Broken Hill’s Australia Day festivities began at 2pm, at the local pool. Dave and I, with the entire population of the city, settled in for an afternoon of swimming, thong tossing and sausage sizzles.
Water slide- Australia Day, Broken Hill
The Mayor announced that the huge water slide would open at 4pm. We couldn’t wait to throw our bodies down the tube which snaked its way into the pool. Alas, we forget, we are in NSW. The Nanny State. The state where OH&S has gone mad (you should see what you can legally do in the NT and WA!). It was all so strictly controlled we decided to give it as miss. Anyway, after such an exhausting day (hee hee), we needed a big rest, luckily we stopped at the big chair to do so....
Big Chair at lookout, Broken Hill
And so our sojourn in Broken Hill came to an end. Heading towards the geographic centre of NSW, the scrub became thicker, the trees a little taller. The red dirt was still ever present, as well as the heat. What was alarming though was the plethora of wild goats. The roadside was littered with herds of the beasts. Surely they are causing untold damage to this fragile land?
With many miles to go before we hit ‘home’, Cobar was to be our pit stop for the night. Memories of Cobar conjure up a drought stricken land.
Mine at Cobar- not as big as Kalgoorlie!
It has been over 25 years since either of us has set foot out here, and what we can’t get over is how green it all is. No sign of drought, just fertile lands and a green verge paving our way. We had left the outback and her silence. In these ‘green lands’ the shrill of the cicada rings in your ears from dawn until dusk.
A few hundred more kilometres down the road and we reached Dubbo, in the Bogan Shire. Welcome to the Bogan Shire the sign proclaimed. I’m sure every tourist has a giggle as they pass. A three hour walk of the town took us down the main street, with its buildings from a bygone era and numerous discount stores (how do they all survive?). The Cultural Centre was a great find, with a display of Dubbo’s history told through an exhibition of stories and memorabilia.
Aboriginal grinding grooves
The history continued 9 kilometres out of town, where ancient aboriginal grinding grooves are found etched into rocks by the bank of the Macquarie River.
Our stay was completed with a visit to the Shoyoen Japanese Gardens before journeying onto Wellington.
Welcome to Wellington - What tha?
Wellington was the site of many a family holiday in our younger (much younger) years. ‘Back in our day’ Wellington was very dry, the paddocks varying shades of brown, the result of a long harsh drought. However, situated in a valley she has reaped the benefits of life giving water seeping down the mountains. We both could not believe our eyes, having never seen her so green and vibrant. My recollections are of mouse plagues and picking out the sharp cats eye burrs from the bottom of my thongs, so it was good to see a place in better condition than our memories served us. The town streetscape is still charming, although many of the traditional shops are now replaced by KFC, McDonalds and the ever present bargain shops.
Of course, we stayed where we did all those years ago, at The Caves. I learnt Nancy, who used to check us into the park, died only two weeks ago. The Donovan’s have also left for greener pastures. Located further down the road, by the river, they ran a horse riding school and I used to help take out trail rides during the school holidays. The characters may have left, but the Caravan Park has not changed at all. The cabins are still the same ones that Mum and I struggled to ride past on our tandem bike.
Inside the Phosphate Mine
No visit to The Caves is complete without a trip underground. We opted for the Phosphate Mine, with its preserved relics of a prehistoric time.
Thylacoleo (like a Giant Wombat thing) skeleton, Wellington Caves
Bones of many mega-marsupials have been found here, hidden underground for millions of years.
We were now so close to ‘home’, but managed to squeeze in one more night away at Orange. The quality of wine from Orange has improved over the years and is now recognised as ‘some really good stuff’. We certainly enjoyed the wines we sampled and the friendly cellar door staff. Mt Canobolas rises high above the town, so high infact it is the highest point from here to the West Coast of Australia.
View from Mt Canobolas
As we soaked up the view below, we contemplated how beautiful, yet diverse this land is.
With only 200 kilometres to go, the home stretch was on, a mixture of excitement and pleasure as we drove into those familiar towns. Bathurst, home of Mt Panorama and the ‘race’. Anyone can drive around the famous track, so off we went. The speed limit is only 60. That was OK- going up the hill that is all we could manage with our ‘house’ attached. I guess the Supercars are a little more tuned for the track, but I wouldn’t have wanted to increase the speed much more. Still Conrad Straight approached and with a few sound effects, we won the race.
Looking back to Mount Panorama while going down Conrod Straight
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