The big smoke

It’s about 400 km from Dubbo to where we live, Narrabeen, thereof around 100 km through Sydney’s metropolitan area — a time-consuming drive. As we don’t want to arrive at home late in the day, we set up camp once more. This time in Glenbrook in the Blue Mountains, right on Sydney’s doorsteps, a mere 2-hours from home.

Glenbrook sits on approximately 150 m altitude, and here the Blue Mountains are quite different from what you’d usually associate with this national park: Instead of deep canyons, the Glenbrook area features quintessential Australian bush with old eucalypt forests spread across sandstone ridges and deep river gorges. The Nepean River, which together with its associated mouth, the Hawkesbury River, virtually encircles the Sydney region, is in walking distance.

The campground in the Blue Mountains National Park offers a beautiful natural setting. What a contrast to Dubbo’s commercial caravan park in the middle of the city, fenced off with barbed wire! Niklas and grand-dad Siegfried quickly collect some firewood, and soon we have dinner at a cosy fire, the last one for a long time. Not sure if I will miss pasta and tomato sauce though … :-)

That night it starts raining. But we are lucky enough that the drizzle stops early in the morning so we can pack up our tent in dry conditions. We realise that for the last 12 weeks the weather gods have been smiling on us as we had hardly any rain: The first night, the last one, a spectacular thunderstorm at the Devils Marbles, and some drizzle in the Paluma Ranges National Park — that was it!

So what remains after exactly 14,210 km? Some worn out garments, more than enough photos to bore the pants off our friends, lots of fond memories. But also the feeling that we have now got a very good insight into Australia. Most importantly, however, the realisation that we are fortunate to live in a lovely spot. Even after having seen so many diverse regions of this continent, we still believe that our suburb in Sydney’s east is one of the best places to live. Yes, admittedly a bit on the coolish side in winter. But that’s easier to cope with than the steaming hot summers in tropical Queensland. The occasional shark alarm or some blue bottle jellyfish. Nothing compared to crocs or deadly box jellyfish north of Rockhampton. Sometimes busy and crowded roads and shops. But would you want to swap this for the remoteness of central Australia where kids can’t walk to school?

You'd catch 'em surfin' at Del Mar
Ventura County line
Santa Cruz and Trestle
Australia's Narrabeen
All over Manhattan
And down Doheny Way

Everybody's gone surfin'
Surfin' U.S.A.

There is a reason why Narrabeen is mentioned in this 1963 Beach Boys song. (Unfortunately, I don't have a surfboard ...)

If you don't have a surfboard ...

Narrabeen rock pool

Collaroy rock pool

Collaroy beach

Dee Why beach

In essence, though our journey could have gone on and on and on, we are also happy to be back at home. After all, we can now catch up with all those friends whom for 3 months we only stayed in touch with via this little blog.

[Glenbrook, Euroka campground, 25.-26. September]

— T H E   E N D —

Happy kids

Dubbo (population 42,000) serves a catchment of around 130,000 people, more than half the population of the entire Northern Territory. There is no denial: We are on the doorsteps of Sydney, which is only 400 km away. Long before arriving in Dubbo, the scenery has changed completely: The arid plains of the outback have been replaced by grasslands, the traffic has increased, the landscape is criss-crossed by lots of roads, the majority of them sealed and much wider than the highways that we travelled along in the Red Center.

There is one particular reason for our visit to Dubbo: It’s our thank-you present for Niklas and Jonas. Dubbo features the open-range Taronga Western Plains Zoo, which is home to various species of endangered animals, including some rhinoceroses. The zoo runs some successful breeding programs, and many of the animals in Sydney’s Taronga Zoo, which our boys love to visit, were born here.

Niklas and Jonas have been very patient trip companions. In a bit less than 12 weeks we have covered a distance of more than 14,000 km. Some of the stages demanded a great deal from two little boys who had just turned 7 one day before we left Sydney. Nonetheless, not a single “are we there yet?”.

Jonas, an avid reader, read several volumes of Enid Blyton’s “Mystery” series, a few German “Kommissar Kugelblitz” books, and finally the complete 7-volume “Harry Potter” series (volume 5 contains 800 pages …). When we eventually ran out of books towards the end of our journey, he simply read volumes 1-3 again.

Niklas, though his reading skills are nothing short of his brother’s, spent more time gazing through the window at the moving landscape outside.

Finally, both were busy working on their school assignments (though some gentle pressure had to be applied by Claudia and me …)

"Dad, stop taking photos of me!"

We rent some bicycles and spend 2 interesting days zig-zagging through the vast expanses of the zoo, rounded off with ice cream and souvenirs from the zoo shop. The kids are happy, and so are we.

Fancy seeing you here!

[Dubbo, 22.-25. September]

Home stretch

Turning eastward another stage of our journey begins: The return trip to Sydney. Now where we have only got a bit more than one week left, this last leg of the journey feels like the home stretch. We still have got 1,500 km to cover, but there are only a few stops on our list, the most important one being Dubbo where we want to visit the zoo.

But first we stop in Broken Hill, quintessentially an outback town. We have to admit that we aren’t well-prepared. There are certainly quite a few things to do in Broken Hill. For instance visiting the ghost town of Silverton where the movie Mad Max II was shot. Or strolling along one of the art trails. For us, however, Broken Hill looks like yet another mining town. And after inhaling — and enjoying — the fresh breeze of spring in South Australia, the outback has lost its appeal. Here in New South Wales it looks less intriguing than in Central Australia anyway: Most of the time the Indian-Pacific railway line runs parallel to the road, and the plains show a wisp of colours: Springtime has found its way into this harsh environment as well. After what we had experienced in Central Australia, it feels like “Outback lite”.

As mentioned above, I am totally unfair in my assessment. We are simply not well-prepared for a real Broken Hill experience, but unfortunately we can’t change this now. And it doesn’t really help that the campgrounds don’t cut it: The first one that we explore is a waste dump, and on the second one we get the very last spot with campsite neighbours only a metre away. Compared to the natural settings of most campgrounds on our trip this feels suffocating.

So we hastily leave the town after one night and head further east where after a day in the car we eventually arrive in Cobar. Here we are lucky enough to find a campsite on the banks of a small lake and bird sanctuary. We have a campfire and, most likely for the last time, enjoy the clear night sky with millions of twinkling stars.

[Broken Hill, 20.-21. September]
[Cobar, 21.-22. September]

Change of plans

Our next stop was supposed to be the Clare Valley north of Adelaide. But kids aren’t that interested in wine tastings. Claudia, who compared to me is a more “outdoorsy” person, finds a winery near Mount Remarkable National Park that offers best of all worlds: camping on their grounds; hiking in the national park; wine tasting in the evening. Plus the added benefit of a shorter drive.

At closer inspection it unfortunately turns out that this winery doesn’t cut it. But we  nonetheless decide to stay in the region, the Southern Flinders Ranges, in Melrose, a tiny village (population 200) that prides itself of being the oldest settlement in the area. Indeed it is a beautiful spot with two historic pubs, a nice café in an old bank building, and all the essential stores that cater for your everyday needs. The area seems to be a mountain biking Mecca, and a high-calibre bike shop compliments the offering.

Niklas and Jonas make new friends on the campsite’s playground and get invited over to play dates. You have to keep the kids happy! :-)

We all start hiking up Mount Remarkable. Half way up its (rather gentle) slope, after a lunch break with a view over the grassy plains that are dotted with sheep the family returns to the campsite.

Geometry

Only I continue the climb. At the summit, I get rewarded with views of the Southern Ocean and Eyre Peninsula in the far distance.

[Melrose, 18.-20. September]

Colours

We stay for one night in Port Augusta on the Southern Ocean. It feels good to be back by the sea. Yet, the main reason for our visit is to stock up on food and then head north again, more precisely: north-east, towards the Flinders Ranges.

Shortly after we have left Port Augusta the landscape changes dramatically, and what a welcome change it is! The hills are covered in lush green. The creeks carry water. We haven’t seen this for weeks, not since we left the Atherton Tablelands. For 5 weeks and 7,000 km all rivers and creeks that we have crossed were bone-dry. The only exceptions, West, South, and East Alligator River in Kakadu National Park, are tidal waters, estuaries, fed by the sea. This is an arid country.

A new feature begins to dominate the scenery: Red River Gums, beautiful, majestic trees that tower over the landscape. And there are emus, lots of emus. This seems to be a wonderful region.

However, dozens of farm ruins dot the plains and tell a different story about droughts, bush fires, and floods. About promise, disappointment, and eventually failure. The climate has proven to be totally unreliable. Don’t make a mistake: Even now there are way more dry creeks than ones that carry a bit of water.

But there is no denial: It’s springtime, and we are eager to soak in the green, yellow, and purple hues of the blooming flowers and bushes. We are so tired of grey spinifex grass!

The Flinders Ranges are a bushwalker’s paradise. We set up our tent at a stunning campsite at Wilpena Pound, and emus and kangaroos that roam the (dry) river bed are regular visitors. The Pound is a geological feature, a wall of mountains around a natural amphitheatre of around 17 km in diameter. We climb up two of these mountains, Mount Ohlssen-Bagge, where we take the whole family (including kids and grandparents), and St. Mary’s Peak that only Claudia and I conquer. Both are hard, steep climbs over loose gravel and rocky outcrops, but the views are rewarding. In the distance, the gleaming expanses of Lake Torrens dominate the scenery. No, it's not water reflecting the sunlight. Lake Torrens is usually a dry salt flat. It has only been filled with water once in the past 150 years. Have I told you that this is an arid continent?

Hard to believe, but hundreds of millions of years ago a huge inland sea covered this ancient landscape, formed layers of sediments that hardened under the pressure. The sea receded, the layers tilted upright and started eroding. Narrow gorges in these folds provide an insight into our Earth’s early history. We drive through them — the cobblestone-sized gravel is brutal on our car — and admire the different colours all representing a different stage of this geological timeline.

We had to make a detour to get to the Flinders Ranges, and for a while we had toyed with the idea to remove them from our itinerary. We are glad that we didn’t!

[Port Augusta, 12.-13. September]
[Wilpena Pound, 13.-18. September]

Lunatics

If you always wanted to travel to the moon, but couldn’t afford the return ticket, a visit to Coober Pedy is a worthwhile alternative.

Exactly 100 years ago a lucky fellow discovered opals in the region. Lucky not only because of this find, but also because he had the chance to share the news with others: A heavy thunderstorm came to his rescue just when he was about to die of thirst.

Anyway, opals were the only reason why a town was founded in this harsh, bone-dry area, and they are still the only reason why anyone in his right senses* would want to live here. The name is the English version of the Aborigine word Kopa Pity, “white man in a hole”. This aptly describes the scenery that awaits you when you approach the town: The whole desert is covered in dugouts and piles of sand and gravel. No wonder the post-apocalyptic movie Mad Max III was filmed here. Apparently there are more than 250,000 mine shafts in the area, and big signs warn tourists about this imminent danger.

We stay for 2 nights, visit an old opal mine and another Coober Pedy oddity: An underground home. Around half of the town’s population lives in dugouts to shelter from the extreme climate with more than 50° in summer and freezing nighttime temperatures in winter. Even motels, backpacker hostels, churches were built underground! Sometimes the building costs are covered by the opals that are found during home construction.

A few kilometres outside of Coober Pedy there is another weird sight: The dog fence. Around 1880, some wealthy farmers joined forces and built a 5,300 km fence to protect their sheep from dingoes. This fence, the longest in the world, is still maintained and in use. It certainly helps to keep the majority of dingoes out of South Australia’s grazing regions. But nobody really seems to bother about the ecological side-effects of this barrier on other animals.

Another attraction of the area is The Breakaways, named because this hill range is separated from the Stuart Ranges that dominate the rest of the landscape’s horizon. The Breakaways give you an idea of what can still be discovered in this vast continent. It’s mainly an attraction due to its proximity to the highway — only 25 km on dirt roads —, not necessarily because of its uniqueness. Colourful rock formations like these must be abundant if you travel further off the beaten track. Anyway, we enjoy the scenery, especially around sunset. Not only because of the spectacular colour display, but also because the gazillions of terrorising flies finally go to sleep …

*Footnote: Though most of them must be a bit eccentric, the folk in Coober Pedy turn out to be a friendly and interesting bunch of people.

[Coober Pedy, 10.-12. September]

The track

From Kings Canyon, we head south along Luritja Road and the Lasseter Highway until we eventually reach the intersection with the Stuart Highway at Erldunda. From here, everything is unchartered territory for us. Back in 2005 when Claudia and I travelled through central Australia, we covered the region between Uluru and Darwin; but we didn’t make it into the vast desert expanses of South Australia.

It’s getting a bit dull. The road is lined by prickly, dry, brown Spinifex Grass. There aren’t many features in the landscape. Traffic is insignificant; oncoming drivers raise their hand for a friendly hello. A section of the highway is marked as an emergency landing tarmac for the Royal Flying Doctor Service. Bear in mind, this is the major artery through the centre of this continent. It’s beyond belief.

Back in Sydney our plan was to sleep at some featureless roadside rest area. But there is so little to do that we decide to head on and try to cover as much distance as possible. So we eventually reach Marla, South Australia, population 150, just in time before dusk when it gets busy on the highway where kangaroos, camels, cattle take over.

The Marla road house is actually a friendly spot, and we enjoy a few beers and, as a special treat and because it is so late, a meal that wasn’t prepared on the camp stove. The night sky is spectacular, and I can take long exposure photos of road trains in front of the service station. No Photoshop, trust me!

Can you spot the Southern Cross?

Marla is the starting point for one of Australia’s most iconic Outback tracks, the Oodnadatta Track, a 615 km dirt road that connects Marla and Marree as an adventurous alternative to the Stuart Highway. Our team (and vehicle) set-up doesn’t allow us to drive along this route. Yet we take the opportunity to venture off the main road for a few kilometres and see what our inner-city car is capable of. This photo, however, shows our campsite neighbours on their way to Oodnadatta. They are certainly better prepared:

It’s almost time to say good-bye to the Outback. I must admit that I like it. Yes, it’s impossible to get a tent peg into the rock-solid ground. Yes, the flies are a nuisance. But you really learn to appreciate the little things in life that we take for granted: Hot showers, cold beers, the sight of a flowering bush. The geology, the whole natural setting is fascinating. Though the landscape looks so harsh, it’s an important eco-system, and we see emus, eagles, and lots of reptiles along (and sometimes on) the road.

[Marla, 9.-10. September]