Tag: Wilcannia

Outback NSW 2026

13 August, Enngonia – We travelled through Cunnamulla, stopping to do a spot of shopping at the IGA and, of course, the bakery. Cunnamulla is a town that simply drips outback, stock trucks rattle down the road every few minutes and there are lots of checked shirts and boots in evidence. Further south, we crossed the border into NSW, and magically, the road improved. Let’s hope it stays that way.

We stopped for the afternoon in the little town of Enngonia. It is a town with a couple of blips on its history, with the Hospital Creek Massacre of local indigenous people in 1854, the shooting of the famed bushranger Captain Midnight (Robbery Under Arms), and an incident in 1973 when Dr Fred Hollows experienced first hand discrimination against aboriginal people in his party at the Oasis Hotel, leading to the passing of the Racial Discrimination Act in 1975.

We stayed at the back of the Oasis Hotel in a free camp. The hotel is doing a great job, attracting a good set of caravans each night and enjoying increased custom as a result. We enjoyed a yarn around a lovely campfire with other travellers. We all had a laugh when a donkey wandered through the main bar and out through the front. The publican said the donkey was a town icon and enjoyed a beer.

14 August, Bourke – Bourke does not have a great reputation amongst travellers, with reported petty crime from parks in the town. Some say that things have improved of late. Even so, we elected to stay out of town at North Bourke, on the other side of the Darling River. We dropped the van off in the Kidman Camp Park and headed into town to find the post office and retrieve a parcel posted to us by our good friend Carol. It proved to be a pair of stainless steel goblets from the Balingup Medieval Fair. Anything to do woth wine is always a welcome addition to our caravan.

The town was neat and tidy, with a beautiful main street, although many shops were empty and most had heavy roller shutters on them, always a sign of issues. There are some lovely old buildings from Bourke’s heyday as a major river port, with enormous loads of wool shipping out to the Murray ports downstream.  The old wharf precinct has been made into a static museum. Having swapped a gas bottle and fuelled the car, we headed back to the park to take a cruise on a paddle steamer.

The Jandra is a modern recreation of one of the old Darling River boats, constructed in 2000. Technically, it is not a steamer because it has a diesel engine, but it is still paddle wheel driven. Along the way, we had an informative commentary about the Darling River, and the changes that can occur through floods and drought. The Darling is fed by rainfall in the Great Divide inland of Brisbane and so tropical cyclone events can result in rapid rises all the way down in Bourke. It is amazing to think that the rain that falls within less than 100km from Brisbane can end up flowing into the sea in South Australia. The banks are generally steep with little in the way of access points for humans or cattle. The goats manage, with a network of narrow goat tracks crisscrossing most banks. A few old river red gum giants line the banks, although most trees these days are smaller regrowth after much of the big timber was decimated to feed the boilers in the old days.

The cruise took us downstream under the old steel draw bridge that allowed steamers to pass in times of high river. Nowadays, a concrete bridge takes the highway over the river. It was a lovely, relaxing cruise and helped us learn much about this iconic river.

15, 16 August, Cobar – It was an easy 260km drive south to Cobar. With the black soil plains behind us and the land being flat red sand plains woodlands, the roads were much better than those in Queensland. In the main, they were smooth and of a good width.  The big delight was the multitude of goats that lined the road taking advantage of the lush green grass. They came in all colours and types, from plain black or white short haired types, to angoras and cashmeres with long coats and huge sets of horns. We have never seen a dead goat as road kill, I think they are smart enough to know better.

When we got to Cobar, we sought out the free parking area near the old copper mine. It was only early afternoon but already the big area was full, and we had to squeeze in. Across the road, there were more vans and a continual stream passing by. We assume they are headed to Broken Hill for the Mundi Mundi Bash, a three day music festival that attracts thousands. The line up of talent is Australian Music Royalty. Unfortunately, there are no tickets left, although the $795 a head price might have put us off anyway. We can expect a lot of van traffic heading west over the next few days.

After lunch, we walked over to the Great Cobar Mine Museum to go through the exhibits. The area has been a major mining centre for Copper, Lead, Zinc and Gold since the 1870s, A very sad memorial has been created to those who died in mining accidents, all put in a timeline, showing just how dangerous things were in times past. Even in modern times, there are still deaths, with three this century.

We ended up staying another day in the free park in Cobar, not being able to secure any accommodation in Broken Hill until the 18th August due to the Mundi Mundi Bash. The stream of caravans heading west continues and the park, although not quite as full, still holds a lot of vans. Rain is forecast for areas to the west of us, which is bad news for the Bash attendees. It also narrows our options for going places en-route to Broken Hill because unsealed roads in wet weather are not an option.

On the Sunday before the Mundi Mundi Bash, the town hosts some markets delightfully called the Sundi Sundi Markets. They were not really very special, with only a few stalls and a couple of food trucks. The lone singer was pretty good and entertained us. We bought a jar of relish and some more lemon butter. Other than that, wandering down the main streets of town and watching football filled in the time.

17, 18 August, Barrier Highway – We could not get a caravan park booking in Broken Hill until the Wednesday that the Mundi Mundi cranked up and the crowd would head out. We decided to spend a couple of days on the road doing the 400km trip in three stages, stopping at two rest stops overnight. We had to select these carefully because rain was forecast and parking up on red dirt was not an option. The short hops proved useful because it meant we arrived early and had the pick of the spots, everything filling up as the afternoon wore on. The traffic remained heavy, with many people travelling in convoys. The biggest we saw was eight caravans. This isn’t an issue if they spread out on the road, but many don’t, and they cause a lot of frustration as people battle to pass them.

The other frustration is that people are using radio Channel 40, the trucking channel, to yack between cars and don’t seem to care when they are told to get off 40 and use Channel 18, reserved for convoys.

Social media is filling up with scenes of the chaos out on the Mundi Mundi Plains when they had 10mm of rain overnight. Things turned into a mud patch. It was difficult getting in, with a 15km long queue forming at the gate. It is a massive affair and brings a lot of much needed money into the western NSW communities at a time when pastoralism isn’t doing so well. The logistics of 6500 caravans and campers with 15000 people getting to such a remote location is mind blowing.

With a 15 to 20 knot wind behind us on a flat road, the driving was easy. The country has some lovely displays of mixed red box tree and mulga with a carpet of lush green grass underneath. The goats continue to be the main livestock, and we are constantly entertained by them as they trot around followed by tiny, cute kids.

Another advantage of the heavy traffic for the Bash was that the roadside rest stops had been given extra portable toilets to cater, providing a welcome alternative to the usual old stinky long drop.

19,20 August, Broken Hill – We only had a short run into Broken Hill and we arrived at the Broken Hill Outback Resort, about 10km out of the city, very early, made a half hour earlier when we crossed into the SA time zone that Broken Hill uses.. There were vans and motorhomes everywhere, mostly parked in huge mud holes or set up on grassed area that resembled a small lake. The problem was, that the Mundi Mundi organisers had closed the gates, deeming the grounds to be unsafe for more vans. There were a lot of people who could not travel out to the venue and were chasing accommodation.

Fortunately, we had booked two nights, so the manager made sure we got in to the caravan park. However, we helped out by setting up to one side of our site and allowing half our site to combine with the adjoining one so it could accommodate four camper vans, all part of a group. The people had only a single day ticket for the Bash and were already facing the probability that they would not be able to use it. As the day progressed, they got the news that they would get refunds, but no access. Only people with multiple day passes were getting in as the conditions permitted. People seemed very philosophical about the situation, even those who had drive more than a 1000km at great expense to be there. The rain event was the biggest 5 day rain for Broken Hill on record.

With more rain forecast the next day, we headed into the town while it was dry. We wandered the main streets, admiring the wonderful old buildings. The Palace Hotel is a major landmark and was heavily populated with rain drenched travellers. The town doesn’t look prosperous, with many empty shops and buildings. The mine remains productive, still the richest silver/lead/zinc lode in the world after 130 years of mining but mechanisation means the mines are not the huge employers they once were. The mine itself dominated the city centre, huge piles of overburden framing many street views.

Around the suburbs are some incredibly beautiful stone houses, often nestled between a couple of corrugated iron shacks that look like they are held up with fencing wire. We stopped in at the Pro Hart Gallery and marvelled at the incredible works of this amazing man.  His wonderful streetscapes with iconic sticklike figures dominated the pieces, but the variety showed the talent of the man. He was a sculptor, jewellery designer and brilliant painter. His collection of Rolls Royce and Bentley cars, one painted in his style, were displayed outside, and across the road, a park filled with his metal sculptures. Christine bought a print of Pro standing alongside his painted Rolls Royce.

We found a Woolworths in a large shopping centre. Here, the economic state was much in evidence, with very few shops other than the supermarket and some banks still open. Even a bakery was shut down, a bad sign.

The second day was very wet, and a lot of people clawed their way out of the mud and headed home. We got full use of our site again. We watched the comings and goings happy that we were staying put. Social media was full of pictures of the mud slides and cars being extracted from bogs. It was good to see that a few of the big name acts came in to town and performed at the Palace Hotel to cater for those who missed out. There was also an impromptu concert out at Silverton, 25km out of town. 2026 will be remembered as the Muddy Mundi Bash.

From Broken Hill, it is only a short drive westwards before we enter South Australia. It is really starting to feel like we are headed home.

Westwards to Home

Thursday 9 October to 5 November

The Big Trip Home

With the Whitsunday sailing done and dusted, it was time to think about heading home, all 5,500km of it. We had some people to see on along the way and some places to sail so we gave ourselves plenty of time. It was pretty clear that Christine’s knee is ready for some serious attention and she was not ready for more sailing so, at some point along the way, we abandoned the idea of more sailing and really picked up on the idea of going home, so things accelerated somewhat.

From Airlie Beach, we did a quick run down the 150km to Mackay in the Greyhound Bus to pick up the car and trailer and a quick run back to Airlie. With Sandpiper safely back on land, we set off south once more.

Kilcoy – Our new friends, Steve and Denise, had some upcoming commitments so we made Kilcoy our first stop and caught up. As with our previous visits, the food and wine flowed to excess and we all had a wonderful couple of days stacking on the kilos. It was also a great opportunity to give Sandpiper a serious clean and take care of a few urgent running repairs. It was nearly tears all round when we finally pulled out of Kilcoy. It has become our second home.

The Sunshine Coast – With so many good friends from PVI on the Sunshine Coast, a stay back in that part of Queensland was essential. We had a truly wonderful time, catching up with a good PVI crowd while staying in Noosa with the McKennas, then more sailing and good times staying with Glenn and Gail in Wurtulla, near Caloundra. Glenn and I managed another sail in “Shiraz”, winning as usual. Christine and Gail got into the quilting together, which means that the knitting has been put aside for some Xmas quilts. We spent some more time in a caravan park at Alex Beach, near Maroochydore, and did plenty of walking, cycling and exercising to try to negate some of the excessive living.

Cycling around the Maroochy River

Cycling around the Maroochy River

Christine needed an invasive body test after getting a bad reading on a routine bowel cancer scan. Fortunately, Gail managed to secure her a colonoscopy without the usual nine week wait so we hung around for an extra week. As we suspected, all was good but it was best to be sure before pressing on. Somehow though, during that week, I grew accustomed to the idea of going home and so we abandoned plans of more sailing and pushed on south to commence the 4570km trip ahead of us.

Ballina – No trip down the Pacific Highway could be complete without a stop at Kilcoy to catch up with Jack and Jude. These two are such good company.  We all share a love of the sea, fine food and a good wine. Jack and Jude are planning to rejoin their boat, “Banyandah” in December but are yet to decide on a sailing destination. So many tough choices. We spent a couple of nights with them and took a trip down to the Bangalow markets on the Sunday in search of some suitable hedging plants. It was a great excuse to further explore the area and an even better excuse to stop at Lennox Head for a pub meal and a beer or two. We left them to return to their peaceful life with promises of catching up should their sailing take them west to Albany and pushed on south to Taree.

After an overnight stop at the Taree show grounds, we followed the Pacific Highway down to Newcastle then turned inland and up the Golden Highway to Dubbo. This is one of the easiest passes up the Great Divide and we enjoyed the chance to get away from the heavy traffic of the A1. The drive to Dubbo was very pretty, with the vegetation gradually changing from forest to woodlands and then to more open grasslands.

Return Trip 8Dubbo – Dubbo is a significant regional centre with a population of around 40,000. The town looked reasonably prosperous with an interesting town centre. We stayed a couple of nights and spent part of one day at the Taronga Western Plains Zoo. We usually aren’t “zoo” people but this one is different enough to attract us. Instead of the usual cages and small enclosures, the animals live in large paddock sized environments and there is heavy use made of moats and electric fences to restrict movement. The grounds are very extensive, the full circuit being 6.5km in length so we used our folding bikes to do the tour. It is possible to drive but this would mean a lot of parking and Return Trip 9walking. Hiring a golf cart is another option and would be a good choice for family groups. For us, the highlight exhibits were the giraffes and the rhinos, both black and white types. The zoo tends to concentrate on breeding endangered species and has notched up many notable successes. It was a most worthwhile visit.Return Trip 7

 

 

 

 

 

Around Broken Hill – The long dry drive from Dubbo west to Broken Hill rivals the Nullabor Plain and the Barkley Tablelands for sheer boredom. Long, flat and straight roads are the rule. Emus outnumber vehicles and towns look like wearing a six shooter is compulsory. The temperature was in the very high thirties and a punishing headwind saw the vehicle temperature climb a little. Turning the air-conditioner off solved the problem but made the discomfort levels soar. The Darling River cuts across the road at Wilcannia, once the third largest river port in the country but now a forlorn collection of incredibly beautiful old stone buildings. We stopped overnight just out of Wilcannia on a station called Warrawong on the Darling which has established a very nice caravan park.

Making friends with an emu at

Making friends with an emu at Warrawong on the Darling.

The owners put on a barbecued goat (of which there is absolutely no shortage) and invited all guests to share a meal free of charge. It was an entertaining night and the goat was excellent, so much so that Christine sliced off sections to supplement our lunch meals along the way. Once past Broken Hill, the far distant Flinders Ranges became our target, crossing into South Australia and pushing west to Petersborough. The head-wind was intense but the temperature had at least eased a little so the climb into the Flinders was not too bad.

The Nullabor Crossing – Our fourth Nullabor crossing this year was the first without rain. Except for another day of fierce headwinds, the weather was quite mild and conditions comfortable, boredom being the only real enemy. We drive strict 100km rotations, to keep our minds active, the body rested and the waits between drives short. Christine at least has her quilting. I just sit or managed short naps. I have difficulty reading in a moving car. Some 40km short of the WA border, we came across a 4WD and caravan roll-over. Thankfully, no one was hurt, the driver being a retiree from Wanneroo travelling alone with his lovely miniature collie dog. He had just lost control of the rig and it ended up sliding down a short embankment and rolling. We weren’t first on the scene and others had managed to get him out safely. A police escort for an over-width convoy happened on the scene within minutes and organised help from Eucla so we elected to stay with the driver and his dog to watch for signs of stress or shock. When the police team from Eucla showed up around 40 minutes later, we pushed on, through quarantine and finally back into WA.Return Trip 4

Quarantine inspections are a process that involves more rules than logic or understanding. We had the Internet, lots of road signage, advice from traveller forums and a guide book but still we couldn’t get a handle on what is allowed and what is not. The inspectors could not handle the concept of us living in a boat, preferring to hunt through the back of the car for plants and food despite being clearly told that we lived in the boat and that there was a fridge and lots of food. Only one inspector even climbed the ladder into the boat and he wouldn’t actually enter the cabin. Perhaps they tend to suffer from sea-sickness.

Return Trip 2Walkers and Riders – It is hard to imagine just how many people are currently riding or walking around Australia, either to fulfil a personal goal or to raise money for charity. We saw a lot of cyclists crossing the Nullabor. One time, we pulled over to change drivers and then realised that there was a very skinny little Japanese fellow pulling a cart and heading straight towards us. He obviously thought we had stopped to talk to him and he beamed as he put down his cart and came over to shake our hands. He showed us his cart and the map on the side, illustrating where he had been. He was following Highway One right around. He had virtually no English and our Japanese matched that so it was a conversation filled with lots of bowing and pointing.Return Trip 3

The Last Night – We spent our final night of our big road trip parked in woodlands next to the Bodallin Memorial, a sad remembrance of the three truckies that lost their life in the tragic bushfires of 2007. After a drive of over 4000km in around a fortnight, our respect for truckies has been strengthened. There are a few impatient ones out there but in the main they do a great job of looking out for the touring public, despite the fact that there seems to be too many caravanners and backpackers on the road who don’t know how to handle their rigs. We were home in Dowerin by 11am the next day, ready to start the big unpack. The sight of the weed growth in the yards was heartbreaking, especially since I had left the place clear at the end of August during our last trip home. Some good October rains have produced a whole new weed crop. The bonus is that the fruit trees are bearing and the passion vine is loaded so all is not lost. The work begins.

We were away from January 4 to November 4 2014

  • travelled 27,500km in the car
  • travelled about 800km on the water
  • came home three times during the trip, driving from Port Lincoln once and flying from Sydney and Brisbane
  • spent $500,000 on fuel (at least it felt like it)
  • met lots of wonderful new friends that we remain in contact with
  • caught up with lots of old friends from previous travels

Wow! Must start getting ready for the next trip.

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