plums, apple-like fruit and nuts.
Fascinating are all the climbers, vines and hanging baskets. So called “Epiphytes" like the basket, the elk horn and the bird’s nest ferns, survive attached to trees by trapping their own water and nutrients. A little eery are some of the mangrove swamps.
Right next to the Daintree river we found a great caravan park (See above). The reception and facilities are patched together from bits of wood and corrugated iron with old farming equipment dangling from it’s ceiling. From here we were only short drives away from Mossman Gorge and the ferry to Cape Tribulation.
We have been gorging ourselves on gorges! Every gorge we have seen so far had a different character, and all had crystal clear water. I couldn’t help myself, and having forgotten my swimsuit, jumped straight into the rock pool wearing my shorts and t-shirt.
Cape Tribulation has the most beautiful beaches, but again, swimming is not suggested due to the odd crocs and stingers.
So we had to cool ourselves by stopping at both of the Daintree Rainforest tropical ice cream outlets. The first one is run by an octogenarian. We had the rainforest one, made of lemon myrtle, organic vanilla, coconut, kale, spirulina and ginger, yum!!!
On the way back, we got the 4 flavour cup at the other ice creamery, including wattle seed and black sapote ice cream. Equally delicious!
Along with the ice cream there is some rather unusual food available in the Daintree. We saw some carnivorous mammals of the human variety devour a super seized tasting plate of boar, crocodile, camel, kangaroo, emu and buffalo burgers.
But Austin wasn’t interested - he was only interested in the local “birds”. Here’s some shots we took around the Daintree river.
Sacred
kingfisher
Great
egret
Royal
Spoonbill
Nankeen
night heron
Lookout on Cape Tribulation
Cooktown
Our last stop before Cooktown and the Cape was Lakeland, where we said goodbye to our “motel on wheels”. Lakeland is a strange little place with a coffeehouse seconding as general store, post office and service station and a hotel, of course!
The caravan park is split into two. One part is for the tourists and the storage of vans for travellers heading to the tip. The other is occupied by 40 odd back-packers, living in dongas and working on the banana plantations.
Being a Friday, the hotel soon filled up with a big group of backpackers spending part of their pay on beers and jaeger shots. A plate full of prawns, salad and rice could be purchased for $15 for those who were hungry.
The caravan park was terrorised by a young goose and, after dark, by multiple cane toads. One of the park employees, in between his beers, was chasing the cane toads down and killing them with a spate. They were just left there where they were squashed.
As the temperatures still dropped a bit at night (to a freezing 18 degrees), we sat for a while around the campfire, listening to some bush truths from the locals (comparable to seaman’s yarns!).
The next day the serious repacking from caravan to the car started. Boxes with tools, cooking utensils, swag, bedding - all needed to be packed into "the beast" for our 4 wheel drive trip up North. Some more cane toads lost their lives that night, before we stored our caravan in the early morning and headed off to Cooktown. 
On the way we stopped at Black Mountain, a very unusual site of a mountain covered in fragmented black granite. Short before Cooktown is the turn-off leading to the famous Lions Den Hotel at the end of the dreaded Bloomfield Track. The name of the pub originates from a stowaway in the 1820’s called Daniel who found himself working in the local mine. As he emerged from the tunnel opposite of the pub one of the miners called out: 'Daniel in the Lions Den!”. The name stuck.
Today the walls of the pub are covered with signatures and dust covered clothes of people who mastered the rough Bloomfield 4 wheel drive track. Even a wedding dress is among the memorabilia and was left to the pub by the grateful bride who spend her honeymoon there.
The best view over cooktown is from Grassy Hill Lookout, the very spot from where Captain Cook surveyed the area and realised with desperation, that the only way out of the bay and through the extensive reef is a small path to the North, provided a steady south-easterly is blowing!
Before landing here in June 1770 the HMS Endeavour ran aground on the Great Barrier Reef near Cape Tribulation. After days of scooping out water she was only just saved by fothering the hole with sail cloth, holding long enough to get her to shore for repairs.
Evidence of Cook’s arrival and stories of the original inhabitants of the area are displayed along the Esplanade and on the road to Grassy Hill. Looking at the faces of some of the Aboriginals in town, one wonders if the tourists are seen as a new invasion.
Cooktown is a nice little town full of character and we regretted not having planned a longer stay. But we registered to stay in the Lakefield National Park tomorrow night where our 4 wheel drive adventure to “the Tip" starts. So we might be off-line for a while. Watch this space to see how we went.
To the Top
Our water tank filled and tyre pressure lowered we took off via Lakefield National Park towards our first stop at Hann River Crossing. The first third of the road was bitumen and we were amazed how good the ensuing dirt road was until we met a corrugation grader, who obviously was sent to level the path for us!
The few river crossings on our way were a non event, as most of the riverbeds had all but dried out. At Isabella Falls we met a group of dirt bike riders, their shoulders, arms and derrieres already aching after their first day of travel. A support truck was following them with supplies and setting up camps for them on the way. 
Arriving at Hann River we found that our online booked campsite was 11 km from the road and from the only toilet in the area. The place was totally isolated and the riverbank was too close for comfort. So we backtracked along the narrow sand track to a better location with steeper river banks, inaccessible to the local crocs. As a matter of fact we were almost disappointed not to see a single one! We spent the first night in our swag, looking at the bright stars and were woken by a cacophony of bird sounds.
The next day the road became somewhat rougher, and when we hit the development road we were greatly obscured by red dust clouds from oncoming traffic and some mining trucks in front of us. Half blinded by the huge dust clouds we finally managed to overtake, thinking vindictively:”Eat my dust!”
We pitied the dirt bike riders who by this time were mostly riding in standing on their foot pegs and who were so indistinguishably covered in red dirt, that even their mothers wouldn’t have recognised them!
All along the road and within the sparsely wooded countryside we admired the art works of the wood chewing Australian termites. There were small, pointy termite hills and huge 2m spires. Some looked like fairy tale castles others like a group of elephants or people huddled together.
A sharp clang woke us out of our termite- hill- reverie! A fast passing 4-wheel drive had flicked a stone up cracking our windscreen. Not too bad though when you consider the tow trucks with broken down cars, snapped axles and punctured tyres we saw on our way.
We managed to get a windscreen repair kit at a place called Coen and continued on to Archer River Roadhouse for the night.
What a relief! Toilets, showers and semi-grassed areas for pitching our swag!
At night time we sat together with a nice group of people from all over Australia and a visitor from Austria exchanging stories and experiences.
Having been informed that Rio Tinto was building a new mine out off Weipa with an extra movement of 20 odd trucks per day, we decided to change our plans and skip the mining town on the gulf of Carpenteria
Instead we travelled further north. It was a real roller coaster ride with dips, potholes and steep ridges which could send a car flying if taken too fast. Austin proved himself as an excellent dirt road driver, and so we made it to Bramwell Station without incident.
From here the notorious Old Telegraph Road provides an extra challenge for the young and adventurous.
There is a tree at Bramwell Station decorated with number plates of all the unlucky cars which didn’t make it.
As we rolled up our swag in the morning, a strange creature crawled from underneath: a scorpion! Unaware that Australia has many kinds of scorpions, none of them being deadly, I panicked for a bit until Austin scared it away with his big camera lens.
We got pretty excited as we moved further towards the most northern point of Australia. Not wanting to end up on a tow truck with the rest of our trip ruined we only drove a few kms on the OTT (the Old Telegraph Track), but headed instead to Fruitbat Falls for a quick dip. The water was crystal clear and refreshing. Standing right under the fall we got a good back massage too! Plus we haven’t been this clean for days!
At lunchtime we arrived at the Jardine River and boarded the ferry to take us across.
Eventually, we arrived at Loyalty Beach, our camp for the next three days, only 30 kms of dirt track away from “The Tip”.
We put up our swag and just marvelled at the view! Needless to say, after such a long dusty road we had our “safe arrival” drink! Although we very nearly missed out, as purchase and consumption of alcohol is quite restricted on the Cape. At the drive through of nearby Bamaga Tavern, we were only allowed to buy a 4 pack of ciders or 2l of wine per car (they only had 2l casks of wine, honest!). So after Austin purchased his cider, I had to go back to the walk-in window and buy my wine.
Pitcher plants near fruit bat falls
Our camp site at sunset
Beautiful Fruit Bat Falls
Cape York - The Tip
Just before entering the camping ground at Loyalty Beach a sign points to a short cut to the tip, not referring to, as Austin initially thought, the rubbish tip, but to “The Tip”, the Northern most point of the continent.
Having come this far we were pretty excited to take on the last 30 km. The short cut was highly recommended to us as the usual road is currently very dry and corrugated. This side road is quite narrow and sandy, but softer on the suspensions - unless, you take "a short cut of the short cut" as we did! We felt like on a bucking bronco as our car rocked across rocks and ridges and the motor was churning away through the deep creek crossings.
We made it through and only afterwards found out, that we had taken a wrong turn and entered an area where cars are known to get bogged. But there is just too much expertise in this team! Although Austin doesn’t let me touch the steering wheel, my job is being a “dipo-meter”: the deeper the dip or pothole, the higher my voice as I shriek:”diiiip!”
Finally we arrived and climbed the rocky outcrop to The Tip. Of course we were not the only ones! People take their time to soak in the amazing view and take many photos and selfies on the point. We were lucky that we didn’t go yesterday, as a couple from our camping ground took the plunge right there - an impromptu wedding with a small group of close friends.
Torres Strait Islands
Not knowing much about the Torres Strait Islands, we decided to pop over for a visit. We jumped aboard a catamaran and were ferried across the deep turquoise coloured waters to Thursday Island, affectionately called “TI” by the locals.
Incidentally, there is also a Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday Island, all named by Captain William Bligh after being set adrift here by Fletcher Christian.
TI is a very small island, but has the largest population with 3000+ inhabitants. The Torres Strait Islands administration departments are based here. The island gained importance in the mid 19th century through the pearl fishing industry.
The Torres Strait Islanders are very different from the mainland Aboriginals. Being of Melanesian origin they are taller and have different facial features.
Staples of the Torres Strait Islanders were crayfish, turtles and dugong. Nowadays, the killing of turtles and dugong is restricted to 1 per family and for special celebrations only. While the Aboriginals are nomadic hunters and gatherers, the Torres Strait Islanders are cultivators. Unlike the indigenous people of mainland Australia history was passed on through song and dance rather than through cave paintings.
The second island we visited was Horne Island.
After Darwin, Horne Island was the second most bombed place by the Japanese in WWII. Our tour guide for this island took us to the former military air base which now serves as the Torres Strait Islands airport. It accommodates small planes like footballer Jonathan Thurston’s airline Skytrans and Qantas whose smallest plane, a 74 seater, flies there twice daily.
Recent painting of a local legend
(Horne Island Historic Museum)
Machine gun post from WWII
On the boat ride back from the islands we saw a huge crocodile sunning itself opposite Loyalty Beach where we were camped. After having seen pictures of a croc-mutilated body in the Horne Island Museum this wasn’t conducive to a good night’s sleep, particularly because Austin insisted that I sleep on the beach side of the swag.
Heading back down, Cape York Peninsula
It was time to roll up our water front villa and leave “the top of the world".
We decided to head west and check out Weipa on the Gulf of Carpentaria after all. This township was established when in the 1950s a geologist discovered that the area was rich in bauxite. When mining started in the early 60s the company CAMALCO built houses for the mine workers and the city grew from there. In those early times there were 5000 male workers to 9 female workers. The females must have become very good in running!? We were told that they had to be escorted to and from the mess halls by police.
(Sunset in Weipa)
Today the balance of the sexes is quite different and female machine operators are revered as having a softer and more accurate touch than most of their male co-workers. In 2000 the company Rio Tinto/Alcan bought CAMALCO out.
As security is tight, nowadays the only access to the mines is via tour bus. If a rogue tourist car accidentally enters the mining area, it can bring proceedings to a halt for up to an hour. This wouldn’t make the workers too happy as they work under an efficiency bonus system.
Bauxite is found in a layer of alluvia, silica and iron oxide about 1-2m under the top soil. Huge areas of land have been leased from the origional owners and divided into grids. After a grid is probed for content and quality of bauxite, it is walked with representatives of the aboriginal tribe to make sure, that no sacred site would be affected by future mining. The land is then cleared from vegetation and the topsoil removed and stored for later regeneration. A loader operator and truck driver then work in long shifts to move the red soil for processing. The mining trucks are huge. Each of their tyres costs $30,000! (See the size compared to the car next to it!)
Other than mining, Weipa is known for great fishing.
We caught some really nice coral trout and seafood at the camp grounds own little fish and chip shop, called “Barramunchies”.
As we left Weipa going south Austin was on a mission to get the worsening dirt roads behind him. It took full concentration to avoid the deep “dust holes”, potholes covered with powdery dust. The corrugations were terrible too! Luckily we are well padded or our bones would have rattled in symphony with everything else in the car!
We finally made it to the bitumen road feeling like floating on cloud nine and stopped for the night in Laura. We were welcomed by flocks of galahs gathering near the old hotel where they know they get a good feed from the locals.
(painting of bush tucker)
This little town from the Cape’s gold rush era has a colourful history. We felt somewhat deflated in our pride of conquering the cape when seeing the first car which was driven all the way to the Tip in 1927! Well, at least it was an “Austin”!
At the Quinkan Cultural Centre at Laura Aboriginal and white Australian history and culture is equally represented and interwoven. We learned about bush tucker and bush tracking, and also the conditions of indigenous cattle farm workers. They worked for minimal food and shelter, but apart from sometimes going “walkabouts “ were quite loyal and proud of their work. It reminded me of the 880 Torres Strait Islanders, who proudly volunteered to fight in WWII, more than 2 decades before being given citizen status and electoral rights.
Just South of Laura and 500m up a sandstone escarpment is the UNESCO listed “Split Rock” art site. Beautiful aboriginal cave paintings, some 2000 years old, of dingoes, echidnas, fruit bats and good and evil spirits can be found under the rock shelves.
(Kangaroo on the left, Dingo in the Centre)
Fruit bats hanging from the ceiling
Atherton Tablelands
Created by teutonic plate shifts and volcanic explosions, some as recent as 10,000 years ago, the landscape of the Tablelands is full of geological formations like crater lakes, volcanic cones, gorges and waterfalls. It also left behind pockets of sunken areas full of moisture where beautiful rainforest can be found, as well as fecund soil where everything will grow. From coffee, tea, wine to nuts, fruit and sugar - all is being farmed here.
We had the best coffee since we left Sydney at Mareeba Coffee Works, a plantation/coffee museum/cafe-restaurant. The German born caravan park owners/organic farmers gave us some of their fragrant limes, the size of small apples. They will go down well with our mineral water or our G & Ts perhaps?
Leaving Mareeba we climbed higher into the tableland where we visited the historic village of Herberton. The village from the mining boom of the 1880s has been lovingly restored and filled with period furniture and memorabilia from the late 19th and first half of 20th century. Whether it is the wooden toys, spinning tops and dolls in the toy shop or the old-timer cars and petrol pumps at the local garage, each of the 62 buildings is a museum and treasure grove in itself! I had to laugh at the ad in the pharmacy for children’s teething meds with a drawing of a Crying Charles- look- alike, titled “Prince of wails”.
In the school house library one can browse through old books, cartoons and magazines. One article showed a primary school aged Elizabeth II, who, as it was written, had her inquisitive cheeky nature reigned in by strict royal discipline!
Posters in the military hospital calling for young Aussies to join the war putting unduly pressure on them by proclaiming: Put your surf boards away! Your mates need you at the front!
We could have spend a whole day in the village, but had to find our next camp at ‘Tall Timbers’ in a place called Ravenshoe. If you wanted to annoy the locals at the proudly proclaimed "highest town of Queensland”, you pronounce the name “Raven-shoe”. But it is actually “Ravens-hoe” and tall timbers is it's fame to claim. Especially the valuable red cedar wood the locals call “red gold”.
From here we explored the nearby Millaa Millaa Falls, a popular place to take a cool dip. In the wet season the waterfall is said to cause a deafening noise, but now after a few dry month it seemed like a silvery curtain of fairyland tinkling into the pond below.
In the one- street town of Millaa Millaa we found some very strange street-art. "Please explain!"
Another art work is the statues of the famed explorer of North Queensland, Christie Palmerston and his side kick, aboriginal Pompo.
I don’t know what Palmerston, a very rough fellow who was part villain, part tough explorer and part samaritan to settlers in peril, would have thought of this depiction of himself, not to speak of Pompo!
Walking through beautiful rainforest to Tully Gorge and little Millstream Falls, we came across this little fellow, a very young dingo looking a bit lost.
One of the most amazing natural phenomenas is this huge curtain fig tree. Starting off as a small seedling growing on a host tree, it gradually reached with it’s roots down into the soil, until the original tree was bowed by it’s embrace.
The Savannah Way
We are moving westward now on the Savannah Way. The road, boastfully called "Highway 1", consists of a slim lane of bitumen in it's middle and a whole lot of red dirt on either side. 
When a car comes towards you there is not much use of standing your ground and “playing chicken”, as both cars eventually have to hit the dirt to avoid collision.
Turning off to the Undara Experience Caravan Park we managed our first 10km of dirt road towing the caravan. The park is laying within a huge cattle ranges owned by the Collins family for 150 years. After the discovery of the so-called "lava tubes" on their land it has grown to a major North Queensland tourist attraction.
Before joining the Lava Tube Tour which is the only way to access the privately owned land, we decided to walk to and around the Kalkani crater. From the crater rim we had sweeping views over the many volcano cones and craters in the ensuing landscape. The Kalkani crater itself is filled with medium size trees which are frequented by black cockatoos, butterflies and lizards. (we stole this photo from the web)
The Undara Lava Tubes are basalt tunnels and were created by the slowing flow of lava from 164 craters of the McBride Plateau. As the lava toe was slowly extending, it’s surface cooled and solidified building a tunnel while the hot inner stream moved through it’s centre. Some areas of the tube’s roofs are quite fragile and have collapsed, others extend up to 160 kilometres under ground.
Apart from a variety of birds we also met a couple of these cute little lizards on our way. 
Continuing on to Mt. Surprise we couldn’t find much apart from a service station and a friendly caravan park called “Bedrock". Oh wait! Austin found the local “KFC”!
Our next excursion took us on a side road to Forsayth, a former gold and copper mining town and the terminus of the Cairns to Forsayth Savannahlander Train. Here we once again left the caravan behind and made our way through a 1284 sq km cattle station of the Terry family to the Cobbold Gorge Village. 
We stayed over night in one of the corrugated iron cabins acquired from Sydney after the 2000 Olympics. The village is a true oasis within the outback. An infinity pool, restaurant/bar next to a dam are frequented by visitors of the gorge, and pale- headed rosellas.
The gorge itself is just wide enough for a slim punt to squeeze through. The polished rock faces show how torrents of water have gushed from side to side to carve out a passage. Lizards, snakes and a couple of freshwater crocodiles (see above) looked at us in bewilderment as we passed by quietly on the
Walking on rocks above the gorge almost disappears from view, and a little further on we stumbled onto the old horse and carriage road from the gold rush times. Graves along the way tell stories of violence between white prospectors, local aboriginals and Chinese traders.
We loved it at Cobbold Gorge and could have used the available paddle boards to calmly steer ourselves through the winding chasm, but opted instead for a cooling swim in the pool, before heading back to Forsayth. Temperatures were 33 degrees and climbing!
We were not the only ones in need of cooling off.
Savannah to Southern Gulf
After skirting by Einasleigh River’s Copperfield Gorge and visiting Georgetown's amazing 15 room mineral and fossil collection we hit the Savannah Way again in direction Gulf. The termite hills which continue throughout Inland Australia, I learned, are just like icebergs. Two thirds are below ground, thus aerating the soil and helping rainwater trickle through the otherwise sun hardened soil. Even the destructive eating habits of the termites have a part to play in the circle of life. 
As they hollow out trees which eventually die they actually provide habitats for cockatoos and small mammals living in those trunks. I bet, they also chiseled out many a didgeridoo!
We stopped in Croydon, a once very affluent gold rush town. The hotel dates back to 1887 and proudly advertises having a 3-star cook! Well, I am not sure that the fish and chips were any different from the usual, but they were served by a French backpacker!
We didn’t know what to think about the old “Bank of New South Wales" building with outdoor safe, although I was fairly certain that people do not “deposit” any money there now!
And a bit more of Aussie humour on the side of the road: “ Just Married”!
The road from here was definitely an improvement to the earlier Savannah Way. There were two lanes, one for each direction and straight edged bitumen. 
However, we experienced some obstacles of a different kind.
If there weren’t wallabies hoping or emus strutting across, there were cows, wild horses, snakes or lizards. Luckily we evaded all creatures, including drovers and their dogs.
We finally made it to the Southern Gulf and the Fishing town of Karumba - just in time to watch the sunset and the rugby league quarter final between the North Queensland Cowboys and the Cronulla Sharks. When the cowboys won in extra time, the serenity of the sunset was lost!
Later, sitting in front of the caravan reminiscing about the day, we experienced a cricket invasion of almost biblical proportion!
Attracted by the light they jumped against the van and car as if wanting to knock themselves out. Unless..they were Cronulla Sharks or Sea eagles supporters?!
(Jaribu, or black-necked storch)
Being in the barramundi capital of the gulf we had a look at the Barramundi Discovery Centre.
At one point, when the dirt roads leading to the Gulf were transformed into sealed bitumen roads, an ever growing influx of hobby/sport fishers threatened the sustainability of the barramundi. That’s when the professional fishermen of Karumba got together and studying the life cycle of the barramundi developed a barramundi hatchery. The barramundi, whose name comes from one of the aboriginal languages meaning “Big Scale”, starts it’s life as a male. As “teenagers”, in a yet unexplained way, the majority of barras realise the error of their ways and have a sex change. So now an army of female barramundis make their way to the salt water estuaries where at the exact time of the 30 minute lull within the first king tide in October the spawn is released and fertilised. The baby barras, called “fingerlings”(is that where “fish fingers” comes from?), are not as cute as you might assume. These young males take their boyish grapple to extremes, killing each other off. 
In the wild only 1% of them survive, while in the hatchery through controlled environment and separation of fingerlings by sizes, the survival rate is increased to 30%. Once grown to an appropriate size the fingerlings are released into river and dam systems flowing into the Southern Gulf, and eventually make their way back to the salt water for the breeding season.
Well, the whole experience made us hungry and so we went for lunch to Asha’s Cafe for some local barramundi and king salmon.
We topped the day off with a sunset cruise, taking us out into the gulf, while sipping wine and eating local tiger prawns.
As Austin always says: It’s a hard life, but someone has to do it!
Lawn Hill National Park
So far we have mostly seen dry, sandy riverbeds along the Savannah Way. But at Gregory Downs there are some really nice free camping spots along the gurgling, clear water of the Gregory River.
An hours drive from there, over spiky spinifex and turpentine bush lined dirt roads, lays Adels Grove, a beautiful, shady camping/caravan area just outside of Lawn Hill National Park. The Lawn Hill Creek flows by the camp sites and offers refreshing dips. And boy- did we need it! On the day of our arrival the temperatures hit 38℃ and stayed at 37℃ until 6pm.
The Robinsons, of course, are not for idly lounging around the camp! And so, after pitching our swag and a quick swim in the river, we drove to Lawn Hill Gorge and took on the steepest of the walks, to Duwadarri Lookout. The view rewarded us. It was spectacular. The Budjamulla, as the gorge is called by Aboriginals, is a lush oasis in midst of a greatly inhospitable landscape. Budjamulla is the Rainbow Serpent, which the local Waaniy people believe lives at the far, shallow end of the gorge where no tourist can go. The Waaniy believe that if the nature and purity of Lawn Hill should be disturbed, the creative, life sustaining Budjamulla will just get up and leave.
On day two we walked to a second lookout from where we could see the upper gorge laying 2 metres above and separated from the middle and lower gorge by a wall of Tufa over which the water gently cascades down. The water has a bright emerald colour. This is due to an algae fed by the rich minerals of the red sandstone which the water has permeated and carved out over the last 30 million years.
From a dedicated Savannah guide we learned that the tall palms (livingstonia) are only found here and that the turpentine bush has its name from the black smoke and turpentine smell it gives off when burning. The plants around in the park have interesting features and usages. For example the sandpaper fig has leaves which really feel exactly like sand paper and have been used by Aboriginals to smooth wooden implements while the red resin of the bloodwood tree was used for wound healing and, boiled with honey, eased all kinds of stomach ailments. What a magical place full of bush tucker, bush medicine and beautiful bird life!
Back at Gregory Downs, where we had left the caravan, we found a strange sign hanging above the unloved toilets.
When Austin later saw some goggly eyes looking at him from a gap behind the cistern, he lifted the lid and you can see what he found.
Apparently toilets are an attractive “hang-out” for some locals!
Safe to say, we didn’t have frog legs for dinner that night!
Mount Isa
I had envisaged a nicer place to celebrate Austin’s big Birthday than this! But all Austin cared about was that he finally could apply for a Seniors Card after hiding behind my back at the ticket offices for too long! Of course I had heard every old woman and cougar joke over the last 38 years, and was determined to celebrate this day in spite of Austin wanting the day to just silently slip away. Well he could not deny enjoying all the lovely messages from his daughters, friends and some special voice messages from our beautiful grandson, Jaxon! 
Mount Isa is another example of a town created by a mining company after silver and lead ore was discovered in 1927. First the mining company erected tents under wooden shelters and later more permanent dwellings for its workers.
Having seen a lot of mines at different locations, we decided to spend Austin’s birthday above ground. Our first port of call was an Outback shop to get Austin’s birthday present: a real Akubra hat for a “real Aussie man”! After that our sight seeing consisted of finding a Repco and a Bunnings, both unfortunately present in Mount Isa. Of course Austin had his cake and ate it too! But finding a decent restaurant for an appropriate birthday dinner was quite an unsuccessful undertaking! We ended up in a rather mediocre Chinese.
Anyhow, we both survived and had an enjoyable day. And there was always the “Underground Hospital” we visited the next day - just in case. This hospital was built with the help of the mines after the Japanese bombed Darwin in WWII. It was meant to provide safer patient care and to deal with casualties of a possible attack. Luckily this never eventuated and today this hospital is a museum filled with hospital equipment and theatre tools of the early 20th century, and a few skeletons.
As antiquated as these items might have seemed, we delved into much, much older “bones” at the Riversleigh Fossil Centre.
Riversleigh is near Lawn Hill and has been a major fossil excavation site for the last 40 years. On over 300 sites of the area 500 new species of fauna have been discovered here, never before seen anywhere else in the world. We toured the laboratory where fossils are processed down to even the minute gravel identified as carnivorous ghost bat poo, in which teeth and bones of ancient creatures can be found looking through the microscope.
We heard amazing stories about “big birds” reaching 4 metres in heights, carnivorous kangaroos, tree climbing crocodiles and a giant wombat, the Diprotodon. All was encased in Cambrian limestone for the last 30-50 million years. Fascinating stuff!
Anyhow, it made even “old Aussie” feel young!
Tennant Creek - Revisited
Tennant Creek Landscape
Just before entering the Northern Territory there was just one more night- stop at the Camooweal Billabong before heading to Tennant Creek! The billabong contained not a drop of water, but was a nice free camping area with shady trees.
After a 4-wheel drive to the Camooweal sink hole caves, we did find a “real” waterhole - or was it a mirage??
Back at the billabong Austin fired up the barbie for our “anything goes” pizzas made from wrap bread and leftovers.
Incomprehensible to most people who know the place, we were getting excited to be on our way to Tennant Creek, where 38 years ago we had lived and worked .Then, in 1979, it was a rough and dusty town full of weird and wonderful characters and a lot of drunks. Austin worked in one of the still affluent goldmines as a crusher operator (see picture below). We lived in the old Goldfield Hotel, which also let rooms by the hour.
Coming back now we couldn’t wait to see what was left and what had changed.
The Goldfield Hotel is still there and has hardly changed. Except that in the 70ties three entrances to three different bar rooms were used: one for the miners, one for the Aborigines and the third for everybody else. Today everybody comes through the same entrance. The Italian backpacker working behind the bar told us, that the Black Fellows, as the Aborigines like to call themselves, still use the backroom to be among themselves.
Like in most outback areas of North Queensland and Northern Territory rules now restrict alcohol purchase and consumption which is a great improvement. Unemployment though and crime still seem to be high, especially among the Aborigines.
Most of the shop windows on the main street now have bars in front of their windows. Even the caravan parks are fenced in and locked up at 7pm.
Of course, the mines have all closed down years ago including the Nobel’s Nob Mine where Austin once worked. Jack Noble, already dead by the time Austin was there, must have been a real larrikin. He put his hand to everything from bushman to cooking, and later pegging some of the richest goldmines in Tennant Creek. Now, the open cut mine has been fenced off and rehabilitated. To Austin’s horror, most of the equipment, including parts of the crusher Austin worked on, we found in the local Mining Museum.
For old time's sake we had to have dinner at the Memorial Club, my former working place. I used to be the kitchen hand for the cook, Lucy, an Aussie version of Clarissa Dickson of the “two fat ladies”. The booze and fag smoking didn’t impede her excellent cooking. She also had a skinny, smoking offsider who helped out at times, and 6 children from as many men.
The little window where I used to take people's orders is still there.
Above it the word:” Memories” which seemed like a weird coincidence is the new name for the club's restaurant. I remember people having to repeat their orders so that I could understand their outback lingo, while they were laughing about my:” you vant gravy with zat?"
Luckily I now don’t have an accent anymore, haha!
Tennant Creek Memorial Club, my work place in 1979
The Red Centre and Alice Springs
We are in the Red Centre and it’s hot, hot, hot! Yesterday the hot desert wind whipped up huge dust clouds, so the sky stayed murky all day. The country along the highway is like a flat red carpet with tufts of yellow spinifex. The only green is from scant new growth in parts where fire has blackened the ground .
And then, just when you get used to seeing a whole lot of the same along the endless straight road, the Devil’s Marbles appear!
These granite rocks do look like giant marbles -some skilfully piled up, some carelessly tossed away. It is difficult to imagine that once they were part of one rock face split into columns by water penetrating softer vertical veins, then being sculpted into spheres or flat rounds like cheese wheels. You can see Austin having fun playing with the devil’s marbles!
No wonder travellers driving kms after kms down the long, straight road and then seeing something like this, expect the unexpected. That’s obviously how the small place called Wycliffe became the UFO capital of Australia, and indeed there were some weird creatures hanging around the service station!
And - shortly after - it happened! One of the flying saucers must have interfered with our engine, as all by itself it slowed down and went into so-called “limp mode”.
It wasn’t a major drama. The car was still drivable and after giving it a rest over night, we made it slowly but surely to Alice Springs’ Ford Service.
While the Ford dealership here is communicating with head office about our car problem, we have got the okay to drive the car without towing the caravan. 
There’s a lot to explore here like the Desert Park, for example, a park dedicated to show off the flora and fauna of the red centre. 
It is amazing with what speed the raptures like the hobby falcon or the kites grasp their prey with their talons, or to see how a whistling kite cracks an Emu egg hammering it with a sharp stone.
We saw some other beautiful birds like the spinifex pigeons, the big bustard bush turkeys, the tiny “painted” and “zebra" finches which look like part of an aboriginal dot painting .
An aboriginal Elder told us that some dot paintings act as a map by pointing to the location of water. Water, we learned, is depicted as circles a stone would make when thrown into water. We learned about "skin names” of a “mob" and how the small tribes in central Australia have strict marital rules, where marriage is only permitted with "skin names” far enough removed on the ancestral tree in order to avoid genetic weaknesses. Marriage between different tribes is however only permitted if it is a matter of survival.
What all tribes have in common is that the hunting is strictly men’s “stuff”. Here in central Australia a non-returning, hook-like boomerang was used to render the prey incapable of moving and a cudgel to finish the job. The men also used long flexible spears which are inserted into a “woomera”, lengthening the throwing lever and strengthening the throw.
The gathering of food and medicine is women’s “stuff”. The women have wooden bowls for this purpose. Bigger ones are used to carry a baby or fetch water in.
One little bush peach seen here has the vitamin C of 3 oranges. Bush raisins are a popular treat. There is also of course the witchetty grub and the bush coconut, the larva of an insect which is attached to the bloodwood tree. Yummy!
This week there is an amazing light festival at Desert Park called “Parrtjima”, meaning in the local language something like “shedding light on the unknown”. 
Walking paths are lit by pretty lanterns and the Sadadeen Gneiss mountain range of Alice becomes a canvass for a twenty minutes light display. Beautiful by local artists painted lampshades and screens plus a dance floor changing colours and patterns all make for a special atmosphere.
Just a quick update: The warranty people have approved to replace the faulty turbo of our car, which should arrive tomorrow. We have been here now for a week, but we are glad, because there is so much to see in and around the Alice. That’s why I have split this blog in half. The continuation of this saga will follow shortly.
Alice Springs and the McDonnell Ranges
Rainbow Valley
Delving into the history of Alice Springs one finds that a lot of innovations to life in the outback started here. Once Alice was just a telegraph station next to some "springs”. Here messages from Darwin, coming from overseas were received and transmitted on to Adelaide. Only when the old Ghan railway was extended, a township formed.
In 1928 Reverend John Flynn (whose ashes are buried under this rock) founded the Flying Doctors service making use of the new technology of flying. The invention of the Traeger Pedal Radio allowed communication between a doctor and isolated cattle stations up to 500km away. 
The Traeger radio was later used by the "School of the Air" when it established here in Alice in 1951. A first in the world, it delivered education via radio to remote Australia. Today, radio communication and posted teaching material has been replaced by computers, printers and web-cams.
The School of the Air now proudly claims to be the “largest classroom in the world” reaching across 1,300,000 square kms, 3.5 times the size of Germany and 10 times the size of England. Of course the number of pupils are low as there are only very few families living too far (more than 50kms) from a community school to qualify for the programme.
Currently there are 142 students attending the Alice Springs School of the Air. When we visited they were all at the school for a special on-campus day. This happens about 3x per year and is very exciting for the children who otherwise only communicate with each other via computer chatroom. The computer teaching program has icon buttons like a hand for a student to let the teacher know that they want to ask a question or contribute during a lesson. There is also a feature all school teachers I know would love: a mute button a teacher can use to quiet a too chatty student!
Having had days to explore while waiting for car news, we went a little further afield. We visited Rainbow Valley and the East MacDonnell Ranges one day, then packed our small swag and toured through the West MacDonnell Ranges for another couple of days. The rock formations, gorges and gaps, some sacred aboriginal sites, speak for themselves:
Austin and I following the latest fashion previously modelled by our friend Vicky. Thank you Vicky! The "Mozzie Nets" worked just great keeping the all too friendly local flies away!
Emily Gap with Aboriginal paintings of the three sacred caterpillars:
My favourite tree. This 300 year old ghost gum stands 33m high.
Bearded Dragon
Trephina Gorge - East MacDonnell Ranges. No water here either!
Travelling west along the Namatjira Drive, named after the famous aboriginal painter, Albert Namatjira, we followed the many side tracks to picturesque locations like Simpsons Gap and Ellery Creek Big Hole. 
Yeh! This time a waterhole with water! This spring water was freezing cold, but a welcome refreshment on a 38 degree day! After a picnic lunch at the Ochre Pits we moved on to Ormiston Gorge, where a nice breeze cooled us just enough to climb to the Gap Lookout. 
From here we had a wonderful view of the gorge and the tiny people enjoying a swim from the top.
(below one of many rock wallabies at Simpsons Gap)
Our final destination was a Woodland Campsite at red bank Gorge where we put up our swag for the night. The campsites in this National Park were lovely and we were all by ourselves, or so we thought! Too late we realised that the choice of campsite was a mistake: not only were we inundated by flies (the mozzie nets came out again) but we were also joined by not one, not two, but a whole swarm of bees! We managed somehow to eat our chilli-olive tortellinis. 
But the bees just kept on coming. They seemed to be especially attracted to a new bright orange washing up dish Austin had purchased, and, before we could do something about it, some suicided in my dish water. Their mates were back for breakfast the next day, but we tricked them by taking our coffee and muesli to another picnic table!
On the southern loop back towards Alice Springs lays the former Lutheran Mission Hermannsburg. In 1887 two German missionaries were sent from Adelaide to establish a mission and introduce the local Aborigines to the Christian faith. In horrendous dry and hot conditions it took them 20 months to reach this remote outpost. The original buildings of the mission are now a museum with lots of memorabilia and the teahouse offers homemade scones and apple strudel. The mission still functions as a church.
(Above wild horses and a funny sign we saw on the side of the road near Hermannsburg, most probably aimed at European or American tourists in camper vans!)
One of our last stops was going to be Palm Valley, a grove of 3000 tall cabbage tree palms.
It is only accessible with a high clearance 4wheel drive vehicle down a 22km dirt track from Hermannsburg. I practised my off road skills driving through deep sand ruts and stony creek beds, but then chickened out about 5kms before the end. No sooner had we swapped seats when we came across a congregation of 4 wheel drives and heard that a truck was bogged in deep sand further down and that there was no passing or moving it. A recovery towing vehicle was also not available for several hours. So we had no choice but to turn around.
On our return to Alice we passed Albert Namatjira’s house whose paintings of the local area we had admired in the Araluen Arts Centre in Alice Springs.
An Albert Namatjira painting
Apart from the Namatjira Gallery, the museum show cases the best of traditional and modern aboriginal art.
The work which has gone into some of the dot paintings is just awe-inspiring!
The Ochre Pits - nature’s paintbox
Uluru & Kata Tjuta
Finally, 38 years after our first trip around Australia, we made it to the inner sanctum!
We left Alice Springs during a sudden 20 degree temperature drop and heavy rain, the first this area had seen for a long time. At Curtin Springs Roadhouse, which has a great free camping area, we talked to a couple of Vietnam War veterans who had visited Uluru just for the day. They offered us their 3 day passes to the National Park for less than half price and with two days to go.
Approaching Ayers Rock Resort, we were astonished that the area was much less barren than we had imagined. While the pale- yellow spinifex prevailed there were plenty of green scrubs, bush flowers and trees.
Then we entered the National Park, and there it was: the mammoth monolith, the worlds largest pebble, Uluru!
As we got closer, we were just gobsmacked by its size! The smoothness of the surface now showed wavelike folds and slim waterfalls, caused by the recent rain, were glinting over algea blackened run-offs. And then, of course there was the colour! 
When walking around “the rock” it divulged more features, like caves, rocky overhangs and small water holes - all of diverse significance to the Anangu people, the traditional owners. The word “Uluru" is often been given a meaning but in Anangu language it is just the name of the area, while "Kata Tjuta”, also known as "The Olgas", means “Many Heads”. A fitting name, I thought!
We visited Kata Tjuta twice, once for the sunset and then the next day for the Valley of the Winds walk. The sunset was beautiful and the scenery along the walk and views from the two major lookouts were stunning!
We were lucky that the day was mild, 28 degrees only. If the temperature reaches 36 degrees, the walk is closed. The “Valley of the Winds” also kept its promise delivering a refreshing cool breeze, very welcome during the steep ascend.
Still, back at the resort’s camping ground, we were glad to cool off with a glass of cider and many glasses of water!
This was especially well deserved because we had gotten up at 5am to drive to the other side of Uluru for the sunrise. We just made it in time to see Uluru in its full morning glory, changing from deep purple to red and orange as the sun rose over the horizon.
Most of us spectators with hastily thrown over jumpers and dishevelled hair looked a little less glorious.
We felt sorry for some tourists who had parked on the side of the rock, intended for viewing the sunset only. They probably thought:”don’t know what all the fuss is about!”, before realising their mistake.
Some people feel compelled to climb Uluru although it is actively discouraged.
I spotted this weather carved love heart in the rock.
Sadly, tomorrow we are leaving this special place.
We still don’t know what or who placed this big pebble right here in the outback, or why the rock’s colour at times looks like artificial lighting of a velvet curtain for a soon to be revealed theatre performance.
For our last night and a fitting end of our time here we booked a Field of Light pass. It was amazing what the English artist Bruce Munro has created here: a sea of colour changing, handcrafted light stems over an area of 49,000 square metres.
It is impossible to capture the atmosphere with a camera, although Austin tried.
Kings Canyon
Leaving Ayers Rock Resort we visited a few of Austin’s estranged relatives (See comments on Facebook!).
Living on a camel farm they don’t mind carrying tourists on their backs to the sand dunes of Uluru and Kata Tjuta sunset look outs. This is light work for the camels who have been left to run wild in the central desert after their hard work was no longer required. Led by Afghan cameleers, they once were essential to the transport of heavy loads through the dry interior including the railway sleepers for the old Ghan!
We drove on from there, past the “fake Uluru”, Mount Connor, and just stopped 30 minutes short of Kings Canyon for the night. We wanted to be close enough to get to the start of the canyon walks by 8am. We got there right on time and started our ascent to the Rim Walk at 8.15am.
It was already 26 degrees celsius. The temperatures were said to reach 36 degrees or more, and the rangers would close the access to the walk at 9am.
Looking up the very steep stony path to the top of the canyon we fully understood why. With a bit of huffing and puffing and letting some of the young "show-offs” pass us on the way, we made it to the top, and from there things were a lot easier.
The climb was well worth it as the view was spectacular! We took our time rock hopping to the diverse look outs. From there we had breathtaking views of the sandstone formations and the chasm below. Half way along the 6.5 km walk, one can venture down into the chasm to the so-called “Garden of Eden”, an oasis with waterhole, wattles, ferns and ancient cycads inhabited by a variety of birds.
Among the international "Rim Walkers” was a nice camaraderie of hellos and taking each other's photos.
We really only felt the heat of the day when descending on the other side of the canyon. Luckily there was cool drinking water and our air conditioned car down below. 
We drove south most of the day until 20kms before the South Australian border where the Kulgera Roadhouse claims to be the last (and first) pub of the Northern Territory. The weather had totally changed. It was 18 degrees now with a very strong South wind blowing and dark rain clouds looming on the horizon. We gladly took refuge in the quirky bar and enjoyed some good pub food, washed down with a glass of red called “grey nomads” (?). 
And there was entertainment too! A room full of Aboriginal patrons sang along Slim Dusty and John Williamson songs blaring from the jukebox. The atmosphere between the white and aboriginal patrons was great with lots of humorous banter to and fro, contrary to what we had observed in the Alice and Tennant Creek. The roadhouse also has a gallery of aboriginal art work sold to quite reasonable prices. A sign informed that all the proceeds from sales go to the artists, contrary to most tourist shops.
The next morning we entered South Australia and changed our watches to daylight saving.
Coober Pedy
The Breakaways
Just before getting to Coober Pedy the landscape is full of pale coloured, conical earth mounds as far as the eye can see. They look a little like Bedouin tents in the desert, but are actually dirt and gravel heaps from mining or probe holes of the vast opal fields. The town itself seems underwhelming and one could be tempted to just keep on driving. However there is a lot more to Coober Pedy than meets the eye.
"Coober Pedy” are aboriginal words for “white men living underground”, and, as a matter of fact, for two thirds of the population this is true. What is seen above ground is only a small portion of the town. There are many homes, motels and old mines underground. Since 1975 mining inside the town’s confines is prohibited. However, people who have bought land and dug into the hills to make their homes, have found quite a bit of opal in doing so. In one case, a man kept on digging out more rooms as he found another and another of the precious stone. He ended up with 21 rooms, all financed by his incidental findings.
Like in every mining town there are amazing stories being told, some true others told with poetic freedom.
A true story is the one of Faye Nayler, a Queensland woman, who single handedly dug out and worked a mine in the 1960s. She not only worked the pick axe and shovel, but also climbed up and down the long shaft using small foot holds in the rock, and then winched the heavy buckets filled with rocks to the surface. Faye obviously found enough, and build a nice home with the help of two female friends - underground of course! When mining in town was stopped in 75, she opened up her home to tourists.
(kitchen in Faye’s home)
Near the town there are still working mines. New opal seams are found in formerly abandoned mines with the help of modern equipment. Today the miners use electric cutting machines, diesel blowers to transport rocks to the surface and UV lights, which highlight even the smallest opal seams inside a rock shelf. One of these mines is Tom’s Opal Mine. Tom sold the mine after blowing his own hand off while demonstrating the use of explosives. However, he must have made a fortune - though miners never tell how much they find - as he once owned half of the city's buildings. The current owner miner took us on a tour and illuminated areas of opal within the tunnel walls with his blacklight torch which were before invisible to the naked eye. He also let the kids, including Austin, drill out a small section of rocks containing specks of opal.
We found some other local treasures:
Just North of town are the Breakaways, colourful limestone hills and desert plains. This picturesque area was used by film makers in movies like “Pitch Black” and “Priscilla” for example.
Along the moonscape like area runs the 5300 km dog fence. This wire mesh fence has joined individual fences together to stop dingos and other wild dogs eroding the valuable Australian sheep farming industry.
There are also several underground churches in Coober Pedy. We liked the Serbian Church St. Elijah with its stainless windows.
Enjoying the coolness and atmosphere of the dug outs, we booked ourselves into one of the underground motels.
It wasn’t at all claustrophobic as we expected! The room was quite big and airy and had a breakfast corner and computer desk.
The windowless darkness and total quietness made for a really great night’s sleep.
There isn’t much of entertainment in Coober Pedy. But once a week on a Saturday the drive-in cinema shows a movie, and we were lucky to be there for it! A beautiful sunset was the wonderful prelude to the movie “Gifted”.
Of course there is also the local scrabble evening or one can spend hours perusing Crocodile Harry’s dug -out with memorabilia and inscriptions from around the world. Harry was a true crocodile hunter turned miner, an interesting carrier path!
Woomera & Port Augusta
South of Coober Pedy begins the Woomera Prohibited Area (the WPA). This area has been used by Australia and its allies since the 1950s for space exploration, rocket launches and the odd bombing, including the Maralinga nuclear testing in the far West of the exclusion zone. It’s only fair enough then that the land is uninvitingly flat and bare.
Just outside the eastern border of this area lies Lake Hart, a small salt lake with a nice rest stop well known to free-campers.
It might look on the photo as if Austin can walk on water, but this salt pan has very little water and a 2 cm thick salt crust. Like with all desert salt pans, the surface is full of minerals and salt, and water evaporates faster than is replenished.
On a sunny day the surface reflection of the salt pan is said to be blinding, but that afternoon a storm front with dark clouds was rolling in. By night time the wind increased to gusts of up to 80 kms. Everyone was huddled inside. The caravans rocked around like on a roller coaster and the sky lit up with lightening. It was really quite frightening and in the early morning hours everyone took stock: there were some torn awnings and chocks scattered around, but otherwise we were all ok..
Having had only little sleep, we set off to the town Woomera. Woomera is still under the Australian Defence and RAA management but accessible to the public. The Rocket Park bears witness to former military activity. What is still going on in the area today is a mystery. But, I guess, that is the nature of national defence.
It is now 5 weeks that we have been at the Gulf of Carpentaria in the far North and yesterday we arrived at the Spencer Gulf at Port Augusta. After all the dryness of the red centre it was nice to see the sea again! And yet, the arid dry interior is only a few kilometres from this coastline.
The town even has an “Arid Land Botanic Garden” with all the rare desert plants and wildlife. From the dunes of the park we could see the Southern Flinders Ranges where we will head to tomorrow.
At Lake Hart - before the storm hit
The Flinders Ranges
After weeks of rolling along flat, straight roads, this was the first time that we had to pull our caravan uphill again. But it was so worth it!
The Flinders Ranges are the result of million of years of volcanic heat and compression pushing the surface up to Himalayan heights, then by sea ingression, water and wind wearing it all down again to the peaks, saddles and valleys of today.
One of the resulting valleys is Wilpena Pound, a shallow basin surrounded by a circle of mountains.
The local Aboriginals call the basin “Ikara”, and their version of how Ikara formed is as follows:
The kingfisher, Yurlu, came in his dream journey to the area to attend a corroboree and initiation ceremony. He lit a big fire which created the coal at Leigh Creek. People were gathered to start the ceremony. Two huge serpents, one male the other female, camped nearby and when the ceremony was on its way, they swooped down and ate the people except of Yurlu and 3 others. The serpents were so full that they laid down on either side of the pound and thus the surrounding mountains were created.
The National Park has a great camping ground and visitors centre in Wilpena with many walks, hikes and drives to choose from. We did some beautiful walks, overlooking the pound and diverse aspects of the ranges. How different the fauna and flora was from what we only saw days before. There was an abundance of grey and red kangaroos and wallabies, all hoping across - while we saw only their dead brothers along the Stuart Highway!
A special favourite of mine is the yellow footed rock wallaby which loves the caves and walls of the Brachina Gorge.
Even the many emus look friendlier here in this protected environment, where everything is done to reverse the damage caused by European settlers over the decades. It’s called “Operation Bounce Back”. A multitude of birds like the ringneck parrots and the red capped robin are also at home in the park. So are goannas and shingle back lizards. Unfortunately there are still rabbits, goats and foxes threatening some species.
On our drives we really had to dodge the wallabies, kangaroos and emus, nearly all having one or several young ones in tow.
At the Sacred Canyon we had to scale some rocks and got our feet wet to see Aboriginal carvings. We also saw the Cazneaux Tree, called after an apparently famous Australian photographer who called the image of this tree “ The spirit of Endurance”.
There are many examples of this endurance throughout the local flora: like the red gums letting minor branches dry up until they fall off in order to survive or trees which toppled over in a storm but grew new upright branches.
I loved the fragrance of the native pine trees and the valleys covered in flowering thorn wattle and emu bush.
I could carry on raving about the Flinders, but we are currently in the Clare Valley and Austin insists that we visit a winery!!! Better not disappoint him!
Clare Valley
As we need to be back in Sydney in 9 days time, we had to make this the last destination of Austin’s original travel plan and leave Kangaroo Island and Wilsons Promontory for another time.
Driving South towards Clare, the landscape starts to look almost European, with undulating hills, paddocks of wheat and green meadows. Then, descending on the eastern side towards Clare, the first wine hills appeared.
The oldest winery of the area is Sevenhill Winery. 
It all started off with Silesian farmer, Franz Weikert, and 130 Catholics from Austria and Germany travelling to Adelaide in 1848 to seek political and religious freedom.
Short of financial means, Weikert and one of the Jesuit brothers settled at the northern edge of the colony, at Clare, and established a Jesuit Mission.
The church, Jesuit college and the ruins of Weikert’s cottage along with religious shrines are still part of the vineyard.
The first sacramental wine was planted in 1851 and soon after the Jesuit residence and college. Here the two brothers of Saint Mary MacKillop, Donald and Peter, were educated, and Mary had once stayed in the Weikert cottage.
Mary’s brother Donald later became the superior of the Daly River Mission established by the Clare order in Darwin.
In the meantime, the "sacramental wine” has financed a lot more than the college and is still growing strong.
After doing some tasting we got lost driving on the valley’s scenic route, but not due to the wine tasting, as Austin had stuck to water. This way we saw many more picturesque corners of the wine country than most other tourists and found a Vineyard called Skillogalee.
We returned to the family run vineyard and restaurant the next morning. Sitting under an old olive tree and overlooking the sun drenched grapevines, we had a delicious breakfast and shared warm potted smoked trout with tomato, basil, cream & parmigiano reggiano with home made crusted bread and baked eggs with baby spinach and Italian cheese. 
Yum on both counts!
We found out that “Skillogalee” is the Celtic word for a gruel that was fed to prisoners. Irish explorer, Horrocks, replicated this gruel made from grass seeds and water after he and his party ran out of food. It saved their lives. So he called the creek running along the current vineyard “Skillogalee”. I have to say, I much preferred our breakfast menu to a bowl of gruel.
So, now we are homewards bound and are looking forward to see everyone again!