Post in Two Sections - See Below

A long blog - a lot has happened and haven't had internet access. I have split the blog into two parts

1. Camels and Spiders in the “Centre” of Australia – then on to Coober Pedy

After a second day driving through the desert we eventually ran out of Western Australia. Apart from a brief trip to Sydney for the birth of Anathalia, we had been travelling through WA for three months – it’s a big place, and had only just scraped the surface. We camped at Docker River, a short way over the border in Northern Territory, and decided to have a “rest” day the following day. This meant that Sandra got the craft work production line going to build up more stock for the Christmas markets in Sydney - although she also did her share of domestic chores as can be seen in the photo. Meanwhile the local wildlife showed an interest in Sandra’s activities and I was kept busy keeping them on the right side of the mozzie netting – again see photo. The following day we set out to revisit the Olgas and Ayres Rock – last seen in May as lumps of grey rock being lashed with rain.

I once heard that there were more camels in Australia than in Saudi Arabia. Brought over in the pioneering days they were ideally adapted for the hot, dry Australian conditions – and in over 6 months travelling we hadn’t seen one. However this was put right on the road from Docker River to Uluru and we had to stop on three occasions to let them cross the road. Although the Nissan has a substantial set of bull bars on the front which can effortlessly swat off kangaroos and lesser animals, I wasn’t prepared to tackle a camel – they’re big beasts!

The Olgas and Ayres Rock were as they are usually seen on postcards – red and impressive under a hot blue sky – we were probably lucky to have seen them as they were in May – with the rain cascading down the sides. Back onto the Stuart Highway and heading south making towards Coober Pedy we did an overnighter at the Kulgera Roadhouse. A visit to the bar paid dividends (although the wine wasn’t very good) as we found a small snippet which seemed to have escaped most of the tourist leaflets – this is the geodetic centre of Australia – the point from which all maps in Australia are referenced. Apparently a cairn had been erected on the exact centre of Oz near to the Mt Cavanagh homestead some 15k away – so, the next morning off we went.

Mt Cavanagh is a cattlestation and, as we were travelling over private land, we though it would be polite to ask permission and thus met the station manager’s father-in-law who welcomed us with open arms (I don’t think he saw many people) He directed us to the Centre of Australia and, as photo opportunities go, it’s one that is missed by most people – and the view from the top was magnificent.

Further south we blinked through Marla and on to what was to be our destination for a few days (or so we thought) Coober Pedy – the opal capital of the world. This also meant another border crossing from Northern Territory into South Australia. After 3 months in WA we have now been in 3 states in 3 days (Yes Helen, I know NT isn’t a State – but we’re not in the Derry now!!)

When mining for coal, gold, iron ore and other minerals the geologists are able to give mining companies a pretty good idea where to start digging – with opals it’s different. Within a wide area known as the opal fields there is only one way to strike it rich – start digging and cross your fingers. Anyone can stake a claim – usually 50m x 50m – and start noodling (a technical term I picked up, somewhat akin to fossicking) The area around Coober Pedy is littered with small pyramids of waste from the mines and the area is exceptionally dangerous as it is covered with old, and current, mine shafts. Having been to some of the big open cut mines and Super Pits run by multinational mining companies I think I prefer the low tech, “anyone-could-strike-it-rich” attitude of opal mining.

Coober Pedy itself is the ultimate dump with evidence of what appears to be indiscriminate mining all around, and throughout, the town. It is hot, dusty, physically unattractive with limited services and yet …. I liked it. We had planned to stay for a few days then move on to Lake Eyre but a visit to the tourist information office led to an early exit.

We planned to get to Lake Eyre via a short (160k) dirt road called the William Creek Road, then join the better known Oodnadatta Track. However we were advised by the man in the tourist office that, although these tracks were currently open, rain was expected in the next few days and some of the tracks we hoped to use getting to Lake Eyre were likely to close – if we wanted to see the lake we would have to leave sooner rather than later – get in, then get out – quickly.

This chap, a mine of information, then informed me that it was a big football derby today – who did I think would win. Thinking he was talking about a match between Coober Pedy and Oodnadatta, I claimed to have no inside information. However he had picked up on the Scottish accents and was talking about what would have been a very big match in Scotland – Rangers vs Celtic. The conversation then became rather surreal when he then started talking about Ross County. I was amazed that an opal miner, and part-time tourist information officer, in Coober Pedy had even heard of Ross County never mind being able to tell me about their cup exploits (against Rangers I think) which he had followed on T.V. – he was particularly enthusiastic about the impossible optimism of their supporters.

2. Lake Eyre and the Muddy Hell of The Oodnadatta Track

Lake Eyre is deep in the Australian psyche - it is an Australian weather benchmark with phrases such as “Lake Eyre if full” indicating a lot of rain, whilst reference to the number of years since the lake has had any water in it at all being an indication as to the severity of the current drought. Lake Eyre is spoken about with an air of fondness or pride – but I somehow doubt if many Australians have actually been here – and now, on its bonny banks, I know why Australians don’t go there!

As I typed these words I was sitting at Halligan Bay (personally I think this is a misprint and should read “Helligan” Bay) on the shores of the lake– or at least I would have been if the water was a few hundred metres nearer. The 70k dirt road in from William Creek, the nearest settlement on the Oodnadatta Track, starts off bleak and featureless and, with every passing mile, becomes bleaker and even more featureless with a bit of desolation thrown in for good measure. The last few k’s before reaching the lake are a scene of naturally occurring post-industrial apocalypse – perhaps not surprising as scenes from Mad Max were shot not too far away. I have been in many bleak and barren places but even living in Caithness doesn’t prepare one for this.

As I approached the lake, words from a warning sign seemed to sum up everything “Under the salt layer lies a black bottomless ooze of mud, silt and clay, which is mostly soft and moist”. With these words echoing in my head, we set up camp for the night – and, although the bush flies were bad, at least it was warm, dry and sunny. Then, at three o’clock in the morning, the wheels started to come off the wagon once more – Sandra gently kneed me in the back and whispered the dreaded words - “It’s raining!”

5mls of rain is enough for the authorities to close the roads in this area – which is what had been forecast for the following day, with 40mls forecast later in the week. Whilst we had been keen to see Lake Eyre, we were even keener not to be trapped there for days – although we had food and water for nearly a week the beer supply wouldn’t last that long – we had to get out! When dawn broke a glimpse outside confirmed our fears, the rain was on and likely to get worse – the view from one vast horizon to the next was uniform grey rain clouds.

We set a new packing up record, didn’t bother with breakfast and were on our way – to the great disappointment of about half a million bush flies. The 60k to the Oodnadatta Track were no problem and we thought we had over-estimated the danger so set off south towards Marree in good spirits. Although the road was very muddy, with 4WD engaged we were sliding along quite nicely for about 25k – which is when we met Liam. Coming towards us through the murk was a 2WD Toyota, which, with low-profile sports tyres, had absolutely no hope of making it north to William Creek. In fact he had just slithered to a halt and put on his flashers when we arrived on the scene.

Now there is an unwritten rule in the Outback (and if there isn’t there should be) that you do not leave a fellow traveller stranded. Despite going in the opposite direction we agreed to tow him the 30k north to William Creek. I turned around and my brand new, and so far unused, tow rope came out of our emergency bag and we got hitched up. Then, out of the rain, another 4WD travelling north appeared and Liam approached the driver to provide the tow - the driver very reluctantly agreed so I unhitched, turned around and prepared to head south. Then the other car, the driver of which had not even got out to lend a hand or assess the situation, suddenly disappeared north. So it was up to us again.

The tow was horrendous – or, to put it in Liam’s words, “a bit of a buzz” – he was of course much younger than me! His tyres had virtually no traction at all and he basically slid behind me for the whole 30k. His car swung virtually out of control from one side of the road to the other. One moment I could see him in the drivers side wing mirror coming towards me sideways on the wrong side of the road, the next moment I could see him doing the same thing on the passenger side. My biggest fear was going down hill with him behind me as, along with no traction, he had no brakes. At one point we had to stop as he had over run the tow rope which had snarled up in his front wheel – we got very muddy, and it was clingy, clay type mud which stuck to everything – particularly me and the underside of the car.

On the way back Sandra and I decided that we didn’t want to do this a third time and would go back the way we had come back to Coober Pedy. Arriving safely in William Creek Liam bought us a beer, posed for photos and then we discovered the next problem. There are only three roads out of William Creek – North to Oodnadatta, West to Coober Pedy and south to Marree, the way we had just come. The first two had just been closed and the road south was expected to be closing shortly. We had two options – stay in the William Creek pub (the pub is all there is in WC) until the roads re-opened or tackle the road south again. Whilst being stuck in a pub for a week did have a certain attraction we decided to head south.

The trip had no further dramas. After 30k or so the roads improved. We found a strange hot spring called The Bubbler on top of a mound in the desert and managed to scrape off most of the mud from our legs. A thirty foot high sculpture of a Scotty dog did cause some consternation until we realised we had stumbled across an unofficial tourist attraction – a sculpture park (or rather a scrubby bit of bush) called Plane Henge (I could have done a whole blog on this alone) Further down the road a family of curious emus appeared on the scene to pose for a photograph

We are now camped at a homestead called Farina which, in its day, was a bustling little town but now a ruin. When I have finished this blog Sandra and I are going to explore Farina which may feature in the next blog.

PS Due to overwhelming demand for the sordid details of the embarrassing incident in Esperance as mentioned a couple of blogs ago, I have reluctantly agreed to publish a single topic blog with an account of events. As they say – watch this space!!

The Myth of the Red Centre, a pecking Emu and Kings Canyon

One of the Great Australian Myths is that the centre of Australia is both dry and red – so much so it is often referred to as The Red Centre. This however is total myth, no doubt originating from wily Australian cattle farmers who have perpetuated the story in the hope of gaining sympathy and compensatory handouts from both Federal and International agencies. Uluru (or Ayers Rock) and The Olgas symbolise this imaginary landscape, often being photographed as blood red monoliths smouldering in a red desert. As one who has been to both within the last few days I can assure you this is not the case and any photos emerging from this region showing Uluru glowing red in the sunset have obviously been Photoshopped!

Yes, once again, the Drought Busters from Scotland have brought welcome rain to yet another part of Australia.

The Olgas are a small but impressive range of hills about 50k from Uluru, dramatically emerging from a flat plain. Normally seen as red, rounded hills against a blue sunny sky, when we arrived in the pouring rain they took on an uncanny likeness to Suliven in west Sutherland – that same rounded look against a grey, sulky sky with rain somehow managing to penetrate the Goretex. Making the best of things we did one of the gorge walks and then decided we should head over to the main attraction – Uluru.

It is still possible, but politically incorrect due to Aboriginal beliefs, to climb the rock and I had been wrestling for days with my conscience – to climb or not to climb. However the decision was taken for me – the climb is automatically closed for health and safety reasons if the weather forecast indicated a 40% chance of rain – with an actuality of 100% rain it was definitely closed for us. Instead we visited the Cultural Centre and did one of the walks round the base of the rock – both of which were surprisingly interesting.

To be fair the rain did not spoil the experience too much. Both the Rock and The Olgas, even in a sea of green (due to a good wet season not just our presence) rather than red, were dramatic and we take some solace from the fact that although most tourist photographs show them glowing red, we are in the small minority to have experienced them looking like drookit Scottish hills under a dreich cloudy sky.

Leaving Curtin Springs Station and its million or so acres behind us we set off north for a few hundred kilometres to visit another of the “must do” sites – Kings Canyon – although not before a local emu took a liking to Sandra and gave her a good pecking – luckily I had the camera at the ready.

Unfortunately there are no campsites in the area except the two official ones at Kings Creek and Kings Canyon Resort. The rain was still with us and the dirt road was a bit muddy with many water crossings - not rivers, just flooded roads. The Kings Creek campsite looked OK but it was still about 40 k from the canyon and the campsite road was covered in a deep, red mud – so onward to KC Resort. Slightly more up-market than we were used to with computerised check-ins and on-site entertainment (“The Roadies : Australia’s best loved comedy act” - allegedly) we set up camp in the pouring rain – not the best of experiences. As with most of the more up-market commercial sites we have been to the facilities were very good although having dingoes scavenging round your tent was one of the non-optional extras we could probably have done without.

The next day dawned grey but hopeful. So Sandra decided to do her craftwork in the morning and head out to Kings Canyon about lunchtime – a good decision as the weather cleared and we had a fantastic day. Kings Canyon can be highly recommended and we would put it above much better known places such as Uluru and The Olgas. We did the two main walks – the first was a very easy walk up the canyon floor highlighting the flora and fauna. Littered with massive boulders, some as big as houses, which had fallen from the surrounding cliffs we were re-assured by a sign which said the last major rock fall had been in the 1930’s – so they were probably due another one any day now!! We survived.

The “Rim Walk” was spectacular. A very stiff climb to the top of the cliffs took us to a rough path round the rim of the canyon with some breathtaking views culminating in a descent into “The Garden of Eden” – a cool oasis with a water hole just right for swimming surrounded by exotic plants and trees. A long climb back up the side of the canyon then back to the tent for a meal and some well deserved cold beer.

[As I don’t currently have Google access and I have forgotten to bring my copy of Arthur Mee’s Childrens Encyclopaedia with me – can anyone tell me what the difference is between a canyon and a gorge?]

Not sure about our next port of call yet but we plan to head north and take the Mereenie Loop Road – yet another dirt track, currently closed to non-4WD traffic due to mud and washouts. This crosses Aboriginal land and you are supposed to have a permit before using “The Loop”

More anon.