Heading North up the Stuart Highway we intended to stop at the Devil’s 
Marbles then head off towards the Davenport National Park and over a 4WD track to the Barkly Homestead – needless to say nothing went to plan! Stopping for fuel at Wauchope we asked the owner of the roadhouse (it’s the only thing at Wauchope) about the road to Barkly Homestead – a mere 240k of dirt track - he was not very positive. Firstly, there had just been a couple of inches of rain so the road was probably been washed out; secondly it “wasn’t much of a road anyway”; thirdly, the cocky (i.e. farmer) who owned the land didn’t allow anyone to cross it. This all sounded pretty conclusive so we decided to give it a miss – so onward to the Devil’s Marbles.
These were a big surprise. The “Marbles” are blocks of granite, which, over the millennia, have eroded, to form large rounded stones. The amazing thing is that many of these have eroded so that a number of rounded stones, some as big as buses, are balanced one on top of the other. We had seen many photographs of these but were unprepared as to how many of them there actually were. Photographs suggest a few dozen at the most, however there were hundreds littering the landscape.
Another surprising thing was the “touchie-feelie” aspect. Many Australian sites restrict access, particularly if
there is any Aboriginal cultural or religious significance, and photographs are generally restricted. However at the Marbles people are free to touch and climb at will.
A further surprise was that I had expected the campsite to be some distance from the Marbles, however it is possible to camp very near them. Sandra and I had a prime site literally within 20 yards of our “own” Marbles – for the night at least.
On arrival the day was pretty cloudy (so what’s new!) however we were lucky for it to clear and there was a fine sunset – important as the rocks are at their best in the evening glow. Sandra, as usua
l, went mad with the camera and took hundreds of photos. However the best was yet to come. Back at camp, after a dinner of stir fried beef in a blackbean sauce, the magic started to unfold. Whilst relaxing with a well deserved gin and tonic a full moon rose over the nearby dunny and bathed the Marbles, and our own Marbles in particular, in an amazing yellow light. We sat soaking this in for ages until Sandra felt the cold and went to bed leaving me to finish the gin.
At sunrise I arose (Sandra doesn’t do sunrises) to take more photos.
With our plans in disarray due to the vagaries of the weather and the local cocky we instead headed north on the Stuart Highway, a tarred main road, and set course for Daly Waters about 500k up the road. Whilst at the lava tubes of Undara we heard some bush poetry and Sandra bought a CD by a chap called Bob Magor which we have now listened to about 5 times. One of the poems is about a golf course which was
created in Daly Waters and circumnavigates the Daly Waters Pub (a famous, iconic landmark in this part of the world) I was determined to have a look at the golf course and, the first thing we did after pitching the tent, next to the pub, was to head into the pub and find out about the golf course – was it real or a myth?
The first notable thing about the pub is that we had arrived during “Happy Hour” – but with a difference! Having ordered your drinks you had to toss a coin with the barmaid – heads or tails. If you lost you had to pay for the drinks – if you won, they were free. Work it out for yourself – you can’t lose, well at least I didn’t!
The second notable thing was every surface of the pub was covered with items “donated” by customers. As well as the usual paper currency and business cards, were photographs, t-shirts, sportswear, sports equipment (including, somewhat bizarrely, a number of signed hurling sticks from Ireland) However the mind started to boggle when you noted whole sections of the ceiling and roof beams were devoted to underpants, knickers and bras. What sort of pub was this!
The third notable thing was no member of the staff had ever heard of the Daly Waters Pub Golf Course – it
was all a myth – or so it appeared. Later on that evening I raised the issue once again – still adamant there was no course, the barman agreed to ask the owner if he knew of a golf course. Somewhat surprised that anyone had ever heard of the course, Lindsay the owner admitted that the course did exist, it did circumnavigate the pub, but he also admitted that the fairways had not been cut for over three years and then only three of them. The eighth, known as Hiroshima (because, in the poem, “nothing ever grows there”) was the only still identifiable fairway.
Lindsay knew the poet Bob Magor (a gentleman sheep farmer with 35 head of sheep) who, although he lives in South Australia, still calls into the Daly Waters Pub. Tomorrow I plan to set forth to explore the golf course having been given directions by Lindsay how to get to the first tee – from there, a golf connoisseur such as I (??) should be able to work out the route of the course.
Marbles then head off towards the Davenport National Park and over a 4WD track to the Barkly Homestead – needless to say nothing went to plan! Stopping for fuel at Wauchope we asked the owner of the roadhouse (it’s the only thing at Wauchope) about the road to Barkly Homestead – a mere 240k of dirt track - he was not very positive. Firstly, there had just been a couple of inches of rain so the road was probably been washed out; secondly it “wasn’t much of a road anyway”; thirdly, the cocky (i.e. farmer) who owned the land didn’t allow anyone to cross it. This all sounded pretty conclusive so we decided to give it a miss – so onward to the Devil’s Marbles.
These were a big surprise. The “Marbles” are blocks of granite, which, over the millennia, have eroded, to form large rounded stones. The amazing thing is that many of these have eroded so that a number of rounded stones, some as big as buses, are balanced one on top of the other. We had seen many photographs of these but were unprepared as to how many of them there actually were. Photographs suggest a few dozen at the most, however there were hundreds littering the landscape.
Another surprising thing was the “touchie-feelie” aspect. Many Australian sites restrict access, particularly if
there is any Aboriginal cultural or religious significance, and photographs are generally restricted. However at the Marbles people are free to touch and climb at will.A further surprise was that I had expected the campsite to be some distance from the Marbles, however it is possible to camp very near them. Sandra and I had a prime site literally within 20 yards of our “own” Marbles – for the night at least.
On arrival the day was pretty cloudy (so what’s new!) however we were lucky for it to clear and there was a fine sunset – important as the rocks are at their best in the evening glow. Sandra, as usua
l, went mad with the camera and took hundreds of photos. However the best was yet to come. Back at camp, after a dinner of stir fried beef in a blackbean sauce, the magic started to unfold. Whilst relaxing with a well deserved gin and tonic a full moon rose over the nearby dunny and bathed the Marbles, and our own Marbles in particular, in an amazing yellow light. We sat soaking this in for ages until Sandra felt the cold and went to bed leaving me to finish the gin.At sunrise I arose (Sandra doesn’t do sunrises) to take more photos.
With our plans in disarray due to the vagaries of the weather and the local cocky we instead headed north on the Stuart Highway, a tarred main road, and set course for Daly Waters about 500k up the road. Whilst at the lava tubes of Undara we heard some bush poetry and Sandra bought a CD by a chap called Bob Magor which we have now listened to about 5 times. One of the poems is about a golf course which was
created in Daly Waters and circumnavigates the Daly Waters Pub (a famous, iconic landmark in this part of the world) I was determined to have a look at the golf course and, the first thing we did after pitching the tent, next to the pub, was to head into the pub and find out about the golf course – was it real or a myth?The first notable thing about the pub is that we had arrived during “Happy Hour” – but with a difference! Having ordered your drinks you had to toss a coin with the barmaid – heads or tails. If you lost you had to pay for the drinks – if you won, they were free. Work it out for yourself – you can’t lose, well at least I didn’t!
The second notable thing was every surface of the pub was covered with items “donated” by customers. As well as the usual paper currency and business cards, were photographs, t-shirts, sportswear, sports equipment (including, somewhat bizarrely, a number of signed hurling sticks from Ireland) However the mind started to boggle when you noted whole sections of the ceiling and roof beams were devoted to underpants, knickers and bras. What sort of pub was this!
The third notable thing was no member of the staff had ever heard of the Daly Waters Pub Golf Course – it
was all a myth – or so it appeared. Later on that evening I raised the issue once again – still adamant there was no course, the barman agreed to ask the owner if he knew of a golf course. Somewhat surprised that anyone had ever heard of the course, Lindsay the owner admitted that the course did exist, it did circumnavigate the pub, but he also admitted that the fairways had not been cut for over three years and then only three of them. The eighth, known as Hiroshima (because, in the poem, “nothing ever grows there”) was the only still identifiable fairway.Lindsay knew the poet Bob Magor (a gentleman sheep farmer with 35 head of sheep) who, although he lives in South Australia, still calls into the Daly Waters Pub. Tomorrow I plan to set forth to explore the golf course having been given directions by Lindsay how to get to the first tee – from there, a golf connoisseur such as I (??) should be able to work out the route of the course.
PS Please remember to post a comment on the blog nearest to 4 June to wish Sandra a Happy Birthday. If you don't know how to post a comment - see my blog in February which tells you how to post comments. Finally, if you are in touch with Sandra before her birthday next week, don't mention this to her, it's supposed to be a surprise!
Hi Jim
ReplyDeleteBringing back memories of My trip between Darwin and Alice Springs via the Stuart Highway. Daly Waters pub was a great rekief as it was 40o C and the beer was cold. Our group had a BBQ at the back. Did you visit the 'International Airport' up the road,perhaps the birthplace of QANTAS. Darwin next?
Happy birthday Sandra. Yes I am still keeping an eye on you both.
ReplyDeleteDavid