Last leg back to Adelaide
We bid an emotional farewell to Uluru. I felt that we had only scratched the surface of the secrets and culture connected to that special place. But it’s mystery is intrinsic to its allure and so it will remain.
We stopped at Curtin Springs Wayside Inn for a picnic lunch and to peruse their home-made native grass paper. We said a brief hello to the emus at Erldunda Roadhouse where the Lasseter and Stuart Highways meet. It also happens to be the closest one can get to the geographical centre of Australia without leaving the main road.
We pushed on to the SA/NT border then on to overnight at Agnes Creek Rest Area, 70 odd kilometres inside South Australia. Home was drawing ever nearer and I could feel its pull. Perhaps if we didn’t have a second year of travel up our sleeves our impending arrival back in Adelaide would have evoked more gravity than eagerness. I was looking forward to so many things about getting back to Adelaide, not least seeing family and friends.
A huge red moon rose on the horizon as I cooked up all our contraband vegetables, deemed a biosecurity risk when brought across the border into South Australia. We had vegetable curry enough to last us all the way back to Adelaide. Agnes Creek Rest Area was a magic spot to wake up to. Pied butcher birds had been singing a gentle melodic call all through the night, which was then joined by more lively magpies, noisy miners and galahs as the sun rose. I was tempted to stay put for another night but we had Coober Pedy already in our sights.
We deliberated taking a detour to the Painted Desert but with my itchy feet to be home we opted to drive through the Breakaways instead. It was an astonishing, otherworldly landscape, devoid of trees and ruled by bearded dragons.
Our first glimpse of mining activity was exciting. The piles of earth conjured images of lots of little people sitting at the bottom of their individual holes throwing shovel loads of dirt out over their shoulders like moles. In the centre of Coober Pedy, we packed in like sardines at the free camp attached to the Old Timer’s Mine and Museum. A fine layer of talc-like dust settled on and in everything we owned within a few hours of our arrival.
We had a full day exploring the unique and enigmatic little mining town. I was surprised to find underground or “dugout” living was indeed standard practice in Coober Pedy. I’d always thought it was a tourist gimmick. We walked over to Umoona Opal Mine and Museum for the 10am tour with 87 year old local Rudi, a living artefact and treasure of the town. Driving out to the digging fields after the tour we realised we still had a lot of unanswered questions about this bizarre place. Fields of holes and mullock heaps of varying sizes surrounded the town. There were no fences, no signage and no apparent order to the network of warrens. How do people know where their claim starts and ends? How do they know the ground won’t collapse beneath them for the myriad network of digging?
We tried our hand at “noodling” (sifting through mine tailings for any missed fragment of coloured stone). It was dusty, uncomfortable and unsuccessful but strangely addictive. Windswept and filthy, we popped into the underground Catacomb and St Peter and St Paul Catholic churches before dining out at John’s Pizza Bar for dinner. On our way out of town the following day we stopped at the old cemetery, which cast a chink of light onto the colourful characters, many from far flung shores, that had graced this intriguing desert town.
A day of driving through windy barren landscapes ended at Lake Hart Rest Area, which was exposed and close to the road but had absolutely stunning views across the salt lake. None of my photos will do it justice but it has to be one of my favourite side of the road stops. Sloping down from our perched campsite were red dunes, held together by swaying green grass, yellow acacias and scattered white everlastings. The lake, still bearing water from recent rains, was constantly changing colour; blue, white, grey, silver and at times pink. The cloud strewn sky was a soft blue and as the sun set, it glowed orange and yellow over the darker low-lying hills that rimmed the lake. We walked down the hill and crossed under the railway line that had accompanied us most of the journey from Coober Pedy. Still hoping to spot a thorny devil I was instead impressed by the two little blue and yellow painted dragons that I found.
I continued to be awed by the beauty of what was largely a treeless landscape all the way down to Pimba and Woomera. We saw small pockets of Sturt desert pea that were so thick with flowers they looked like blood-soaks in the sand. Woomera was a good place to stretch the legs with an excellent free museum shedding light on its once secret military history. Though arguably, it was a little early to be introducing the unpleasant topic of war and weapons to four year old Hugh.
We hit rain as we arrived into Port Augusta so we didn’t do any exploring in the city itself, but we were able to have a wander through the Australian Arid Lands Botanic Gardens which was fabulous. It was a great time to visit with so much in bloom.
Our last night on the road we had the beautiful Doughboy Reserve, just out of Melrose all to ourselves. Being cold and with wet weather on the way we didn’t stay long to enjoy it but it was lovely to be under huge river red gums amongst green farmland and flanked by radiant yellow canola.
It was a rainy and wind swept final drive back into Adelaide with a brief stop in Clare to sample wine at Mr Mick’s and to fill up on bakery food at Sevenhill. Our 11 month loop through the western half of Australia had finally come to a close. What a treat it was to roll back into Adelaide and to watch the kids fling their arms around their two excited grandparents. I was more than ready for a hot shower and a warm bed and looking forward to a brief hiatus in our travels; time to recharge the batteries, reunite with family and friends and get planning for our eastern chapter.
