Melbourne back to Coffin Bay

Friday 17^th January

Our exit from Melbourne started with me cycling my way across to collect the car in Fitzroy then navigating my way back to the hotel. The GPS made easy work of it, although the morning traffic in Swanston St made progress very slow.  I also suffered from a worsening cold, the sore throat strengthening.

We packed the car, got the bikes stowed away and made our way to the tollway to make a rapid and easy escape from the city traffic. We had registered our car online and we got charged our 75c via a credit card as we passed under a set of cameras. Special number plate recognition software takes care of the rest.  No stopping in long queues, no searching for small change. What a cool system. I’d even sanction tolls on our freeways if it was this easy and I could be certain that all the money would go towards improving public transport but I have my doubts about that. The current government seems to have a different view of things to me when it comes to finances.

The weather had not improved, with another 40 degree day forecast, but with a late cool change expected. We had already decided to head North through Bendigo to access the Murray River, rather than the shorter drive through the Grampians. This proved to be a good choice, with the highway being closed as fires threatened the town of Halls Gap. Fires spread as we travelled. On one 20km stretch of the Calder Highway, we passed around 7 verge grassfires, rapidly taking hold in the 40km/hr winds. They were so regular,  it must have been the work of some lunatic tossing matches or the like. Police and fire trucks sped up and down the highway on both sides, trying in vain to keep up with the growing threat. Later, we heard on the news that two of the road side fires had got away and  damaged properties. We managed to avoid the other fires and made our way through Bendigo and then along the Murray, to research our later boat travels.

One of the many fires along the Calder Freeway.

The little town of Echuca, once a jewel on the river, is still a gem, the little hamlet on the river (partly restored and partly reconstructed) giving some lovely insight into life on the Murray before the coming of the trains. There was a wedding party coming off one of the many paddle steamers available for charter. The guys and gals in their finery all looked absolutely tortured in the stifling conditions, by now pushing 45 degrees. That’s one garter you wouldn’t want to catch.

Old Echuca port

We spent the night in Robinvale, still in Victoria, at a very grassy and green caravan park on the banks of the river. There were lots of holiday makers, most with sleek and powerful ski boats tied up along the banks. The long awaited cool change finally arrived late in the night.

Saturday 18^th January

I awoke to find the cold/flu thing had really taken hold, so Christine did the bulk of the driving. We crossed the river and spent around 100kms or so in New South Wales, cutting off two sides of a triangle as the Murray River curved around. We re-entered Victoria at Mildura then headed West into South Australia. The day was a long day of driving, with frequent stops and lots of exploring sections of river.

Mighty red gums along the Murray

I found myself thinking back to the Murray River summit organised by Kevin Rudd and the hoo-haa over the by-back of water rights. At the time, we heard a lot about the  Murray being the food bowl of Australia and a 10% reduction in water availablity would mean the country would starve, or some such thing.  In reality, all I could see for hundreds of kilometres was oranges and grapes, both of which are part of industries struggling to cope with over supply.  We enjoy our wine, eat lots of sultanas in our muesli and are regular buyers of orange juice but from what I could see, the health of the river comes first. In one town, we were talking to a woman at the tourist centre about boating on the river.  She did point out that at the time we planned to use the river,  there would be a lot of water released from upstream to facilitate the annual water skiing races. Go figure. We are a sports loving nation after all.

One of many river crossing ferries. This one is at Morgan

We drove on into South Australia and the left the river, headed towards Port Augusta, into country with lovely rolling hills and the spectacular Flinders ranges in the distance. We over-nighted in Peterborough, a railway town that once sported three different gauges of railway and now tries desperately hard to capitalise on it.  We set up the tent in steady rain, which thankfully eased by nightfall. We spent a fun hour with a young German couple, working over a map with us giving advice about the best way to get to Canberra. We all spent a lot of time nodding and pretending to understand what the other was saying. God knows where they are now!

Sunday 19^th January

We (well me actually) awoke in the middle of the night to batten down the hatches in the midst of an increasing wind. By morning, it was gale force, and my flu had taken a hold to the point where I didn’t care about anything. I looked on the iPhone and found that Peterborough had a MacDonalds so we packed up quickly and hit the road for a McCafe breakfast. This is a VERY rare thing for us, both being quite happy to never sight another set of Golden Arches again. But then, when there is a need….. Unfortunately, in my flu induced stupor, I failed to notice that the Peterborough McCafe was actually in Cambridgeshire, UK. Our Peterborough couldn’t even raise a roadhouse brekky, a problem that was repeated in the next three towns all the way to Port Augusta. I’ve never been so happy to chow down into a coffee and McWrap.

The drive down through the Flinders Ranges to Port Augusta was spectacular. I was so sick that I even let Christine drive and she was so scared she drove very sedately so we were both able to enjoy it.

The remaining trip back down the Eyre Peninsula to Coffin Bay was routine, with a lunchtime stop at Cowell for fish and chips and a dozen oysters to keep in reserve for another day. It is going to be hard to leave the ready access to cheap top quality oysters.

Cowell. We think they have the best oysters.

We pulled into the caravan park at Coffin Bay to find the boat all safe and sound and began the work of transferring our lives from “back of car” to “on the yacht”.