Bourke, NSW

Bourke
Followed the Mitchell Highway up through the rich grazing and cropping property to Dubbo where they become irrigated from the Macquarie River. Along the river itself the soil is a rich dark brown that looks like it could grow just about anything, hard to say at 100kph but they looked like huge market gardens. From Dubbo we headed straight for Nyngan. I say straight for that is what it is,all the way from Dubbo to Bourke - 200k. The country changes dramatically, first to fields of cotton around Narromine and up to Trangie and then to vast flat plains of red earth with mirage lakes shimmering in the distance. The only signs of life are scrub and stray bunches of feral goats and sheep and the odd emu. Stopped for a coffee at Nyngan but decided to put on a few more kilometres before taking lunch.  Exactly half-way between Nyngan and Bourke is a so-called free camp - a few tracks on the red earth and a single picnic table. As we eat lunch we are struck by just how little traffic, relative to anything up to Nyngan, that we see: about 3 cars in total while we sat for half an hour. Suddenly we started to feel like we were on our outback adventure again: going where only a few 100 thousand have gone before, instead of zillions.

Drove into Bourke and straight out the other side to the Kidman Camp where we secured a decent site before going down-town. After grabbing a few things, we went followed the first of the Tourist trails, via the cemetery to say hello to Fred Hollows and then back out and across to the site of the 'fort' (actually Mitchell referred to it in the parlance of the day as a stockade) recreated to celebrate his arrival at the very spot. You drive about 15k off the main road to Cobar, following dirt trails and then onto the levee banks of the Darling, before arriving at the spot. I just laughed my head off: the 'fort' was a few logs bolted together in a square shape, about 3m x 3m. One side had a door opening. In front of this edifice were a few signs, one of which had an 1835 artist's impression of the meeting of Mitchell and his mates with the local inhabitants. way in the background is a tiny splodge they reckoned was 'the very fort itself'. And in 1835, there were no levees, no big beautiful billabong, the landscape would have changed with every flood, so how they know this is the very spot, miles from nowhere is a mystery as well.

Went back to camp kidman. Our neighbour accosted us with, 'What are you going to do when you hit a roo in the BMW?'. Same as he would in his Padjero I guessed to myself, call the insurance company and get it sorted. He went on to tell how he and his wife saw, this very day, some bod hitting a pig, or was it a dog?, or a dingo?, or a camel?, or an elephant?, in a Nissan Patrol and there was barely a mark on it. (The fact that the unidentified animal had disappeared and thus probably wasn't hit that hard, appeared to have escaped his eagle eye and nimble brain). So much for eye witnesses. But he continued on totally bemused by us, 'Fancy driving a BMW out here!' Almost as if it was unAustralian or simple-minded or something. I simply shrugged and muttered something about doing the same as he would or what ever it took to keep going and then begged off to go take photos.
  
This 'camp' is well known to vanners and one of the attractions is the 'Campfire'. We asked and were told, 'Oh, yes it's poet-on-a-plate night'. That translates to lamb-scrap casserole and lentils in chickpea shell broth or something equally as diet-inducing, all for only $27.50 a head. We declined but wandered over to the welcoming fire-pits anyway where a man was busy counting out chick peas and stoking fires. He was disappointed for us that we weren't coming and even aghast when we asked it it was ok to bring a chair and watch the show. 'Oh, no. It's twentyseven-fifty a head even if you don't eat.' 

We exit hurriedly, stumbling over ourselves in our haste to get away and get the cork out of a large
champagne.

The X5 clicked over from 199999 to 200000k today. Seems like only yesterday when it came to us with only 65k on the dial!

 Oh, you want a snap as well as a yarn do you? 

Under the shade of a Coolabah Tree. Lunch stop at Byrock free-camp. Byrock is the name of a property somewhere nearby and about half way between Nyngan and Bourke

Finally, at last...

Monday 26th became Friday 31st then miraculously became Wednesday 29th. Hey that's today! Not hanging around to be asked twice, we bolted, heading for Wellington in the west of NSW. Seemed to take an age to pack the van this time, I'm sure it's bulging at the seams, but hey, who cares, we is gone at last.

Stopped for a rest and a cuppa at Boorowa, then pressed on to Cudal where we had a hamburger at a cafe that looked more closed than open, but which was really good. Wandered into Wellington about 3:30pm and found a spot at the Riverside Caravan Park. Sign on the door read: 'Find a site, back in 10 minutes', so we grabbed a riverside spot between two others.

People on one side were rabbiting on about all the platypusses in the river. I wandered down with the camera and took some snaps up close, they are water rats! Had a wander about and then settled down for afternoon tea. The other neighbours then jumped on us telling us how someone or other had stuff stole out of their car the last night. Talk about cheery start to the trip - puts you right off. Mind you, you do have to take sensible security precautions.

Wellington looks half-dead, apparently everyone drives the 50k to Dubbo to buy anything they want, and of course Coles, Woolies and Macdonalds have sent everyone else out of business. Mind you, we went to the Calf&Cow, a remodelled or 'gastro' pub, for dinner, took one look at the menu and the price tag and walked right out again. Unbelievable. Went into the RSL expecting a bistro; found a Chinese upmarket restaurant with Chinese girls in costume, chintzy red lanterns and everything, including weird oriental music. We looked around, we were the only ones there. Bolted for the door, finally found a pub and had bangers and veg and cutlets and veg at a sensible price.

 

OK Ok, here's your snap:

Good news, not-so-good news

The good news is that we are still going, albeit a few days later than expected.
When I say 'not-so-good', I mean that its good that the Basil Cell Carcinoma on my nose can be removed quickly and cleanly, it bad that I left it so long to get a proper opinion about it and the consequence is that we have to wait until Friday week to get the Doc's clearance.

On the same good/almost good news front, we finally have our spare wheel carrier completed and installed. On the back of the Nova we have the normal sort of bumper bar, which held the bike rack and the caravan spare wheel. As we are planning to go a bit feral this time, poking right up into the gulf and other places, I thought it might be a good idea to carry a second spare for the car. The plan was to mount it on the caravan bumper alongside the caravan spare. So I took the original spare wheel bracket off, measured it up and went looking for some metal to make another one. The first place I went wasn't the shop it used to be, but had been replaced by a brand new Metal Shop. They took one look and said they could not only supply the metal but weld it al up as well. Too good to be true, so I gave them money and left the parts and instructions. Wow, what a circus. The welder left the next day, they got someone else, they welded it up back-to-front, they remade it, they got another welder in and on and on and on. Finally after about 5 weeks it was actually finished. They had lost the two caravan wheel nuts, but I was able to replace them cheaply from Lloyds Caravans in Kembla Street Fyshwick, so all ended well.

Put the new tyres on the car, had it serviced and now we are ready to roll. Talk about being all dressed up and nowhere to go!

Ah well, wont be long now and we'll be away. We'll have to cut our stops a bit short to make up for the delay and still get to Broome on time. We've booked tours out of Broome and on the way back a tour of the Bungles so there's no turning back this time.

We've also decided that we can get into El Questro. We were put off by the Pentacost River crossing you hear all about, but it turns out that its the main one down the Gibb River road a bit. The actual crossing into El Questro is only ankle deep.

Can't wait.