Our Aussie Adventures

Our plan was to edge ourselves out of bed at 9:00AM this morning, but given a technical issue with the alarm clock, it ended up being closer to 8:30AM. I had forgotten to change the time on it when we crossed into the Northern territory, and so it was still set for Melbourne time. Not that it made a difference, as we were both already wide awake by the time it sounded. Me because I’d had a wonderfully restorative sleep, despite the overnight heat and waking up cold to the morning chill. Bec because she claims that she had been kept awake for the majority of the night by my nocturnal snoring. The dogs too, had a tough night, not coping all so well with the heat, even despite their recent haircuts. They were bounding about the van for the most part, trying to find somewhere relatively refreshing to lie their weary heads.

In any case, the extra half an hour gave us a chance to ease ourselves into the day. It also gave us an idea of the conditions around here. It was interesting to see the sky swathed in a covering of cloud, the sun already beginning to burn through it with a heat that is hard to describe.

It was into ‘The Beast’ by 9:30AM, for the quick half an hour run into the tiny little town of Mataranka. This had not been a scheduled stop for us, until we read a brochure at Three Ways about it. With a couple of warm mineral spring pools and a pet friendly caravan park within walking distance of said swimming holes, it sounded like just the place to have a day or two to rest. We’ve been putting in a few big days in the past week, and we decided that it was time to have a break from the monotony of constant, day after day travel.

So, that’s how it came to be that at only five after 10:00AM, we were rolling into the Mataranka Cabins and Caravan Park, and setting up camp for a couple of nights. We had read that it was best to arrive early, in order to stake out a nice site, and we were glad we did. Our site is a lovely shaded patch of dirt, nestled amongst some broad canopied trees. By 11:00AM, the only sites remaining were the sun bleached, open area plots, while another hour or so found the park practically full up.

As well as being popular, the park is indeed pet friendly. Upon checking in, rather than a long list of tyrannical rules being thrust upon us, we were welcomed with advise on the best areas to go to give the dogs a run, and maybe even a swim in the Little Roper River, which forms the park boundary. Although that did come with a warning that the river is inhabited by fresh water crocodiles. Not known to be overly perilous to humans, I reckon our two friendly mutts would be barely a mouthful for them, so maybe no swim for the dogs after all.

As a bonus, we have a mobile phone signal here. I was elated to find that I would be able to post my last few days worth of blogs, as well as update our photos over on Flickr. Life is good.

Deciding to give ‘The Beast’ a well earned rest, we locked it up and decided to cover the sightseeing in town tomorrow. The remainder of today would be a restful day, starting with a walk along the swampy banks of the river. Whilst we didn’t sight any of the aforementioned crocs, we didn’t allow the dogs to take a dip. A dark murky opaque green, you wouldn’t have known if a croc was right beneath you.

Sorry guys, no swim for you today.

With the dogs all worn out after a decent walk, it was time to wear ourselves out. We hired ‘noodles’ from the front desk, long thin floatation assistance devices, donned our swimming trunks, and headed out on foot to Berry Springs. Only an alleged 500 metre walk from the park, it felt further in the stinging heat of the midday sun.

Once there, we were greeted by a large pool of the clearest water you could imagine. I am not joking when I say the water spouting from our tap is of a murkier quality than the water in this hole. It was hard to judge the depth from the shore, but the bottom was clearly visible from the surface.

Like looking through glass.

The idea is to kick out into the centre of the main pool, then allowing yourself to float, let the current slowly push you downstream the hundred or so yards to the exit ladder. Walk back, before doing it all over again. Whilst the current is fairly swift, it’s still takes about 10 minutes to slowly drift along, an ever changing scene playing out beneath you in the clear waters, and similarly above you due to the overhanging forest canopy, while you listen to the serene whispering of nature. The water, only dappled by sunlight, the air is cooler here, making the water feel all that much warmer.

Stepping in, we found it to gloriously warm, being a constant 32^oC. Cool enough to be relaxing, but warm enough that it didn’t take your breath away as we slid bodily into the inviting waters. Excuse the pun, but Bec took to it like a fish to water, relishing and relaxing as she floated along with the current.

Bec has a great time.

Me on the other hand… Well, I don’t swim so well to begin with, and I float much like a rock. Even the floaty ‘noodle’ wasn’t of great assistance, and without flapping my feet wildly about like a duck, I kept sinking. Being able to see the bottom was of little relief, when I couldn’t reach it, and my slow, sedate drift down the river became a frantic, panicked effort to keep my head above the surface. Rather than exiting relaxed and refreshed, I clambered out on my hands and knees, trembling and out of breath.

Not so relaxing for me.

At Becs urging, I did get back in again, staying near the edge of the pool where I was able to stand on my own two feet, without having to rely on my inept ability to maintain some semblance of floatation. As we paddled about in the shallows, I decided that I wasn’t going to let this minor tributary beat me. So grasping my ‘noodle’, it was back into the eerie depths we went. Knowing this time what to expect, and having figured that I could more easily keep my head above water by using my arms, I was able to relax and enjoy this voyage a little more.

The view from the pool.

Whilst I still may not have enjoyed it quite as much as Bec, I was at least able to take in my surroundings this time. It was amazing to see spider webs stretched out over the water, large arachnids lying in wait for an unfortunate flying insects to become entangled. Brightly coloured dragonflies were in abundance, their torsos flashing luminously in reds, blues and greens as they deftly avoided, for the most part, the silky strands of spider webs. Small birds were betrayed by their innocent chirps, as they scratched about in the undergrowth along each side, obviously also hunting for a feed of insects. Yep, much better second time round, but still not what I would call my favourite ride! We left it at that for today, enjoying the warmth of the sun on our wet shoulders as we walked slowly back to the van.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent relaxing (which I can do quite easily on dry land), before taking the dogs for an afternoon stroll about the park. Doing the rounds, so to speak, we stopped regularly to chat to others, exchanging ideas and tips about where to go, where to stay and what to do.

Then, following dinner, as we got ready to enjoy a spot of TV (we have a choice of ABC, ABC or ABC), we realised that the pleasing warmth upon our shoulders we had enjoyed on our way back from the thermal pools had left its mark on us, in the form of a slight reddening of the skin on our shoulders. Really, who would have guessed that sunscreen might have been a good idea in the middle of the day, here in the top end.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

Woo hoo! We actually achieved what might seem like the impossible today. We left the caravan park early and clawed back a whole 15 minutes. How exciting. That means of course that we can be expected back in Melbourne that much earlier. About 8:10PM sounds about right.

Not that we had far to go before making our first stop. We didn’t even reach the road, before we were pulling in at the bowsers of the Three Ways Roadhouse to offer ‘The Beast’ a drink of life giving dieseline. It would be the first of two re-fueling stops today, such was the number of kilometres we would traverse, not to mention the long distances between fuel stations along our prescribed route.

Once on the road, we were heading up the track, the compass pointing steadily North as we began our ascent to Darwin. The road was straight as a die in places, looking for all the world like a red, white and black hall runner, rolled out through a corridor of green foliage.

Whether it be because of a late end to the wet season, or that a permanent water source is close by, the surrounds today were made up of endless bush land of sparse, scraggly trees. We did cross a few bridges here and there throughout the day, a couple of the creeks beneath holding on tightly to the last vestiges of slimy green fluid, but in general, reliable water sources seemed to be few and far between. There were signs though, that at other times, the opposite could well hold true, evidenced by the warning signs that large tracts of low lying land could be subject to flooding.

With long rolling hills making up the country we were travelling, at times the horizon was barely a few hundred metres ahead of us as we chugged upwards. Reaching the low crests however, the land opened up beneath us, the horizon almost nothing more than a figment of your imagination, such was the distance away which it appeared. All of this, with nothing more in sight than the greenery of the scrub, divided neatly in half by the highway cutting a swathe down the middle. A remoter land is beyond comprehension.

The distances are such, that it was four hours of consistent 100Km/h or more driving to reach the first note worthy place for a rest break. Daly Waters promised an historic pub, and we couldn’t say we were disappointed. There was indeed a pub there, however, that really was about all there was. The pub served also as the local caravan park and fuel station, and apart from a small store selling leather goods, that was Daly Waters. A walk around town literally involved walking from one side of the road to the other, and that was it. It’s a tiny little dead end back water, which even the highway bypasses these days, some 5 kilometres to the east. Yet, it was bustling, such is the recognisance of the advertising. A site in the van park, had we been staying on as originally planned, would have been hard to come by, and even a parking spot was a tough ask when we first arrived.

Outside the historic Daly Waters Pub.

Inside the pub, we sipped on a cooling ale, from the much lauded choice of six beers available on tap, as we beheld the hotel. Every available piece of wall was adorned with all manner of badges, patches, stubby holders, hats, coins, scribbled graffiti and even a strung up line of bras that indicated a large number of the clientele are rather big boned. The brochures would have you believe that it’s memorabilia, but it was more like as if the entire collection of lost property built up over the years has ended up being moved from the back office, to cover the walls.

The eclectic decor within.

In the shaded beer garden, it wasn’t much of a different story, with registration plates, old bumper bars and even a thong tree giving an untidy but interesting feel to the area. What a quintessentially Aussie experience, even if it was staffed by foreign back packers, although that probably lends itself to the Aussie theme more than it detracts. Most of these type of outpost locales are staffed by mostly British tourists hoping to pay their way around Australia, by doing odd jobs here and there.

Sipping a cider in the beer garden.

Heading back out towards the highway, we had to back track a few kilometres, for our second refueling stop of the day. We had expected the township of Daly Waters to be a little bigger than it was, and as it turned out the only fuel available was from a bowser which we weren’t able to maneuver close enough to for the hose to reach. It only added a few kays to our overall trip, so was quite inconsequential. Not to mention about 10 cents a litre cheaper anyway.

With ‘The Beast’ happily sucking on a fresh tank of juice, it was then a straight through run to our camp spot for the night. We have chosen to make use of another free rest area, and camp by the side of the road again.

Arriving as we did at just before 3:15PM, we found it to be a rather small space, which was already home to quite a number of other vans and motor homes and was reaching capacity rapidly. We managed to slide right into a nice little space where a stand of trees threw a modicum of shade our way, and the ground was as level as we could expect. Certainly nothing that couldn’t be fixed by sliding a couple of ramps beneath the caravan wheels.

That then, was pretty much our day. We retreated to the van, throwing open all of the windows and hatches we could in an effort to encourage a cooling breeze to blow through, but it made little difference to the intensity of the heat, which might have been better measured in kelvins. Bec and the dogs don’t do heat so well, so a frozen bag of chicken pieces which was to become dinner, also became a cold pack to ease Becs discomfort as she bathed the dogs in cool water. With any luck, with the sun edging ever closer to the horizon, it will soon begin to cool down for them.

Once dinner had thawed, and was of no further use to Bec as an ice pack, we hooked the dogs onto their leashes, and went for a walk about the small camping area. It was actually blissfully cool outside, given the stifling conditions within the van. What was going to be a quick wander, to allow the dogs to relieve themselves, turned into over an hour, as we stopped and chatted to a few of the other campers. One couple from New South Wales is near the beginning of their own around Australia expedition, while another couple from Bendigo were more than happy to rave about their satellite TV set up, expressing how easy it is to set up, not to mention being able to have TV reception wherever you are. Bec and I quickly decided that we may have to go shopping in Darwin.

You realise something as you meet people in this way. It doesn’t matter from whence you came, nor does it matter who you are, because we all have one thing in common. We all love Australia, the great outdoors and the freedom you can only get from tugging your accommodation along behind you. Whether that be in the form of a caravan, a campervan, a motorhome, or any other form of portable accommodation. There really are only three questions that matter: Where are you from? Where’d you come from today? Where are you off to next? With slight iterations, these points could be discussed at length all night long and nothing else matters a damn.

By the time we returned to the van, it was pitch black, but the temperature had failed to recede as we had hoped. It didn’t help that we had to have the gas stove roaring away for nearly half an hour to get dinner ready. You can use the stove for a space heater in winter, let alone lighting it in this heat.

A cool shower was just the thing, but even after that, we were quickly bathed in a layer of sweat again. It’s days like this on which even I am blissfully dreaming of a cold Melbourne winters day. Nah, who I am I kidding!

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

It was a special day today in that, in terms of duration, we have reached the ¼ way mark of our expedition. Forty-five days down and 135 remaining. From our end, the time has flown by. Sitting here in the middle of nowhere, we have travelled so far and seen so much, and yet it doesn’t feel like we’ve been away from home, for such a long time already. We joked before we left, that there would be daily arguments and a strong chance of only one of us returning, and yet we’ve been so busy, arguments have barely flared up on a weekly basis, let alone daily as promised. They are quickly forgotten about though, as we move on, traversing new ground each day on our way around the block.

We thought this morning, that we were up early. Just a touch before 9:00AM, we woke to the bright sunlight streaming through the overhead vents, which we had left open overnight to help provide a flow of fresh air throughout the van. Opening the door to peer outside, we however found ourselves the only van left in the campground, all of the others already having pulled up stumps and got on their merry way.

Our schedule didn’t call for an early start today however. Our next stop is only 70 kilometres down the road, so it’s not like we will be spending the entire day on the road again. With that in mind, we started our day with a quick stroll about the area with the dogs, then slowly packed our gear away.

By the time we were turning out onto the highway to start our day, vans were already starting to stream back into the rest area, mostly by the look of things for their morning tea. Early morning people we are certainly not.

Less than an hour later, we were pulling into the Three Ways Roadhouse, at the intersection of the Barkly Highway and the Stuart Highway. Coming from the east as we had, you have a choice of turning left and heading south towards Alice Springs, about 500km away, or turning right towards Darwin, a mere 1000Km away. We will be eventually making our way north, but not before spending the remainder of the day around this area.

The roadhouse, is your typical outback service station, come restaurant, come bar, come pokies venue, come general store, come motel, come caravan park. It really does have it all. We checked in at just before 11:00AM and had our choice of sites from which to choose. Not that there was much choice. It was either a site in full sun, which was of course belting down by now, or a site with almost full sun, a slim shadow being cast by the spindly trees that somehow manage to survive the extreme climate. We decided to take advantage of the shade, as slight as it was, in a futile attempt to keep the temperatures to a minimum within the van. Our supposed grassed site was no better than our free campsite last night, in fact we may have been even worse off. There was no concrete slab upon which to easily level the van, and the advertised grass was nothing more than a couple of runners of tinder dry Buffalo grass. With each step we took as we set up the van, a little cloud of red dust would billow up, coating our unshod feet in a fake tan like orange mist.

With our van set up, and the air conditioner pumped up to full power, we wondered what it was we would do next. Our plans had us staying here a couple of days, to give us the chance to check out the nearby town of Tennant Creek. Only 20km down the road, we elected to take a drive down, before deciding whether we would stay on for longer or not.

So with the dogs safely staying behind in the van, as there was no indication as to whether or not it was allowable, we saddled up in ‘The Beast’ for the short trip into town. Driving into Tennant Creek I got the impression that it was a town of very little. A couple of shops, a supermarket or two, and three or four pubs, which even at this early hour appeared to be well patronised. If not for the daylight, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was nearing on closing time, such was the spillage of half inebriated drunkards onto the streets. Street corners seemed to be the meeting place of choice, as hoards of locals congregated on the gutters. A brief drive through the residential side of town provided us an alarming view of high security fences, creating compound like enclosures and occasional signs declaring particular premises at which alcohol was forbidden. Tennant Creek, we can safely say is not exactly a pretty tourist type town, and we were glad we had decided to stay out of town.

Out of the central township area, we found the information centre, where we were able to pick up all of the three brochures for things to do in Tennant Creek. I was beginning to think we weren’t going to need that extra day here. The information centre itself was the subject of one of the pamphlets, being that 2 museums were part of the complex. There was also meant to be underground mine tours, but nothing was mentioned about this, so we concentrated our efforts on the museum displays.

The first one was about the social history of the area, and walked us through the early days of Tennant Creek, up until the early 1960’s when running water was introduced to the town. If we had thought it looked like life was hard in this day and age, it would have been even tougher in the past. Built on mining, it was a town mostly made up of hard working, hard drinking, hard living single blokes. Judging by what we saw in town, apart maybe from the hard working bit, not much seems to have changed.

Inside the social history museum.

The second museum was a single room, with a wide variety of mineral deposits and ore containing rocks on display. It was actually quite intriguing to see the amazing designs that can be pulled directly from the earth. There was not much in the way of information here however, apart from the scientific, and almost unpronounceable, designations for the minerals at which we were peering.

Dumbfounded looking at rocks.

The other 2 pieces of literature we had collected, were both for attractions to the north of town, on our way back to the van. The first was at the old Telegraph Station. One link in the chain that provided Australias first telegraphic link to Britain, the permanent station was constructed way back in 1875. It is now a designated historical reserve, where the station, homestead and out buildings are on display.

The ‘Old Telegraph Station’.

The second was at the poor mans Devils Marbles. The Devils Marbles are a series of rock formations located about 100Km south of Tennant Creek. Given that we have decided to leave them for another trip, we did decide to visit ‘The Pebbles’. A short drive in, along a reasonably good, but extremely dusty track, brought us to a stand of orange and red rocks, perched atop one another. It was not overly exciting, and we stayed just long enough to have a wander around, and take some photos.

On top of the world at ‘The Pebbles’.

Back at the van, we found that we ought to be safe, a large contingent of military vehicles and personnel having taken over a large section of the park. They are making the trek from Adelaide to Darwin. They have 5 days to cover the 3000 kilometre distance, and here we were thinking we were doing it hard, putting in one single 600Km day yesterday.

We joined them by the pool for a while, and it was good to see that we are in safe hands, our nations defenders squirming about because the water was too cold. In their defence, I took a very brief dip myself, but despite the temperature being somewhere north of 30^oC, the water temperature was a great deal lower. It was invigorating to the point that I was finding it hard to gasp a breath.

With it proving no point to be sitting by the pool, if we weren’t going to make use of the clear waters, we dried ourselves off and returned to the van. Over a cooling drink, it was decided that we would spend tomorrow on the road again. Destination: Unknown.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

I could probably summarise todays events in just a few dot points.

• Awoken at some God forsaken hour by the alarm.
• On the road, leaving Mt Isa.
• Stop for fuel.
• Stop at the Queensland/Northern Territory border.
• Stop at our chosen roadside campground.

In doing so though, would be to deprive all of my readers of what turned out to be not only our biggest day, kilometre wise, of the trip so far, but also one of my most memorable days behind the wheel. To enlighten you further, I shall start from the beginning.

We were indeed awoken to the unwelcome screech of the alarm this morning at 6:50AM. A mere few seconds later, the alarm clock was undergoing flight training as I threw it across the van. Well, not really, but it did cross my mind. I really did not want to get up.

I’d had a reasonable sleep, despite being woken up by Alvin barking some time during the night. He really went off, alerting us to someone walking about outside the van. We couldn’t see anyone however, and guessed it was just someone out of the tent that had set up camp on the site next to us yesterday afternoon. We could certainly find nothing untoward this morning upon closer inspection, so all was fine.

The early morning didn’t bode well however, with our time being unceremoniously eaten up as we fought the clock to get on the road. I had hoped to be on the road by 8:00AM, but as that time came and went, we were still busy trying to get everything ready for a day of driving. We’re not sure where we wasted the time, everything just seeming to take a little longer than usual, which saw us departing the park a whole ¾ of an hour late. That will put a dent in our estimated time of arrival back in Melbourne. If memory serves me right, we will be pushing to be back home by 8:55PM now.

As we bid farewell to The Isa for the final time, we decided that it was not the nicest stop we had made. With the township in our rear view mirrors, it was out onto the open road, heading west along the black ribbon of macadam that lay in front of us. Even Shazza had decided to have an easy day, announcing: “Drive 566 kilometres, then reach your destination”.

As the scenery changed from the rolling red hills that surround Mt Isa, to scrubby bush land of low lying brushes and shrubs, to flat plains of yellowy grey spinifex, the only constant was the bright red rubble that made up the road side verges. Only in the outback do you see this shade of dirt, and it is beyond description, either in words, or photographically, the deepness of the hue that pervades the earth around here.

It was only a couple of hours after having left the confines of Mt Isa, that we entered the small township of Camooweal. Mentioned to us as before we left home as being a worthy place for overnighting, it will forever be known to us as Camel Wheel, after Bec noted the name down incorrectly. A lovely town it is indeed, however, being that we were only two hours into our day, it was much too early to be stopping for the night. We therefore reluctantly filled the tanks of ‘The Beast’ with the most expensive diesel that we have thus far encountered. At $1.899 per litre, we were glad that we only needed 40litres. It was then back out onto the open road.

It was only a matter of 10 kilometres further along the road, that we stopped for photos under the graffiti covered sign, which wished us a warm welcome to the Northern Territory. And a warm welcome it was, as the sun beat down upon us from the cloudless sky, raising the temperature to balmy 30^oC. A nice dry heat, it was almost bearable. It was also here that we won back some hard fought for time, as we crossed into the central Australian time zone and wound our clocks back ½ an hour. 11:30AM became 11:00AM and we will see you at just before 8:30PM on October the 11^th, so don’t forget.

On The Border.

Queensland one way…

…Northern Territory the other. 

On crossing the otherwise invisible line on the road into the Northern Territory, there was a change in speed limits, that saw the maximum allowable pace open up to 130Km/h. I did nudge ‘The Beast’ up to the big one, three, oh, for a short time, the engine purring like a pussy cat and the van bouncing along behind. It was unsustainable however, as the needle on the fuel gauge took on the appearance of the second hand of a clock. Throttling back to a much more sedate 105Km/h seemed to be the best compromise between speed and bankruptcy. As I wound it back, Bec pleaded for a short stint behind the wheel, a devious gleam in her eyes. At the price we were paying, and will likely continue to have to shell out for diesel to feed ‘The Beast’, there was no way I was giving up my spot in the drivers seat, as I know for a certainty that Bec would have pegged the speedo on 130, and not let up.

As good an excuse as any to stick the boot in.

The further west we travelled, the harsher the landscape became. Even the regular sighting of flocks of meat eating birds, surrounding chunks of road kill became a rarity. It’s as if nothing more than the hardiest of flora can survive out in these parts, as not much else can be seen. For as far as the eye can see, it’s nothing more than plains featuring clumps of stringy grey grasses, and even the sky takes on a reflective grey hue, compared to the glorious azure to which we’ve become accustomed.

With nothing about to give us an excuse to pull over for a break, even lunch was prepared and eaten at 105Km/h. Bec expertly plied together a couple of chicken sandwiches for us, which were devoured while still punting down the road.

Becs Cafe De Wheels.

At about 1:00PM, it became apparent that we were approaching some kind of civilisation, when Becs phone chirped to let her know there were messages. It was Barkly Homestead, nothing more than a speck of dust on even the largest scale maps, it is a mixed business of caravan park, general store, service station and airport, all rolled into one. We sailed on by with nary a glance, but it did give Bec 5 minutes either side to hurriedly tap out a number of text messages. Her fingers were a blur across the keypad when I looked over, as she battled to fire off her dispatches. (She does say sorry to anyone that may have missed out.)

A quick rest stop and a few hours more on the road, we were finally pulling into the 41 Mile Bore Rest Area. After nearly 600Km and a total of 7 hours on the road, we had indeed, reached our destination.

A wide expanse of cleared scrub, revealing the sun tarnished red earth, there were already a few other vans pulled up for the night. Despite that, we still managed to snag what we agreed to be the best location in the grounds. Snuggled in between some low shrubbery, there was even a concrete slab upon which to park the weary wheels of the van. With no need to muck around therefore with leveling the van, we were set to camp, as well as ready to make a hasty get away in the morning.

With the sun having been striking the flank of the van for the whole day, the inside was on the hot side of stifling however, so we threw open the windows in an attempt to get some fresh air flowing through, then sat outside, enjoying the breeze, the sliver of shade that the van provided and a close enough to icy cold to be enjoyable tinnie or two of XXXX. The dogs treated this whole scenario with much disdain, as the flies congregated about us, almost in a thick black swarm. Bethany wouldn’t settle, and Alvin soon found himself to be quite adept at catching the flies.

Trying to cool down at our camp for the night.

The outdoor relaxing idea soon went out the window, as Bec and the babies beat a retreat for the warm, but fly free interior of the van. I was soon to join them, using my time, as they all napped, to scribe my thoughts for the day.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

Far from waking up to the dulcet tones of a tree shredder grinding away at leg sized boughs only feet from our bedroom window, it was to a strong gusting wind that we woke this morning. It had whipped itself up into a frenzy overnight, and it was the whistling sound of the stiff breeze trying its best to separate our awning from the van to which we were greeted this morning.

In some respects I was thankful that it had arroused me from my slumber, as I had neglected to set an alarm. Today being our last day in The Isa, we wanted to make the most of it. Not that there was a great deal left to do here in town.

Following breakfast, I pulled in the single annex wall we had erected, and began to ready the van for travel again tomorrow. That meant folding chairs and washing lines and the annexe wall, before playing what is akin to a life size game of Tetris, in an effort to pack everything back away beneath the bed.

Heading into town, we first stopped at the information centre again, where we had a browse through the art gallery that we hadn’t bothered to look at when we first arrived the other day. There were some sensational photographs and inked drawings, but the prices put them all well and truly out of our budget.

Bec with the ‘Copper Pour’ sculpture.

I was also going to enquire about going on one of the underground mine tours, but found that todays has been cancelled, so I was out of luck. I ought to have asked when we were last here, and I might have been able to go yesterday. Oh well, it gives us an excuse to call back through here one day. We can’t do it all in one trip afterall.

From the information centre, we drove over the bridge that crosses the dry riverbed that separates town side from mine side. It looks like a good number of seasons have past since the river last saw a trickle of water, let alone a decent flow. Mine side is, as the moniker would suggest, where the mining plant is. There is also a sizable residential estate this side, but really not much else. It was but a short drive, more so we could check out the mining operation from close up. Not that much could be seen past the tall chain link fence and shrubbery that enclosed the plant.

Our sightseeing completed for the time being, we next headed back into town and to the shops to get some supplies. Apart from buying some extra bits to allow me to fit a new electrical point in the van to run the invertor, we also bought a jerry can so we can carry an emergency supply of diesel. It’s only about extra 100Km worth, but ought to be enough to get us out of serious trouble, even though I hardly expect to require it. I then spent another ½ an hour at the Telstra store, having found that the ¾ of an hour we wasted at Tamworth was exactly that. A waste of time. All the promises we had been made by the girl over the phone had somehow translated to us being overcharged on our latest bill. With that hopefully sorted this time round, it was off to the supermarket.

We are quite unsure as to what we can expect as we head further inland, before turning right to head up towards Darwin. Between here and Darwin, the only sizeable towns that we are likely to encounter are Camooweal and Tennant Creek. So we are working on the assumption that, other than the most basic of supplies, our options will be limited and probably expensive. Thus, we were doing a big shop today, in an effort to ward off having to pay over inflated amounts for produce in the middle of nowhere. We walked out with what appeared to be enough food to feed an army, or at least the two of us for a week or so. With that and what we already have stowed away in the van, we will hopefully make it all the way up to Darwin without needing to organise a major resupply operation.

It was straight back to the caravan park then, so as to load the freezer with our freshly bought goodies. With a bit of pushing and prodding, and creative packing we managed to fit it all in, filling the freezer to capacity in the process.

I then knuckled down to fitting our new power outlet. It took me a little longer than expected, but wasn’t made any easier by the limited tools I had to work with, or the extremely limited space within I had to work my magic. It would have been easier if I hadn’t loaded up the under bed storage space earlier, as that was where I spent most of my afternoon fiddling around.

Not much room under here. Now, if I’d taken my hat off maybe.

I finally had it all wired up, and a quick test showed that it does in fact work. Only time will tell though, if it will supply power for a long enough duration, to watch a movie or two without breaking our eardrums with the high pitched shrill alarm that pervaded the van when we last tried to use the invertor. Since I wired this one up and can’t blame anyone else if it doesn’t work as advertised, if it doesn’t you will likely not hear about it anyway. Unless of course it fails in a spectacular fashion that includes fireworks and explosions.

I was done, and tidied up in just enough time for us to jump in ‘The Beast’ for a drive up to the Mt Isa Lookout to watch the sunset. We had been advised that sunset was the best time from which to take in the view from the vantage point. It was quite nice to watch the golden orb of the sun slip down behind the low rolling hills that encircle The Isa, as the city lights became to illuminate the streets below. And according to the sign at the summit, we are a mere 2008Km from Melbourne.

Only 2008Km To Get Home.

Sunset selfie at The Isa Lookout.

What was then meant to be a quick dinner collected from KFC, turned into a ½ an hour wait as more chicken was cooked. It seems we weren’t the only one taking advantage of the special Tuesday deal. Getting takeaway meant no mess to clean up back at the van though. This was a compelling reason to chow down on the fatty goodness of deep fried chicken, as we are hoping for an early night before an expected big day or driving tomorrow.

By this time tomorrow, we will be sitting on the side of the road, somewhere between here and Tennant Creek. With no idea exactly where we will be, I daresay we will be trying out my wiring efforts, to run the television for some entertainment. I can almost say for certain though that it would be an extremely slim chance that we have access to phone or Internet signal, and so, until such time as we do, this will be my last communiqué.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.