On the Tarmac

Australia is in the grip of its worst drought in many years so typically, a few hours after bolting the tent onto the roof rack it poured with rain.  However, apart from slowing up the packing, it cleared the air and our (reasonably) early start was greeted with a fine morning and clear views of the distant mountains as we left the urban conurbation of Brisbane and set out west.  Heavy traffic meant slow progress for the first hour after which, as we cleared the city we made better progress.  I anticipated that the long slow climb onto the Great Dividing Range towards Toowoomba would have us grinding along in second gear, but Vin Rouge decided that it was time to get cracking and we roared up, passing truck after truck.  Coffee at Picnic Point is something of a ritual for us, but we didn’t stay too long, despite the attractions of the scenic vista.  As we made progress the traffic thinned until we were passing only road trains carting cattle towards the east and four wheel drives from the various mining and gas drilling plants.  There were a lot of road trains, and a lot of prime steaks on the move.

Soon we were pretty much on our own.  Despite the seemingly never-ending roadworks the k’s mounted up as the scenery became less green and the land less undulating.  We did see a great many kangaroo carcases, victims of altercations with trucks.  By late afternoon, as the sun was making its inevitably journey towards the horizon, we pulled up at the small town of Mitchell, checked into the caravan park, set up camp – surprisingly quickly as it’s been a few years since we last did it – walked over the bridge and immersed ourselves in the naturally warm waters of the artesian spa.  Glorious.  The aches of travelling washed away courtesy of the Great Artesian Basin.

It took a little while to get used to sleeping in the rooftop tent.  Was that because we were unused to it or because the temperature dropped like a stone to freezing?  Either way it was not the best night’s sleep we’ve ever had.  But morning dawned bright and crisp, and it was not long before the sun’s warming rays restored us, along with hot tea and porridge.  Then it was time to hit the tarmac.

We’re told that Tambo is famous for its teddy bears.  Now I confess that I’ve not previously heard of Tambo, let alone their teddies, but stop we did to check them out.  They are rather special, made of pure sheepskin in a variety of colours that sheep were never meant to be.

On again and as we made further progress west the road trains became longer and the other traffic less.  Blackall is reckoned to be the place where the outback begins, marked by a tree stump that was used as a survey point 150 years ago and so I guess we can say that we are now in the Outback proper.  Augathella we somehow missed.  Barcaldine passed under our wheels with little to notice it.  A near altercation with a large kangaroo was averted by application of the air horns, quite a few wedge-tailed eagles flew languidly away from their carrion at our approach and eventually we arrived at Ilfracombe.  Now Ilfracombe cannot the described as the hub of the universe, but the Wellshot Hotel serves magnificent lamb shanks (two of ‘em) plus veggies.

So here we are at the end of day two, well over a thousand kilometres from Brisbane and we’re not even out of Queensland.  Australia is a big country.