August 5th & 6th 2022
Accommodation at the Broken hill outback resort is situated 14km outside Broken Hill on the main highway to Wilcannia, Cobar and Bourke. The resorts web pages have a romantic view of campfires and outback pub atmosphere much suited to the adventure traveller. I found the room a little tired, red dust had stained everything and although clean just gave it a tired look but Amanda always the practical one found it more than adequate, it did have kitchenette, although small and even a leather sofa in front of a flat screen tv, a coffee table and plenty of wardrobe space all contained within a very small area. The building forms a long line of rooms raised off the ground, with steps to a wooden walkway that gives access to your room. Underneath the timber framed building is obviously not insulated our delicate feet, not used to walking on cold floors gave up a little yelp as we visited the bathroom in the wee hours of the morning. The resort is popular, contains a pub within it, there is very little lighting as we walk the 100 or so meters over to the building that houses the reception, bar and restaurant. Amanda uses her phone to light the way, as we walk through the caravan park that sits in front of our room. Soft light emanates from the caravans adding to the outback campsite charm. The pub is busy, not one mask insight and we have forgotten ours, it offers all kinds of pub style food, pasta, pizza, steaks even Nasi goreng and a chicken korma, we go for a veggie deluxe pizza that features a heap of pumpkin, it’s big like everything out here, slightly underdone, the staff are busy, the kitchen is overrun with orders I notice one patron sending back his meal to be further cooked, Amanda asks for another glass of Chardonnay the bar maid pours a quarter of a glass and tells me they have run out, the quarter glass is on the house she says, I think she means she’s run out of that brand but no, Amanda has drunk the pub dry of Chardonnay. On our way back to our room we look up at the stars, the Milky Way shines in all its glory as billions of stars have filled the now midnight blue dome from horizon to horizon in a 360 degree plane, a magnificent sight after the mostly cloud filled skies of a Stirling winter.
It’s morning the expansive outback sky a pale blue fading to white with clouds at the horizon is still there when we wake, Amanda sees her first sunrise in awhile watching the darkness make way for a watercolour wash of pink and pale blue grow to cover the inside of our big sky. Time to have breakfast and make our way to Bourke some 602 kilometres away. Broken Hill although in New South Wales is set on South Australian time, we set our clocks forward by 30 minutes making it 9.30am when we leave. We turn on to the highway the GPS advises for the next 451 Kilometres ahead, keep straight on. Our fist stop is Wilcannia 197 kilometres away the landscape is low scrub but the colours are vibrant after the recent rains, sage, rust, charcoal, olive and gold feathery topped grasses, with a touch of purple here and there that could be Salvation Jane or in NSW known as Patersons curse, all on a backing of terracotta earth. There is water pooled on the side of the road in places, remarkably the feral goats are ever present grazing in small groups or just Mum and kids, occasionally we see the larger Billy goat males with a variety of Horn shapes twisted into different configurations. A stretch of road that goes on for tens of kilometres is lined with golden straw coloured grasses that form a contrast between the black asphalt and the multi coloured scrub beyond. We reach Wilcannia, stopping for a quick look around, the town is well past its glory days remnants of the original settlers buildings still exist but are badly weathered by the red dust and baking sun. Wilcannia is on the Darling river that has recently flooded all along its length some 1472km, we try to find a park where we can view the river, turning off when we see a riverside caravan park. The park is abandoned recently flooded, I can just see the top of a riverside park bench sticking out of the water.
We make our way back to the road for the next leg, Cobar, an old copper mining town. The GPS says turn left on Barrier highway and keep straight on for 241 km. There are many opportunities to stop along the way at rest spots for truckers and travellers alike, with varying facilities ranging from none to picnic tables, water tanks and outback loos. We stop at one such spot around 12.30pm for a cuppa and some picnic lunch. The wind that followed us yesterday still persists and although it is a warm 20c the wind quickly chills. There are a few travellers at the stop with four wheel drives towing a variety of high clearance caravans behind them that are suitable for off road adventures. One by one they come and go, then it is our turn to hit the black top once again. We are small and fast cutting through the wind the caravans slow and cumbersome as they fight the sometimes buffeting cross currents. The landscape continues to change, sometimes rocky, at times two metre silvery leaved mop topped bushes take over. In one area that stretches for kilometres these bushes look manicured, with taller conical shaped trees behind them it is as if we have entered a vast park, lush green low growing vegetation covers the ground looking freshly mowed. The feral goats have pleached the bushes making the trunks bare of foliage and of a uniform height. The sight is quite beautiful and completely natural. The only other wild life we see apart from the feral goats are emus usually thankfully inside the property fence line, one sighting is of a dad and his chicks now almost grown to his own height (Emu dads perform the task of hatching and raising of the chicks) they are much lighter in colour than their parent, as we pass they seem to stretch their necks skyward towards their father no doubt still looking for an easy feed. A lizard scampers across the road in front of us as quick as a flash and disappears into the scrub on the opposite side of the road. We reach Cobar and stop off to refresh, we will be travelling this way our on way back to take a look around.
Back on the road as we now head north again, the afternoon sun always low in the sky at this time of the year creates a magical light casting long shadows across the road from the taller trees along the roadside. The Cumulus clouds have slowly increased in number and size as the day has progressed sometimes casting large shadows. The temperature has remained fairly constant throughout the day at around 20 degrees. We will be Back ‘o’ Bourke around 4.30pm NSW time. Bourke is so remote that the name became inshrined in Australian slang, synonymous with the outback, any one referring to a remote outback place would just say Back ‘o’ Bourke. In the late 1890s Bourke was a major inland port for wool. At its peak, the Bourke Wharf had three steam driven cranes handling 40,000 bales of wool a year. This was shipped down the Darling to ports in South Australia and Victoria, then sent by rail to Adelaide and Melbourne for local textiles and export. Following the advent of irrigation on farms in the 1880s, cotton, citrus fruits and wheat were also shipped by paddle steamers. The paddle steamers used massive amounts of timber, sourced from the riverbank to fuel boilers for power, causing a long-term reduction in habitat for animals and riverbank stability. They were also responsible for large-scale removal of fallen trees (snags) from the river to improve river navigation.
We arrive in Bourke around 4.30pm our accomodation is the aptly named Bridge Inn as its sits adjacent to the original steel and timber bridge across the Darling river opened in 1883.
The bridge looks very much abandoned, hopefully it will feature as a tourist attraction at some future more prosperous time.
The accomodation actually situated on Bogan Street (we tried not to hold this against them) is quaint painted burgundy and cream hinting at its existence in some earlier time period. Fairly spacious but lacking some mod cons like a wardrobe. It does have a certain charm but I have to admit there are some drawbacks, a few light bulbs missing here and there and a singing toilet, yes when you flush it lets out a long mournful wail for more than a few seconds.
Dinner is at the Bourke Bowling Club we are not members but are reliably informed they serve the best Chinese in town, the only Chinese in fact. The sky is red with a magnificent fiery sunset as as we make our way to dinner, we booked for an early meal and arrive on time, parking on the road outside, angle parking only boot to the curb, apparently that’s they way they park in Bourke. The food is great, we haven’t had Chinese for a long time preferring authentic rather than westernised versions. This is westernised food but extremely fresh and delicious, after some entrees of Spring Rolls, Dim Sims we have Honey Prawns and Lemon Chicken.
This morning after breakfast we drop by the visitors centre to see if they can add any words of advise as to the sites of Bourke. We had planned to take a ride on the little paddle steamer Jandra but the boat is unable to sail in waters over 7 metres with the recent floods the level rose well in excess of that height, although receding the water had still not dropped enough to enable the steamer to launch, unfortunately we will miss this treat.
We decide to take a walk around town to the historic Port Bourke where the old wharf still stands and along the riverbank. Red tailed, Black cockatoos are every where making a raucous noise we observe them swooping around the tree tops on the river bank.
In town itself there are a few historical buildings, the Lands Department and Courts are of exceptional design, a lot of thought went into keeping them cool in the long hot outback summers long before the time of air conditioning. Also the Post Office, and London Bank now a Guest House.
After another simple homemade picnic lunch we take a look at a mural painted on a water tank, painting on country town silo’s has become quite a thing but this is slightly different. Painted by Lightening Ridge artist John Murray on a disused water tower, the murals subject is Percy Hobson the first Indigenous athlete to win a gold medal at a Commonwealth games, the achievement took place in 1962 at the Perth Commonwealth games. Aged 20 he cleared 6′ 11″ (2.11m) setting a new Games record.
Last stop the historic cemetery, the last stop for townsfolk of all denominations since pioneering days. Laid to rest here are Afghan Camel drivers, bush poets, a policeman shot by Captain Starlight, a notorious bush ranger and many too young pioneers that became victim of the age they lived in. Fred Hollows the acclaimed eye surgeon is also buried here known world wide for returning eyesight to the poor and underprivileged in the world notably Australian aborigines, but also in poorest parts of Africa, Nepal and many third world countries.
Dinner tonight is at the Port of Bourke Hotel, the usual pub fare very outback country with lots of characters. The steak appeals so we choose a rump, with salad and chips. On the subject of meat, the locals have made an industry out of the explosion of feral goats in the area after the 7 year drought, thankfully goat wasn’t on the menu, we would enjoy it but not so much after seeing so many on this trip. The meat is mainly exported to the USA a large Billy can bring up to $500.00 a head, believe us when we say there are millions of dollars walking around out there manicuring the roadside.
Tomorrow we drive to Charleville 613km north, situated in South East Queensland.