Heading East

Daly Waters Country and Western and Rock 'n Roll singers

View from our table at Camooweal Billabong

About 10% of the Corellas that came to visit late afternoon

Whistling Kite over our heads

Campsite at Barkly Station - excellent - note red dust!

Mount Isa Muck heap

Brolga fun

Pacific Heron waiting patiently for fish

Good old fashioned green budgies - must have been smuggled in

Lazy Pelicans that rarely moved over our 2 days

Egret stalking fish

Tom the Drover tells it like it was

Pacific heron startled by photographer

The view you see in the rear view mirror of Mt Isa.  Some claim it is the best view in town.

Sunset at Camooweal Billabong

Brolga feeding time

Mount Isa housing - close to work!

Pelicans herding together for fish

And then they close the trap

I want some of what he has been on, says Ray

Our mascot Wally - carved in Tassie by an 85 year old

Alone but not lonely in our red dust campsite on a World War II airstrip

Backtracking from our current position in Mt Isa, I note that we finished the last blog at Daly Waters, after a fun evening of drinking, eating and dancing in good company.

From there we headed along the Barkly Highway, again along kilometre after kilometre of arrow-straight roads.  Here there are no suggested speeds (other than the 130 in the NT), but they do warn of Crests and occasional Bends as if they are the devil himself!  The obvious stopping point was the Barkly Homestead, where we spent 2 nights in a beautifully shady campsite (albeit a bit dusty), but with excellent facilities, pool, pub and great coffee!  Getting sufficient exercise "on the road" is difficult, especially when there are no mountains in view, so a pool is a welcome sight, and we've been lucky in this regard just recently.

The lovely couple we met and dined with at Barkly told us of their favourite camping spot at Camooweal Billabong, a short 261 km from the Homestead; a good day's drive when you're not in a hurry.  We found the entrance to the site and managed to nab a prime spot right in front of the billabong, with was teeming with bird life.  We weren't the only ones with the Billabong in mind, and the first night there were dozens of caravans and motorhomes strung out along the waterway.  However, as with all sites, people come and go and by the 3rd night, the campsite was all but deserted - or was that our fault???  On day 2, we walked up into "town" and a kilometre or so west of town to the Drover's Camp.  There we were fortunate to be given a guided tour by Tom, an ex- (or is that retired) Drover, and spent a profitable hour and a half or more learning all there was to know about old-time droving.  As I'd just been reading Hell West and Crooked by Tom Cole, I managed to nod and sound knowledgeable in all the right places.  Tom gave us a detailed lecture in front of a large map of Australia with all the old stock routes and stations detailed, before taking us into the well-equipped shed and yarning about the old days.  A really worthwhile visit we both felt.

Camooweal, meaning Place of Big Winds, lived up to its name on our first day there, with a sudden and fierce dust storm which rushed through and over the billabong, coming and going within 1 minute, but that minute managing to deposit enough red dust both inside the motorhome and out, to plant next season's spuds!  We weren't fast enough getting the windows closed and by the time we had, peace reigned once more!

We sampled the delights of the Pub for a good steak lunch - really the only place in town to eat, although the Post Office sells fruit, veges and some general groceries.  City people complain when they go into the local Post Office and see the myriad junk that now takes over from stamps and service, but it's quaint being able to buy fruit and veges with your stamps!!!

We left Camooweal reluctantly for Mt Isa, stopping for an overnighter at an old WWII airstrip, just 50 km west of Mt Isa.  There was no shortage of room there, and we drove off into the bush, camping in deep red dust, but enjoying the solitude of not being able to see another soul; the stars that night were pretty spectacular too, despite Mt Isa being so close.  The down side to that campground was another film of red dust which added to the airstrip's coating, necessitating a good old clean up and shake out at Mt Isa yesterday.

Our campground at Mt Isa has lovely green grassy sites, and a pool large enough for a decent swim.  We drove up to the Lookout on the first day, and to the Underground Hospital, before parking the motorhome at the Discovery Holiday Park a short drive, or a 40 minute walk from the "Centre" of Mt Isa.

It's always worth poking around places like this, to discover some of the quirky history, such as the Underground Hospital.  It was feared that Mt Isa would be a target of the Japanese after the bombing of Darwin in 1942, so the Hospital Board decided that an underground hospital was needed to handle casualties in the event of attack.  The site was a hill beside the existing hospital, and was built by volunteers from Mt Isa Mines, and equipped with surgical, medical and maternity facilities and even an outpatients depart and operating theatres.  Fortunately it never had to be used, though for the rest of the war and for some years after, it provided a place for a cool and quiet sleep for nurses on night shift.  It fell into disuse and early in the 1950s the entrances were covered with earth.  The facilities was rediscovered in 1977 and although some parts were white ant eaten, and partially collapsed, it was repaired and is now open to the public, alongside the old hospital and an example of a tent house from the 1930s.  The restored 1937 tent house is set up alongside the old hospital and features canvas walls and roof, with a separate tin roof over all, allowing movement of air to cool the house.  It is also filled with "historical" furniture and artefacts most of which were a feature of my own childhood home!!!

Yesterday we took a tour of the Hard Times Mine, a purpose built mine, complete with fuming, roaring and rattling machinery.   Along with another 20 hardy souls we were kitted out in orange paper jumpsuits, steel capped boots and helmets with head lamps, descending in an Alimak Cage to a series of tunnels complete with mining gear from various eras.  Our guide, Tony, an ex-miner and a real people person, brought the mine to life for us with tales both good and bad of mining life and characters.  We even had coffee in the crib room while blasting took place further down the mine - or at least the boom and crash sounds of blasting sounded, reminding us all of why none of us had ever become miners!  A dark and dangerous job indeed.  However, a worth while visit and a couple of hours well spent.  Tony even gave us a lift back to the caravan park afterwards - a 5 minute drive for him, but a 30 minute trudge uphill in the afternoon sun for us - and we were very grateful indeed.

Returning from our late afternoon swim, Ray noticed that one of our front tyres was so badly worn that the inner part of it had wire showing, so after many phone calls this morning, we have located new tyres which have been promised for overnight delivery tonight.  With any luck we'll be back on the road tomorrow afternoon, and with great-grandchild No. 2 promising to arrive a week earlier than anticipated, we are keen to get to Mackay in double-quick time.

Keep your fingers crossed that (1) the tyres arrive tomorrow, as promised and (2) that the current tyre hangs in long enough for the 2 km drive to Bridgestone!!!