Goodbye

Far in the distance, rising out of the flat plain land, Mt Kaputar was a splendid sight. The rise and fall of the mountain range bought us a sense of familiarity, a welcoming sight. The National Park, of which Mt Kaputar calls home, covers a vast area. In the far north of the park is Sawn Rocks. Ancient lava crystals having cooled at the same time have formed ‘organ pipe’ like structures. Looking somewhat man-made (they aren’t), the ones here are the best example in the world.

Sawn Rocks, Mt Kaputar NP, near Narrabri

Long walks up and down the mountain range inhabit the south of the park. Fortunately I had my driver (Dave) to drive us to the tip of the highest mountain. The road was steep and windy, the landscape changing from shrubs to Snow Gums. The thin air was chilly at the top, and we really expected it to snow at any moment. But the view was worth it- 360 degrees far into the distance. Infact, we could see right out to the Warrumbungles, some 94 miles away.

On top of the world... well Mt Kaputar walk, it's cold up here!







Aaaah, the Warrumbungles, so close to home (Sydney), but one of our all time favourites. The sight of primeval volcanic craters and plugs has a rather sophisticated elegance. The vision is grand and unspoilt, unlike flat Australia which has mostly been turned into grazing land. Iconic Australian’s must also agree this is a top spot because our camp was surrounded by kangaroos, emus and a koala perched in a tree!











Our neighbour, Warrumbungles

Knowing we would soon be back in city life, we decided to ‘do the big one’- the Grand High Tops walk. Much of the path is now paved, but oh so steep and with over 1,000 steps to the heady heights, it is still a challenge. However, the reward was something we could have soaked up all day. Looking down on the famous ‘Breadknife’ and across sweeping valleys we picnicked savouring the view as much as our food.

Lunch with a view, looking down on the Breadknife

Camped by a babbling brook, we spent our last evening here enjoying a tipple and reflecting on the last 23 months. Our ‘holiday’ was ending on a high note, even the kangaroos putting on a show for us. Tipping out of Mum’s warm pouch was the youngest joey we have ever seen. With only a whisper of fur, the fragile infant looked so vulnerable as Mum struggled to get him back home (were is the camera when you need it!).



The memories will last...

The rain came out, the kangaroos persisted in staying out and soon our house with a view was in a white out. As the mist enveloped the ranges, it was time to leave. Mudgee was to be our last stop- we needed some gifts and Mudgee Wineries were getting our cash. The rain continued, so our sojourn was short, but Mudgee is somewhere we would like to come back too........ along with other favourites from our 700 days ‘on the wallaby’.

Green Fields

Before our eyes the trees appeared taller, more dense and the cows were no longer the drought resistant Brahman. Our approach into Charleville brought more familiar surroundings and cattle. We were still in the outback, but with recent plentiful rains, the grounds were rich in feed. However, that didn’t stop the horses eating everything in sight in the Station cum Caravan Park where we resided. Goodbye herbs.....


Horses in the Caravan Park, Charleville

Charleville proved a great spot to spend a while. On the main route north and west, it has capitalised on a captive tourist market. The ‘Cosmos Centre’ was all things astronomy, but actually very engaging.

Holding a meteorite at the Cosmos Centre, Charleville

It was here I discovered that in about 50 year’s time, I shall move to Mars. You see on Mars, I am currently only 22 years old and weigh a mere 20 kilos. KFC and chocolate would be a necessity.....

The most bizarre feature of Charleville was the ‘Rain Making Guns’. 1902 saw Queensland in the grip of drought, so it was decided to trial these guns that had been developed to break up hail over the vineyards of Italy. The vertical guns were placed strategically around Charleville, their barrels pointing up to the sky. Charged with gun powder, it was hoped the explosion would change atmospheric pressure and produce rain. Alas they didn’t work, however the drought soon broke...... so maybe they did......


Rain making guns, Charleville







The cutest feature of Charleville would have to be the Bilby’s. This endangered native rabbit like bandicoot is bred here and part of a release program. They are very cute and have very big ears and a black and tail!







Yes, we did also see real ones......

I shan’t bore you will all the sights and scenes we saw, but Charleville is a great little outback town! I can’t say the same for Cunnamulla though, but it did provide a respite for the night. I don’t think we will ever get used to country towns. The clock strikes Midday on Saturday and all the shops shut until Monday morning. Walking down the main street has a ghost town feel and there is no bread or milk to be had.

On the road again, the inevitable happened. We crossed the border. We were now in NSW, our home state.

Homeward bound....

We are excited to be heading home after nearly two years on the road, but our hearts flutter with a touch of sadness that our gypsy life will soon be no longer. It was Sunday when we crept into Bourke, so of course the town was shut up tight. Although an inviting town, the shutters bordering up the shop windows until opening time, never let us forget the riots that have taken place here.



Main street, Bourke. The shutters are down when the shops are closed.

Remote, yet familiar Bourke has attracted those escaping the big city lights, the most well known being Fred Hollows. Many local aboriginals can now see because of Fred and it was his wish to be buried on the claypans were he camped. Infact, he is buried in the cemetery, a huge slab of granite marking his resting place. Walking to his shrine the soft earth had us sinking into the ground. I had visions of falling down into an ancient grave, but we managed to negotiate our way, allowing the pioneers of the past to rest in peace.


Fred Hollows grave and memorial, Bourke










The Darling River once a maritime thoroughfare, allowed Bourke to prosper. The banks are lined with all manner of memorials, including the Historic Crossley Engine. Although not a machine buff, the hypnotic sound of the engine and the many parts moving in time to the rhythmic beat had me in a trance. The engine was originally used to generate electricity for Sydney (1923 to 1938), but ended its working days as a water pump.

The Crossley Engine, Bourke

Gundabooka National Park, 50 kilometres south of Bourke had us donning our walking gear. Rain has really brought the outback to life. The park was green (even the rocks had moss on them), and the animals were prolific. Although, I don’t think the pussy cats were supposed to be here...... With a strong aboriginal heritage we walked to the rock art site. The artwork here was some of the best examples we have come across.


Rock Art, Gundabooka National Park










Cotton is one of the main industries of this region and with freshly ploughed fields, the emus made the most of it. Never before have we seen emus in such large numbers. An estimate of two hundred of these prehistoric birds lined the roadside, oblivious to the passing traffic.


Hello ladies....

We were headed towards Lightening Ridge, stopping off in Walgett for some lunch. This is a sad town, its doors barricaded against attack. An aboriginal history of forced removal from their land meant life was hard after the ‘invasion’. It was not until the early 1960’s that aboriginals were allowed to enter town. With such a recent volatile arrangement it is no wonder the wounds linger.

Yet, Lightening Ridge is a stark contrast. A friendly bunch of eclectic people have made the ‘Ridge’ home. The actual population is unknown with many living a transient life in camps on their leases. I was last here in 1981. Nothing much has changed except for the expansion of eccentric sights. Amigo had just started building his ‘castle’ back then, but now it resembles the Roman ruins it was based upon, complete with trap doors and dungeons!

Amigo's Castle, Lightning Ridge







Further up the road is the Astronomers Monument. A temple to the world’s astronomers (it also looks like a castle), it was built by a Polish man named Alex. It is all rather bizarre, but given that Alex was wrongfully imprisoned for murder, before a full pardon 8 years later, it begins to make sense.

Astronomers Monument (very kooky inside..)

As you most probably know, opal is the drawcard here. The famous black opal found nowhere else in the world. Many have made their fortune (10 fold), but many have not. Unlucky in opal, one enterprising miner turned his mine into an underground art oasis. Over the past 12 years he has carved and painted every inch to create a visual feast. With a bit of creativity you can make a go of anything out here.......

Once a mine, now an art oasis...

Bordering the town on all sides are mines, mullock heaps and rusting equipment. The entire place looks like a movie set and we were fortunate to get an insight into life out here. A lifelong friend of my brothers having escaped Sydney, invited us out to his camp. Negotiating old shafts we found our way to ‘Bedrock’. There is no town power or water out here, but with a bit of ingenuity (and a generator) life is not all that uncomfortable.

Friends at their mining camp, Lightning Ridge

We learnt the town secrets, but secrets they shall remain.

This side of the Black Stump

In the heart of Matilda country, where Banjo Paterson wrote Waltzing Matilda and performed it for the first time was one of our most liked spots- Winton. In fact, Winton has many claims to fame, not least it is where the first board meeting was held for Qantas in 1921. However, it became world famous for Australia’s largest dinosaur discovered in 1999 and the only recorded evidence of a dinosaur stampede nearby.










Part of Arno's Wall. He has used anything and everything in its construction, Winton

Our visit to the region co-incided with the coldest day ever recorded for this part of Queensland. A chilly 11 degrees. After nearly two years of chasing the sun and experiencing 31 the day prior it was a rude shock. Five mils of rain had dropped from the icy heavens overnight, but we donned all of our winter clothes and made the 110 kilometre trek to Lark Quarry and the world famous dinosaur stampede site.
Now as you will agree 5 mils of rain is not enough to make mention of in most parts of Australia, but ‘out here’ where a thin layer of top soil covers clay it is enough to close roads. The dirt road seemed to show no ill effects and with no ‘road closed’ sign up, off we went. It was infact smooth sailing until the last kilometre. Coming down a small rise, the road was a mud bath. Our tyres and wheel arches soon became caked in the stuff. It was akin to driving on a slippery road with bald tyres. We no longer had control of the vehicle and we could only watch as we slid closer to a pole. Fortunately we started to slide in the other direction just before impact. Limping into the carpark, it was evident that everyone else had lost control at the same spot as us. Collectively we pondered how we were going to make it back out.

Scraping off mud, notice the 'new' colour of our car










Yet, we were here to see evidence of a dinosaur stampede, so huddled against the cold we set of on foot. Now protected by a building, over 3,300 fossilised dinosaur footprints from 95 million years ago are as identifiable as if made yesterday. Prints of Mum’s, Dad’s and the kids can be made out as they ran, fearing for their life, from attack by a hungry Carnosaur (he was big).

Standing next to a Carnosaur print, with many more on show

Ever so slowly we made our way safely home. Home, a Caravan Park in Winton, provided entertainment of an evening. Graham Rodgers, apparently a well known country singer, was not half bad. Having been a writer for ‘Slim’, we actually knew some of the repertoire. He was a real entertainer, and transformed ‘I’d love to have a beer with Duncan’. While his wife asked names of the audience, he quickly thought of a rhyme. Of course I was picked. I shall leave you in suspense as to what rhymes with Leis....... A bush comedian/ poet engaged us next and the many laughs seemed to dull the cold.

Graham Rodgers singing 'I'd love to have a beer with Leisa'

Experiencing the land first hand brings respect. Your days are planned by the weather, which can be devastating or rewarding with even the slightest change. It is a primeval feeling living with the land. Through all the heat, flies, dust and mud we still love it. A total sense of freedom, contentment and wonder prevails. Luckily we have been diagnosed. We are Psycho- Ceramic, i.e. Crack Pots! (insert laughter here). Alas, everyone is ‘mad’ out here, even the water. Still receiving our life giving sustenance from the Great Artesian Basin, water coolers are installed not water heaters. At a temperature of 80 degrees there is no short supply of hot water. Cold on the other hand......

Our three days of winter over (ah back to the balmy days we are accustomed), we set off for Longreach. A friendly little town, the homes looked like workers cottages although lovingly maintained.

The town itself was smaller than expected, but the tourist attractions big. Although Qantas started in Winton, headquarters were soon moved to Longreach (until the Government took over and moved Qantas to Brisbane in the 1930’s). The original Qantas hangar still stands, as does a replica of the first plane and 747.

707 Qantas plane- check out the steps vehicle too

We spent a day exploring the Stockman’s Hall of Fame, a five gallery museum of our pioneering history. The history behind our explorers, stock workers, pastoralists and Aborigines made our trip seem like a walk in the park.

Stockman's Hall of Fame, Longreach

We had been trying to get to Birdsville ever since Mt Isa, and with the recent rains the roads were still closed. Therefore, we continued south, were the nights got cooler, but the days remained warm. The first town encountered past Longreach was Ilfracombe, or as we dubbed it Il’free’combe.

General Store, Ilfracombe

Pioneer displays, heritage homes and sheep grazing memorabilia were all free to peruse. Town pride was evident with the original late 1800’s Post Office, General Store and pub still in use and in good repair.

Boundary Riders lonely hut (and sheep), Ilfracombe

Continuing along the Matilda Highway, we reached Barcaldine and home for the night. Barcaldine is famous for the Tree of Knowledge. This Eucalyptus was the central meeting place for the Shearer’s Strike of 1891 and this ‘disturbance’ led to the formation of the Australian Labour Party. The tree was poisoned a few years ago, so a rather large, well you could say gigantic cube has been placed on the site of the tree. (The cube recreates the size of the tree canopy).

Restored Tree of Knowledge, inside the 'cube', Barcaldine

Free camping in a bush setting a kilometre past town, we enjoyed the serenity. That was until we discovered the ticks. We pulled about 20 off us before the night was over and we were glad to get out of there!

Kangas at our campsite, maybe they brought the ticks!







Ticks plucked, we were headed for the ‘this side of the Black Stump’. Blackall, is where the original Black Stump can be found (well a fossilised stump in its place, the original burnt to the ground).

The Black Stump, Blackall











Surveyors placed their theodolites on the stump for latitude and longitude observations, as it gave more stability than a set of legs. Mapping of Queensland was done from here and at that time in 1887, country west of Blackall was ‘beyond the Black Stump’.

Digging for Dinosaurs

The Barkley Highway cuts across this sunburnt continent, the towns are sparse, the countryside even more so. Yet all roads lead somewhere and at the end of a long days drive we arrived at Mt Isa. The ‘Isa’ is probably the biggest town here in the outback, but the dust and authentic characters are anything but citified. It is seriously dry and dusty out here. Our noses battled this foreign matter and we found ourselves constantly sneezing, as if we had a heavy cold.

Mt Isa

Mining is what makes Mt Isa, and with three men to every one female, it is a ladies paradise. That is if you are into big burly miners. The land around Isa is hilly and atop one such mound a 360 degree view provided a glimpse into the mines and the city as a whole.

Signpost at Mt Isa Lookout

With materials not easily available in the outback, early pioneers had to make do. The ‘tent house’ is a prime example of this ingenuity. Infact, many tent houses were erected in Isa, however only one remains. Picking the front door key up off a table outside the motel next door (see we really aren’t in a city), we let ourselves into this house. Canvas walls, covered by a tin roof and perched upon a wooden floor provided all the comforts of home. Furnished as if still occupied we felt we were intruding into someone’s current home. Pictures of loved ones sat on beside tables, cupboards were full of everyday items and the bookshelf contained some risqué tomes for the era.

Inside the Tent House, Mt Isa

The Tent House

Thankfully Isa has a lake nearby. Lake Moondarra provides an escape from the dust and is rather well maintained with peacocks and chooks roaming its shores and plenty of barra in its waters.

With our fill of big city adventures, we headed east on the Barkley. Thicker scrub soon dominated the countryside, the Selwyn Ranges providing an undulating change of scenery. The land no longer looked so desolate, however the next town sure did.
Mary Kathleen, as the town is known, is a mere 56 kilometres from Mt Isa, but a lifetime away. Established in the 1950’s, the mining town had every conceivable need, including cinema, sports fields, swimming pool, shops etc.

Standing in the Supermarket, Mary Kathleen

However, in late 1983 the contract for uranium oxide was filled and it was decided to close the mine and disband the town. In 1984 the township was auctioned off. All that remains of this ghost town are the building foundations and walkways. The bitumen roads are slowly being reclaimed by nature, but it is eerie to park in the shopping centre carpark, complete with curb and guttering, and walk through what was until relatively recently a bustling town centre.

Parked in the shopping centre carpark, footpath can be seen at Mary Kathleen

Off to find a ‘real’ town for the night, it was back on the Barkley. Some of the longest road trains we have come across shared our path. Ten car lengths long, these beasts still enthuses a sense of awe in us. How do they drive them on these outback roads?

Look how long the road train is!

We settled into Cloncurry, or the ‘Curry’ as it is known and took some time to chill. There is not much to the town, but a browse through the local museum provided some photos of Mary Kathleen in its heyday, and the famous Burke and Wills water bottle. The town was named by Burke after his cousin Lady Elizabeth Cloncurry of County Galway in Ireland. Back in Ireland in the family home, the water bottle was rediscovered by a maid clearing the cellar for the arrival of electricity in the 1930’s.

The Burke & Wills water bottle

A change of direction had us on the Flinders Highway, the red rock ranges giving way to a flat plain land. You have no doubt heard of ‘Big Sky Country’ well out here it is ‘Massive Sky Country’. Far in the distance road trains look like caterpillars crawling across this red land and as the blue sky meets the horizon you can actually see the curvature of the earth.

Flat, barren and dry. There is no other way to describe life out here where you can count the blades of grass on one hand. However, pulling into the township of Julia Creek, it became apparent how cattle graziers make a living out here. We were standing on the centre of the Great Artesian Basin. The basin underlies a fifth of Australia and holds enough water to fill Sydney Harbour 130,000 times. The water travels at a rate of a metre a year from Cape York in the north. Extending to Dubbo in the south, dating has determined that water down there is millions of years old. With such slow progress it begs the question will it run out one day?

The Minmi dinosaur skeleton, Richmond

Having made use of this clean pure water, we headed for our main destination out here- the fossil capital of Australia. The star attractions of Richmond are the Kronosaurus (a marine dinosaur) and Australia’s best preserved dinosaur skeleton- the 100 million year old Minmi.

The mighty Kronosaurus, Richmond

With so many fossil remains out here, the council has designated public fossicking areas. Armed with hammers and chisels we set off to find our own beast. Nearly everyone who fossicks finds something, and we came away with some Belemnites and Bivalves. Maybe not as exciting as a dinosaur bone, but they did feed on these carnivorous marine animals.

Moon rocks, a natural phenomenon in Richmond

Fossicking for dinosaur relics. We did find some!

Sticking on the dinosaur trail we landed in Hughenden. Like people, there are some towns that you just don’t gel with. Although Hughenden also has a fascinating prehistoric past, and a life sized replica of a Muttaburrasaurus, it was not one of our favourite destinations.

A life size Muttaburrasaurus, Hughenden

However, Porcupine Gorge, 60 kilometres north sure was. Looking across the Savannah Plains you would never guess that the creek has carved a very impressive canyon. Sided by hundreds of million year old multi coloured rocks, the vertical drop measures 100 metres into the earth.

Porcupine Gorge

We were left with the impression of a large knife having sliced open this land, its jagged blade revealing the layers from times of inland seas, rainforests and droughts.

Sunny Savannah

Cairns was becoming very familiar to us, almost like home, so it was time to move on. Time to say goodbye to the Wet Tropics. Infact, a stop at The Boulders- massive granite outcrops bordering a cascading stream, was our last foray into the tropical forests of this region.

The Boulders, a river cascades past

For the last time it was up and over the mountain range, as we began our journey across the Savannah Way. The Savannah Way extends from Cairns to Broome over in Western Australia, some 3,500 kilometres. Whilst only driving as far as the Northern Territory border, we still experienced many facets of climate and vegetation.

Ravenshoe provided us with rainforest and rolling mountain pastures, and claims to be Queensland’s highest town. It is a small town, but also the last stop for essential supplies. Just past Ravenshoe is Australia’s widest falls- Millstream Falls. Their true beauty is only seen in the wet season; however it was a refreshing scene before heading on to the edge of the inland Savannah region.

Our camp on the Archer River


After a night camping on the bank of the Archer River, we were keen to ‘take to the waters’ of the Innot Hot Springs a few kilometres down the road. Thermal pools awaited us to soothe away any aches and pains. $7 bought us entry into the pools and we had to stifle the giggles. The Innot Hot Springs are in need of some ‘sprucing’ up. The grounds and pools have certainly had their heyday, but still we did enjoy a relaxing soak.

Innot Hot Springs

Refreshed we once again hit the bitumen. The trees thinned out becoming a thick scrub with the odd bottle tree to break up the horizon. The scenery stretched on for miles without change, so a detour to Undara and the world’s longest lava tubes was in order.

A mere 190,000 years ago (very recent in geological terms), Mother Nature set about creating this rare volcanic phenomena. A single volcano erupted and caused the lava to flow over 160 kilometres. As the air cooled the surface, the lava continued to flow beneath the surface in a ‘tube’. Once the eruption stopped the lava flowed out of the tubes, leaving the hollow tunnels hidden underneath.

Inside the Undara Lava Tube

In parts the roof has collapsed, creating a cool oasis for a semi rainforest to grow- such a contrast to the stark savannah landscape. We walked through 3 of the lava tubes, imagining how at a temperature of 1200 degrees everything in its path would have been destroyed.

Old linesman's hut, discovered on walk at Undara

The campsite at Undara was one of the best bush sites we have stayed at. Nothing beats the smell of a campfire while gazing at the stars, and I didn’t mind the cute Bettongs that hopped over to us each night in hope of a feed.

But after a couple of days, we bid farewell to the Bettongs. We were heading further inland, the road becoming a mere thin strip of bitumen down the centre. To pass an oncoming car we both had to pull off the bitumen strip and travel on the gravel verge. With the threat of weeds invading this remote land, we drove through the ‘washdown’ at Mt Surprise. Clean at last. Well for the few seconds before the dust settled on us again.

Driving through the washdown, Mt Surprise

The towns are sparse, but with not much else to see we made use of all the ‘attractions’. Mining was once big out here, the plentiful gold and minerals now all but gone. Rusted relics of this boom time dot the land. Some 20 kilometres past Georgetown was a chimney, a lone relic from the gold crushing plant built by Cornish miners. The dusty land gives no clues to its former wealth however the nearby dam was rich in bird life, another oasis in this dry land.

Relics of a Gold Rush past, near Georgetown

Croydon. Located in the heart of the Gulf Savannah country and steeped in history. Once the fourth largest town in Queensland the population has dwindled to 250, however the history is alive and well preserved. There are still untapped gold reserves here, located underneath the historic buildings of the court house, jail and police station. During the gold rush the roads were lit by gas lamps, and these still line the sandstone kerbed streets.

Historic precinct, Croydon. Note gas lamps.

With a large population of Chinese settlers (as most goldfields had), archaeologists have discovered the remains of Chinatown from the late 1800’s. Stories of individuals line the walk around the site and remains of a Joss House.

Remains of the Joss House, Chinatown, Croydon

Racist laws are the reason that Australia’s pioneering history does not have more of a Chinese influence. They were restricted and controlled but were better than the Europeans at growing market gardens in these harsh, dry conditions. Funny how racism was ‘forgotten’ when they could provide a valuable resource.

Australia once had the majority of its population living in country areas, the cities home to a far less number. How times have changed. These once bustling towns, with numerous pubs and dwellings have become a thing of the past.

If only the market gardeners still thrived out here! We were becoming low on supplies and the next town of Normanton sold wilted vegetables at exorbitant prices. There are no real ‘supermarkets’ out here, and food deliveries are weekly, so we had to make do with what we had. Again Normanton was once a bustling town (during the Croydon gold rush days, it was the port), and the buildings stand testament to the wealth once here. There is also a monument to the biggest saltwater crocodile ever shot. The life size 8.6 metre replica of ‘Krys’ has been authenticated by the Guinness Book of Records, but surely there are not crocs this big out here?


Krys the crocodile

Normanton Railway Station is home to the ‘Gulflander’. Every Wednesday at 8.30am this historic train travels on the original railway to Croydon. Built in 1889 the station is still in mint condition. There were visions that the Gulf would be the gateway to the Asian markets and this railway could be linked to others in Australia. Alas, this was not to be and the train has not made a profit since the 1920’s.

Normanton Railway Station

Just 79 kilometres from Normanton is Karumba, on the Gulf of Carpentaria. There is nothing more to Karumba than being a remote fishing village. But travellers flock here to watch the sunset melt into the Arafura Sea and fish. The town has only a few shops, but 3 Caravan Parks, and as we were to discover they were all full to the brim. Grey Nomads escaping the chilly winters ‘down south’ come to this 30 degree day paradise for months at a time. We were squeezed onto patch of grass for a night and witnessed the community that forms each year. Talk of fish was all that could be heard, but signs around the park directed you to who could cut your hair, provide a massage, teach art and crafts, or join a fitness class, amongst other necessities. Everyone seemed to provide a service, ensuring the comforts of home were not missed in this no frills town.

Karumba, trailers and boats everywhere










Not being fisherpeople, we only stayed one night, but did manage to purchase some King Salmon at a ‘cheap’ price. Some of the best fish we have tasted. For us it was a journey west on the Matilda Highway. I say highway, but this stretch of road is dirt and flat. The yellow Spinifex of the Savannah out here is contrasted by red rocks and a brilliant blue sky. Water appears in patches creating wetlands that are a haven to all manner of birds, including some very tall brolgas. There was plenty of road kill out here, ensuring the ever present hawks and wedge tailed eagles circled above us.

Brolgas on the Savannah Way

Isolated and dusty, the stretch of road towards the Northern Territory border seemed endless. This is the country that finally claimed Burke and Wills in 1861, and it is easy to see why.
Yipee, a tree! The desolate Savannah country

However, we finally made it to Burketown. European settlers were no match for this outback place and died in droves, but for us it had a Caravan Park, Service Station and pub. It took us 2 minutes to walk the town, so we decided to have a beer at the 130 year old pub and meet some of the locals.

The Burketown Hotel

As we walked inside the scene before us was confronting. About 50 aboriginal men were enjoying a beer, the sounds of their native tongue foreign to our ears. There were no white people in sight. They seemed friendly enough, so we bought a cool ale and sat down. It wasn’t long before we were approached and the gathering explained. We had arrived in Burketown on the day the Federal Court had sat in town to hand back the land to the local Doomadgee peoples.

We made new friends and listened to stories of being taken away from their mother, only to finally come back. But back to what. No land, no culture and introduced to the white man drink. It is a story replicated among many aboriginal communities that we have come across. They blame the white man for introducing alcohol, which brought about the destruction of all that they knew and the proud peoples they once were. Alcohol is a drug and not one easily given up.

However, they were proud to have their land returned. We were welcomed, but once again headed west to Queensland’s most scenic national park- Lawn Hill. Situated in remote North West Queensland, the park is made up of lush gorge country, rich red sandstone ranges and world heritage fossils. The spring water that feeds the gorge, and flows all year round, gives life to an otherwise parched landscape. Rather than walk the gorge we opted to canoe the 6 kilometres.

Canoeing into the Gorge, Lawn Hill

As we paddled into its heart, we were engulfed by the magnitude of the gorge walls towering above us. Freshwater crocodiles live in the emerald waters, but we did not expect to see any. However, a loud snap, snap had us both looking into the Pandanus lining the bank. There sat a large ‘freshie’ devouring a catch. There is not much protection in a small canoe, but this species of croc is more scared of us than we are of them. However, we were soon to encounter another- a rather large male, who hissed at us in anger. We managed to paddle fast away from that one. Still it did not deter us from a swim later, it is hot up here!

He started to get a little angry with us....

Riversleigh, 50 kilometres from Lawn Hill, but still part of the national park is home to 25 million year old fossils. Many species of birds and animals have been uncovered here and fossicking still continues. Once underwater, the limestone of this area has kept these relics preserved. We only had access to a small part of this World Heritage Area, but the ‘Fossil Trail’ took us past skeletons of crocodiles, turtles and ‘Big Bird’, undisturbed since the Oligocene period.

Leg fossil of 'Big Bird'

With supplies running low, we made the very long and very dusty drive to Mt Isa, with only Brahman Cross cattle providing entertainment to look at.
They really are fine specimens....