Twice as Long as Flinders in Port Augusta.

By the time we leave Port Augusta, we will have spent twice as long here as Mathew Flinders did when he visited in The Investigator in 1802 and yet nothing will be named after us. Flinders was here for 3 days and we will have spent 6. In those 3 days some of his party managed to walk to the top of Mt Brown, the highest peak in this part of the Flinders Ranges (named after his botanist Robert Brown), 24 kms away. I guess he deserved to get his name on it after that effort. We were going to stop for 4 days but tyre trouble, thanks to a poor wheel alignment has seen that extended.

Mt  Brown is the Pointy one in the middle. The view from Shoreline Caravan Park.

When we were at Pildappa Rock I luckily noticed that one of our rear tyres was starting to come adrift but spotted it before it blew. When we arrived in Port Augusta we discovered it is a very rare tyre. The blokes at every tyre place in town shook their heads in collective bewilderment at what would possess anyone to use a tyre of that size (225 60R18 for the tyre enthusiasts amongst you) and it turned out there are none in South Australia so our replacement has to come from Melbourne. Since discovering that I have checked every Suzuki Vitara I've seen and most seem to have the same tyres. Since Vitaras are not uncommon I can only assume they are very good tyres and don't need replacing too often. Hope so anyway.

The upside is that we have easily filled our time here. We booked into the Shoreline Caravan Park, on the shore as the name suggests and we visited the Dry Land Botanical Garden where the cafe serves delicious bush food themed fare (think quangdong jam etc). We've taken several bike rides round town and rode the Pichi Richi steam train up to Quorn. Today I paddled up to the head of Spencer Gulf where Flinders ascertained that it was not an entry to the Inland Sea. I can confirm that.

Quorn Railway Station bathed in sunlight. 

On Sunday, there was a Bargain Bonanza type flea market in town so Trish took a stall to try and sell some of her Uthando Dolls and felt art. I went to the Wadlata Interpretive Centre which takes a good 3 hours to see everything. An informative video presentation claimed that some of earths most primitive life forms began right here in Port Augusta and looking around at the patrons of the flea market, it seems that some are still here to this very day. Topped off a great day by watching the unbeaten Dockers stay that way in a game against the Bulldogs.

Finally, if anyone is actually reading this blog (and the page view counter suggests you are) feel free to add comments at the bottom of the posts so I know you are there. Just play around with the buttons there and you'll work out how to do it. If you post as Anon, perhaps put your name in the body of the comment so I know who it is. Be nice to communicate.

Which Child Sniggered When I Said Iron Knob? All Of Us Sir.

Largely due to it's mirth inducing name, one thing that's fixed in my memory of primary school social studies, is the role Iron Knob played in the development of Australia's iron ore industry. It would be tempting to say that Iron Knob has seen better days, but I got the sense that perhaps it hasn't. It doesn't have any of the magnificent but run down public buildings that you see in other old mining towns. I suspect it has always been a little tired, dusty and faded. Perhaps iron never had the glamour of gold?

Never-the-less, the Iron Knob Visitor Centre, located in the dusty old former single men's mess, will also remain in my memory because it was the first we visited that invited us to make a cuppa and sample the contents of a traditional  bikkie tin while we sat down to enjoy a 6 minute DVD on the town's history. Our hosts were two sweet old beanie wearing souls who were furiously knitting the next beanie, presumably as a replacement in case the current one wore out from over use. It seemed churlish to refuse such a generous offer. The DVD was well made and perhaps it's most memorable fact was that in the days when iron ore was loaded by shovel, the daily record was 70 tons! Tough in them days.

It's interesting to note that in South Australia, they refer to Ceduna and parts west of there as "the Far West". Not sure what they think West Australia is then. The Far West is similar to our "Up North" with dry, flat landscapes and occasional worn down ranges. Original Australians still sit under the trees and talk to each other in their own language and galahs and correllas flock around everywhere.

Old Paney Homestead in the Gawler Ranges.

Policman's Point in the Gawler Ranges.

Matilda at Uluhru - Sorry Pildappa Rock.

After Ceduna, our first nights stop was at Pildappa Rock, a campsite in the foothills of the Gawler Ranges. It's a slightly smaller version of Wave Rock and from some angles could be a miniature Uluhru. It's a credit to the Wudina Shire Progress Association who keep it immaculately clean. It's got a toilet and a free BBQ too. We left the van there while we took a day trip up into the Gawler Ranges which is just like the Pilbara but without the heat (although I guess the Pilbara can be cool in winter too).

From there we went on to Kimba which bills itself as the halfway point across Australia. It also has a Big Galah! Other towns looking for tourists could learn a lesson from Kimba which positively welcomes you, There is a free (donations invited & impossible to refuse in the circumstances) camp area behind the footy club with a lovely $1 shower. Each evening by 5pm it is full of vans. They also have a well signposted town heritage walk and a bushwalk up to Whites Knob (the South Australian's are very keen on knobs) where there is an impressive modernist sculpture of Eyre and his "native tracker". We spent 2 nights there and at the pub were accosted by a frugal lady from Warnbro who had an onion in her handbag that she was determined to give away, rather than have it go to waste in the quarantine bin. We accommodated her.

Matilda  meets The Big Galah

At Kimba too, in the dirt in front of the Halfway Across Australia sign, Trish picked up a 1950 thruppence. We googled its value to see if it would pay for our holiday. Apparently in mint uncirculated condition it could be worth up to $22. A circulated specimen might fetch from $1-5. Ours had clearly been circulated, recirculated, buried, dug up, walked on, pissed on and circulated again so I suspect it will be at the lower end of the range.

Trish & Matilda at the site of their 1950 thruppence find.

Eucla Line Opened. Hurrah

In 1877 when the Eucla Telegraph Station made it's first transmission with those words, it was an Australian technology centre. With c100 staff it was the biggest telegraph station outside the major cities. Now it doesn't even have mobile reception! No reception from Norseman to Ceduna as far as I could tell.

The Nullarbor crossing is something every Australian should do in their lifetime although I wouldn't recommend doing it too often. We did come across an old couple who have done it at least once a year for the past 30 or so years. Their 1987 Nissan Urvan camper had backfired a couple of times on the road between the border and Madura and then died. We stopped to see if they needed help. Luckily there were road works a couple of hundred metres up the road so while Pa went up to see what assistance they could provide, we stayed to keep Ma company. A generous assessment put them in their late 70's but my guess is they were well into their 80's so when I asked them what the purpose of their travel was and Ma began by saying that Pa made the crossing to visit his dad, I thought God 'elp us. How old is dad? She then went on to explain that dad died in 1997 but they continue to do the trip between two properties they own, one in Kelleberrin and one in Victoria. 

An amiable young road worker, who seemed glad of the diversion, volunteered that his off-sider was a truck mechanic and he'd have a look at the van during smoko. Given they were in safe hands, we said we'd be on our way and Trish gave them each a Time Out bar to keep them going. The road worker declined his but Ma declared that she would have two and did a little jig to demonstrate just how much she likes chocolate. The little Aussie battler lives on.

Incidentally, if Mr Hockey and Mr Abbott are worried about the plight of the pensioner, they could reassure themselves by taking a roadtrip across the Nullarbor. There is an endless stream of grey nomads and most of them are travelling in rigs that would cost upwards of $100k. Put our little A'van to shame. Clearly they are also happy (well willing) to pay up to $1.88 a litre and are probably using about 18 to 20 litres/hundred kms. They all looked older than me and I'm guessing there were plenty of pension cards on board so while I appreciate that there are battlers (in 1987 Urvans), there is plenty of fat in the system. 

In Norseman, we were sitting in a park having lunch when a Rolls Royce went past. Just as I suggested to Trish that some local obviously had a claim that was paying well, another one went past in the other direction. Then a few minutes later, down a cross street in the distance I could see what looked like another. Is Norseman the undeclared home of Australia's mega-rich I thought? Then when we pulled into the roadhouse for fuel, another one pulled up so I asked the driver what was going on. A Roller Round Australia rally apparently and then we were leap frogged by a variety of Rolls and Bentley's all the way across. Almost all of them seemed to be driven by one old fella with a lady in the front and another in the back. I suggested to Trish that if you own a Rolls Royce you can tell your wife you are taking your mistress too and to hell with what she thinks but Trish felt it was more to do with age demographics. Who knows?

Also in Norseman, Trish had been excited to visit their Doll Museum that had been touted in the tourist information that she picked up in Esperance. When we got there it was closed and had no opening times showing. Trish asked the young lady in the Visitor Centre when it was open and she said it had closed about 18 months ago. Time passes slowly in Norseman. 

Our first nights camp at the Woorlbi Rest Area, we pulled up our camp chairs at a fire lit by another travelling couple only to discover that not only were they also from Albany, it was Jordan's Grade 1 teacher Mrs Deegan and her husband. 

It's bloody cold at 7am on the Nullarbor. Can we claim to have cycled the Nullarbor on the basis of riding a couple of k's down from our overnight camp to admire the view?

No problems on the way over. Everything traveled well and I'm much more relaxed with towing now. Had two pleasant nights camping by the roadside and we are now back in civilization at the Ceduna Foreshore Caravan Park. Even got to watch the Dockers trounce Essendon at the pub next door last night. I think this could be the year! Might even be in Melbourne at Grand Final time. 

Leaving the Beautiful South Coast

Last stop before the Nullabor is Esperance. We travelled here via Hopetoun; a pretty place, pretty dead that is. Sorry Hopetoun, you are pretty but there seem to be a lot of empty buildings. A casualty of the mining downgrade I guess.

Fitzgerald River National Park will live on in my memory as the place I got my first official "Senior's" discount. I got my card a week or so ago and a day pass to the park was half price ($6) for vehicles with a Senior driving! I've waited 60 years for this although I think Trish was possibly more excited than me. She loves a bargain.

Had a vigourous storm at Tozer's bush camp out of Bremmer on Sunday night. Tested the van because at times it felt like some of the wind gusts had the potential to blow it over, but clearly it didn't or I wouldn't be writing this so cheerfully. Tozer's is an interesting place. A caravan park carved out of the middle of a farm about 20kms out of Bremmer. The owner "Toz" lives in town but comes out everyday and seems to enjoy having a beer & a chat with his customers. A middle aged typical windswept farmer Toz had a vision that if he built it they would come, and with some limitations it seems they do. There was only one other couple there with us, but Toz reckons he's had over 100 a night in the high season (New Year).

The camp has a large, central, fully equipped kitchen cum rec room, with a TV and internet connectivity. Fantastic showers of substantial size and all the hooks for clothes and towels you could ask for. Hooks are very important in an ablution block. One for dirty clothes, one for fresh clothes, one for the towel. Yes, you need hooks. Top spot.

In Esperance we are camped on the verge at Georgie & Dennis's place. They are leaving tomorrow as Georgie has a job in the Tennant Creek prison but they have been fabulously hospitable in the midst of their packing. I have put my back out somehow, possibly all the driving or just a bad bit of bending. If I sit down, when I stand up I walk like an old man for the next five minutes & then it seems to straighten out. Georgie recommended a Chinese massage place that she uses in town so I went & gave them a try. (I've often mused on who uses these ubiquitous places, well now I know.) Ethel, a petite Chinese lass of surprising strength pounded my back for half an hour and when I got up it felt worse than when I went in. After a short walk that passed and now I've been sitting in Esperance Dome for an hour or so and it feels fine. Something in it after all.

An Albany Work of Art Views an Esperance Work of Art!

Ok, bring on the Nullabor.

On The Road At Last.

We're  off and racing. Well  not really racing. In fact we'll be travelling quite sedately.

When Edward set off on his journey, a number of servants and what he called dark children of the forest, gathered to see him off. He was taking some horses to sell in Sydney so he had two stockmen with him, one European and one Australian (I think I will adopt the policy used in Dancing with Strangers , the excellent history of first contact at Sydney and refer to whitefellas as European and blackfellas as Australians) but he also had a couple of other European stockmen ride along with him for the first little bit.

I don't have servants, let alone dark  children of the forest, but we did have Paul, Carol and John, canoeing friends, with us for the first night. We all camped at Miller's Point, a bush  campsite on the Pallinup Estuary, about 130kms east of Albany. A beautiful spot and probably not much changed since Edwards time; if you discount the road in, pit toilets, assorted moored tinnies and ramshackle shacks.

Our first campsite!

When Edward sailed past here in 1854, the Pallinup Estuary would've still been pretty well untouched by Europeans. It fell into the Goreng branch of the Noongar peoples land,  just outside the territory of Albany's Menang people. George Cheyne had taken up land at Cape Riche about 30kms to the West in 1836, that land being taken over by the Moir's, who had started work on the homestead that still exists there, by the 1850's. John Septimus Roe, who managed to cover most of the Southwest, named Boat Harbour, just over the Estuary in 1848 and of course those intrepid trans-continental explorers, Wylie and Eyre, crossed the Pallinup in July 1842. Eyre's journal records that they came to a wide rivèr that they couldn't get across. They went upstream for 8 miles till they came to a rock bar that allowed them to cross. A day or so later, Wylie, a Menang man, started to recognise territory that they were passing through.

Paul and I paddled 14kms upstream  and sure enough came to that  same rock bar!

A Pox on your Anzackary.

This post is not really related to our trip but it's something I have to get off my chest.

Sadly I'm  filled with despair this weekend. Àlbany, along with the whole nation, appears to be enveloped in Anzackary and I  can't bring myself to be enthusiastic. The word celebration is being emphatically eschewed in favour of commemoration but it feels like celebration to me. People tell me it's not about  glorifying war but that's not what I'm hearing. Certainly there's a lot of war is hell but it's being drawn as a glorious hell; a path to heroism, and for young people, that is very seductive. I'm not hearing war is an evil that has no place in a civilized world which is what I want to hear.

Patti Smith once sang Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine. Well the Anzacs may have sacrificed for someone, but not me! Unless by sacrifice you mean pointless slaughter to pacify some imaginary being...and even then, it still wasn't for me.

I'm sorry they died, just as I'm sorry for the Turks who died (and at least they were defending their  country) and I'm sorry that modern young fools are dying for ISIS but we need to tell young people very loudly that they didn't need to die. If only there had been strong voices saying you don't need to listen to murderous militarists; saying no is a honourable path. The bravest thing a person can do is stand against the crowd! We need those voices just as much today.

Just remember that the military are not the ones who fought for the best things about modern Australia. Our fair industrial conditions, our tolerance of difference, our gender equality and our spirit of equity. These things were gained by the Eureka protesters, the labour movement and determined members of oppressed sections of our society. In all these things the military were at best silent and at worst shooting at fellow Australians. (Maybe Eureka should be our great national celebration?) To be fair, some Anzacs did take part in these movements but only once they were discharged and realised how badly they had been misused by their political masters.

I heard a Vietnam veteran on the radio this morning saying that people need to understand that they were just doing a job, that as soldiers, they had to follow orders. Sorry. That didn't wash at Nuremberg and it doesn't wash for me.

The only positive for me is to discover what courteous, accommodating people the modern Turks are. To accept the descendants of a failed, unjustified invasion of your country arriving en-mass to commemorate that event is admirably magnanimous. Imagine if modern Japan decided for some perverse reason that they wanted to come to Darwin to hold a major national  commemoration? Could we be so accommodating?

Until we can be a  country that is great enough to recognise all these things I guess I will just stay home on Anzac Day. Thank you for listening.

Almost There!

Almost there! It's been a year now since  I started planning this trip and blog. We have our little caravan, everything is pretty well  organized for home - mail all converted to  email (isn't technology wonderful - sometimes?), car serviced. All systems go.

This is the first time we've travelled without the timeframe of an end date so the plan is that that means we can travel like true nomads. Go at our own pace. Stop when we want. Stay as long as we want. Trish is telling people we'll be home in 3 to 6 months but I'm  saying I'll be back when I'm good and damn ready! Who knows?

Suffering a little anxiety. What if we have a breakdown? What if something goes wrong at home? Just have to put that aside though.

Off next week and hopefully our first camp will be with  canoeing friends on the Pallinup Estuary. A nice way to start. I'm excited!