Saturday, July 24, 2010

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.