Week 4 (17th - 23rd April)

Monday 17th April - with strong wind coming out of the interior we had headwinds to contend with most of the way to Andamooka and the opal fields of central South Australia! A 360° view-shed of bruised grey skies with bouts of drizzle added to the vegetation change from open woodland with the occasional flat-topped mesas in the distance to a low windswept scrub. This landscape of flat ironstone plains stretching as far as the eye could see truly brought home the sense of being in the outback. We passed Woomera, the bleakest of bleak sites where, for many years, the Australian government has chosen to detain illegal immigrants. Poor souls - no wonder they stitched up their lips. Lea was haunted by the appearance of this prohibited area.

Andamooka

Andamooka ... A 1950’s time warp of an extraordinary little settlement (population: 400) comprised of prefabricated cabins and tin shacks (at first sight, resembling a squatter settlement on the Cape Flats!) each surrounded by huge mounds of spoil from the opal mines on their doorstep. Tourists are advised not to walk backwards…as this place is a rabbit warren of pits and trenches. Definitely not to wander around the mine sites particularly at night, as they stand a good chance of getting shot! These miners are a law unto themselves and proud of it. The caravan park – a raw patch of sticky red earth with a green mat available at some sites and enclosed by a corrugated iron fence greeted us. What had we come to?
As we drove across this little park to our campsite, mud collected up on the wheels leaving deep tracks behind us. No sooner had George got out and unhitched the van than down came the rain, creating an almighty mess and confining us to the caravan for the rest of the day. Sounds dreadful but it all came to form part of a worthwhile experience.

We were given a warm welcome by the caretaker Arthur Harrison, who had heard from his mining partner, Scotsman Dave that we may visit. Next day, our surrounds began to dry out fast and we didn’t have to go “noodling” for opals in the area demarcated for the public as Arthur kindly offered to take us to the opal mine that he works at Gun Gully. The mine was an open pit with a steep roadway down into it for Arthur’s 4x4! At the bottom, an old Bobcat stood inside what resembled a cave. He started up a small generator to power some lights and an electric jackhammer. After explaining where the opals should lie within the different strata that we could see on the back wall or face of the mine, he started chiselling away.

The jackhammer boy

We both had a go at digging with the jackhammer and in the process got a feel of the hard graft and discomfort involved. The chunks of “rock” that we dug out were surprisingly soft and were crumbled by hand to establish whether there were any opals lurking therein. We unearthed mainly gypsum and found a few slivers of opalised material but NO “parcels” of opals. That afternoon, Arthur gave us a demonstration of how the rainbow matrix or concrete variety of opal are heated and submerged in sugar water to bring out their colour. He brought out a couple of his display cases containing the shaped and polished opals to show us the variations in colour that result and gave us an idea of their value. It was an interesting day. However, the thought of Arthur and his wife, both digging away all day, crouched on their hands and knees, sifting through the spoils in temperatures of 40°C plus, has put both of us clean off the idea of becoming opal miners!

Returning to Port Augusta from the opal fields we passed at least 8 pairs of large wedge-tailed eagles feeding on dead kangaroos beside the Stuart Highway which helped pass the journey hours in this inhospitable landscape despite the blue sky of the day.

Ironstone plains of central South Australia

Once we’d re-supplied and picked up the Lincoln Highway we found that the weather warning, we’d heard the previous evening, was spot on! Gale winds approaching the Eyre Peninsula soon materialised. Battling against the relentless force of the wind we drove as far as Port Gibbon, passing through clouds of dust blowing off farmer’s fields and the workings of the Iron Duke Mine, and found a car park beside the sea to spend the night. A lovely view overlooking a little bay with waves crashing on the rocky shore not 10m away-makes for a satisfying end to the day.

On the Flinders Highway, which hugs the west coast of the Eyre Peninsula, the name Coffin Bay, caught our attention. This area had so much appeal that we decided to stay the night in the Coffin Bay National Park. The park extends along a 30km peninsula that is thickly covered in a diverse array of coastal vegetation. Although largely comprised of dunes, including some large fields of mobile dunes, the shoreline facing the Southern Ocean contains spectacular wave-swept cliffs and long expanses of wide beaches. Happy to sit still for a while - Lea read her book, while I took a drive to the opposite side of the peninsula. I was so awe struck by the views and the ferocity of the wind and waves that I came back to collect her. The wind was so strong that I could scarcely stand and the spray being generated by the waves crashing against the cliffs below covered my camera and glasses in salt.

Turbulent seas - Point Avoid, Coffin Bay National Park

We looked down on what I considered a fearsome sight – huge rollers ceaselessly pounding against the cliffs, foam laced seas seething amongst jagged rocks, cross currents in every direction being formed by the deflection of waves around headlands, submerged reefs and islands. And, way out yonder, according to the notices at the outlook points, great white sharks were said to be lurking.

By the way, after catching sight in my rear view mirror, a pair of Lea’s panties caught on the spare wheel – I realised that I had driven off with the underwear that had been put out to dry on the roof rack! I would have been in deep trouble had they all blown into the ocean.

After a night of rain, we drove out of the park the next morning to the sight of thousands of raindrops glistening amongst the foliage of the bushes. It was good to see a nice calm day had dawned for a change and, in the absence of wind, Skiv literally ate up the miles as she pulled her load steadily northwards. We stopped at a number of lookouts over the Southern Ocean slamming the cliff sides in different directions - memorials to lost men a reminder of its hazards. I got a good photo of our rig parked on the edge of the cliffs with the sea raging below.

The rig perched above cliffs on Great Ocean Tourist Drive - Eliston

After bumping and shaking our way over 40 km. of corrugated gravel roads to Point Labatt Conservation Park we were able to look down onto a beach containing a colony of 40 Australian sea-lions (the country’s most endangered marine mammal). En route we called in to see an oddly shaped outcrop of granite rocks (inselbergs) known as Murphy’s Haystacks. So named, because an Irish agriculturalist passing by in a tourist coach, quipped that the farmer must have been harrowing his fields to have reaped such big haystacks! The tale lived on …

Murphy's Haystacks - pink granite

Nothing like the size of inselbergs found in the Niassa Reserve, Mozambique though.

We are now in a caravan park in Ceduna relaxing quietly for the weekend. Apparently there is a plague of mice along the coastline this season and George easily caught one by hand, releasing it into the dunes. I met a man trapping them humanely within Park facilities BUT then, he leaves them to drown in a bucket of water!

Ahead of us lies the Nullarbor Plain, one of the most unique tracts of unspoilt wilderness on the face of Australia and one of the world’s truly great road journeys. We intend enjoying every inch of the drive and will report back when we reach Perth, 2 000 kms away.

Week 3 (10th - 16th April)

For the past week the weather has not been particularly good (cold and windy) and finding that the pillow of our inflatable mattress had sprung a leak did not help matters either! You would have laughed to have seen the terrible tangle we got into one night whilst trying to sleep with our heads at the other end of Skiv.For much of the week we have busy travelling through the hilly country that surrounds Adelaide including several of the well known South Australian wine growing regions, McLaren Vale (on the Fleurieu peninsula) and the Barossa valley. One of the most memorable villages we stopped at was Hahndorf, an old German settlement renown for its Bavarian charm, souvenir shops, craft outlets, bakeries, cafes and restaurants. We walked down the main street full of trees in autumn garb and grape vines, bought our favourite bratwurst and had tea and cake in a German tearoom. But it was John Graham’s leather shop that really took our fancy!

John Graham's Leather Shop

It comprised a scruffy looking tin shack with a fire going inside; uneven floors; cockatoos in a cage; John Williamson music playing in the background and the intoxicating smell of leather. Liked the character of the place so much that we bought a squashy hat and a new belt! The wording of the many hand written notices displayed left me in hysterics. This rhyme that will appeal to Otto…

“Mary had a little lamb,her father shot it deadand now it goes to school with herbetween two bits of bread”

Another Justy will appreciate - “as you grow old don’t worry about hairs growing out of your ears – it filters out the bullshit”She insists on cutting the hairs in my ears whenever she gives me a haircut!We based up in a cheap municipal caravan park at Eden Valley to explore the Barossa Valley. Close by we found a family tree - a hollow, gnarled old red gum tree, estimated to be 450-500 years old.

Herbig's tree- outside Springton

History has it that in 1855 a German, Freidrich Herbig, lived in it. Eventually married an illiterate peasant girl half his age and between them produced 16 children.A most enthusiastic Information Centre Officer told us about an intriguing “whispering wall”. The four of us decided we had to check that out!


Whispering wall

At a reservoir we found a 36m high concrete arch dam with its curved shape reflecting sounds obliquely off the wall over a distance of 140m. It was uncanny to clearly hear Lea whispering on the other side of the dam!In spite of the noise of the occasional grape trucks rumbling by in the night, our “cheap municipal caravan park” turned out trumps. We met a real character there – Dave, a short sighted, bearded Scot who had spent six years sweating in the heat of the opal fields in Andamooka in central South Australia. His little caravan surrounded by the tools of his trade including a home-made, solar-powered tumbling “machine” (the water tray in which the drum revolved was an old crisper tray from a defunct fridge!). Most fascinating of all was to learn that if repeatedly heated on an open flame, dipped in sugar water and washed, the uninteresting grey rocks that he called “concrete” contained the most marvellous array of colours (“rainbow matrix”) hidden within.


Raw and cooked opals

The colours are brought to the surface by polishing and shaping the “cooked rocks” on a grinder. We are hooked… Have decided to detour into the opal fields to see if we can strike it lucky!First mishap for the novice… After the front end of the caravan collapsed onto the turf when I didn’t tighten the jockey wheel adequately. The net result was that I had to jack it up and execute some swift repairs to one of the front legs as the pins enabling it to swivel had bent. A good lesson learnt.Easter Saturday - we spent our last day in the city of Adelaide with Joe & Mona before dropping them off with their friends. It is a gracious city for sure with its wide streets, old buildings and extensive parklands. We enjoyed lunch in the warm sun overlooking the Torrens River.Easter Sunday afternoon now finds us perched at Hancocks Lookout on the edge of Mount Remarkable National Park with a panoramic view over Spencers Gulf. A marvellous spot from which to compile our weekly blog.

Week 2 (3rd - 9th April)

Skiv roared into life with the first touch of the key, giving forth the beautiful throaty chuckle which I have always loved about diesel engines, and before long we were heading for the South Australia border travelling on the Coastal Explorer’s Highway. To add to my delight Lea discovered a temperature / humidity gauge in Skiv’s cab … so I am in my element. En route we played Sacky’s caravan hits that she had selected for us but at full volume the speakers make a shocking clacking noise! We have learnt to wave at oncoming caravans as we are now one of Australia’s caravan family!


On loop road through Coorong National Park

Temperature at 8.00hrs these mornings are a chilly 5.9°C- so much for leaving England for warmer climes! Ever since reading “Storm Boy” we have been keen to visit the Coorong National Park – a massive elongated coastal lagoon (Ramsar site) lying immediately behind a narrow dune-field comprised of sediments from Australia’s largest river, the Murray. Travelling on corrugated roads brought forth little problems to be rectified once we get to Perth. The more trials we subject the van to in the interim the better.


Campsite below Bowhill Lookout


Murray River at Big Bend

Our guide book Camps Australia Wide is proving a most useful reference and we have slept over in pretty rest areas along the Princes Highway enabling us to reach Adelaide on schedule for our first guests from the UK Joe and Mona Skehel (ex Kariba) en route back from a holiday in New Zealand. We’d planned to explore a bit of South Australia together.This gave us a chance to test out Skiv’s bed in the back of the Cruiser. We have been as snug as a bug on these cold wet nights. We met up on top of Mount Lofty lookout and spent the next two nights in Murray Bridge. Not to be beaten by the weather we spent an afternoon visiting an historic village (Old Tailem Town) set up in 1982 to replicate how pioneers lived in the colony. All this revived many recollections for the four of us - some reminiscent of earlier days in Rhodesia!


Sundowners at our campsite

We had every intention to visit Kangaroo Island. However, the cost of crossing on the ferry was prohibitive and we still had to consider Park and camping fees so those plans went out the window! Similarly, we discovered that boat trips on the Murray River were either on uninteresting stretches of the waterway or required a good few days away. We made do by driving upstream to a point 200 km from the mouth, stopping at the lookouts that provided good views of the river. This enabled us to locate a nice spot between the river and a set of steep cliffs for a private camp of our own. Flocks of colourful galahs to entertain us, kookaburras calling at sunset and, during supper a steady drone alerted us to an enormous paddle steamer (4 decks high, all lit up) passing by.As the week drew to a close we set off for the Fleurieu Peninsula (south of Adelaide) and the town of Goolwa to see the barrages that have been built across the estuary to prevent the ingress of sea water. At Victor Harbour we walked out on the 600m causeway that leads to Granite Island – a small nature reserve renown for the colony of Little Penguins. While camping in Deep Creek Conservation Park we discovered that the fittings on the barbeque did not fit the external gas outlet on the caravan – so Lea had to do the sausages under the grill.So far, she has excelled herself as the camp cook.This, our second bulletin, is prepared in a small caravan park in a sleepy little village called Second Valley. Enabling us to get laundry done, catch up on correspondence and have a day off in the sun.YES! The sun…

Week 1 (27th March - 2nd April)

First port of call on arrival in Melbourne was to see our new caravan. It seemed enormous! Inside, with all its cupboards, switches and gadgets it looked even better than we had imagined and we were relieved to see that our remote caravan mover had been successfully fitted.Now a hunt for a Toyota Land Cruiser for towing was imperative! A Troop carrier in Torquay, 65km from Melbourne, with a large family of garden snails living comfortably on the engine block was a no no! During peak traffic hours we crept towards the eastern suburbs of Melbourne to view another Troopy - 1999 model, with 135 000km on the clock and everything we desired from long range tanks, dual batteries, electric brakes, snorkel, tow bar, winch, roof rack, two spare wheels, air conditioner, comfortable front seats, bed-boards, high lift jack, compressor, full recovery kit and emergency spares. The number plate letters began with SKV so Lea named the vehicle “Skiv” since it is to be the skivy in our life.Our week deadline marched on with all the red tape required arranging insurance and registration documents. Thanks to a surprise visit from Andy and Nuala, who joined us in our cabin for a couple of nights, they were able to help with the collection of “Skiv”. Finally, on Friday 31st March, “hook up day” dawned – ten years to the day since we left South Africa. The technician gave us a run down on how everything worked totally addling our brains. Nervous about dragging what seemed like a monster behind us we finally had the wheels of “our rig” rolling on the open road by mid afternoon. Being buffeted by the wind of passing trucks and road trains we made our way to Puckapanyal through some picturesque Australian country on the Great Divide, to overnight with the Heinrich family. Robyn taught with Lea in Darwin.

The round Australia rig

With the weather starting to turn cold, strong winds and showers of rain, we headed back south towards the Great Ocean Road. Moving slowly because of the twists and turns as well as the steep gradients, we found ourselves making frequent use of the numerous “turnouts” provided for slow moving vehicles. A spectacular drive but we could not help feeling that the forest cover (tall eucalyptus) screened many of the views of the ocean. In one spot a koala, fast asleep in roadside tree, had created a mini-traffic jam. After passing through the rugged Otway National Park we turned off the main road and found a semi-deserted campsite at Johanna Beach and with a couple of hours to spare before dark busied ourselves sorting things out – Lea packing away our clothes and groceries in the caravan, remaking our bed and soon getting our new home ship-shape. While the wind blew and a light drizzle set in we relished the comfort of “Getaway” - hot noodles for supper, quiet music playing, comfy seating and an invitingly warm bed to climb into. Sheer luxury!With the weather still cold we dived out of the caravan and got the heater fired up in the cab while Skiv slowly pulled Getaway up a steep, corrugated road back towards the GOR. Once in the Port Campbell National Park we were blown away by the many best known views …. the Twelve Apostles, the Loch Ard Gorge, the Island Archway, the Razorback; not to mention the most spectacular array of limestone cliffs all being gradually pounded to pieces by huge swells rolling in from the southern ocean. The wind was so cold that we had to pull out our lumber-jackets to keep warm! Who was it that said England was cold and Australia was the land of warmth and sunshine?


The Twelve Apostles

Around every corner lay more and more dramatic views of the coastline characterised by tall yellow coloured stacks - some balanced on thin pedestals, others with holes (arches) remaining, deep foam covered inlets, caves and blowholes. The wreck of the Loch Ard, a cargo ship from England that came to grief on the coast on 1st June 1878 fascinated us as all 54 of the people on board were lost and in the small, scrub encroached cemetery we noted the dead included a family of seven. The area was also renown for the large number of mutton birds (50 000 short-tailed shearwaters) that nest on the stacks, the birds coming all the way from the Aleutian islands in Alaska, 30 000kms away!In Port Fairy we booked into a caravan park in order to get some laundry done, have a hot shower and download some pictures. Our first week was over. We are living our dream.