Rest time in Orroroo

We had intended to spend the last few days in Quorn, as we were interested in completing one of the history walks.   However, when we rang the campsite, they had a party of school children staying there, and were unable to accommodate campers.   

After a quick look at the map we decided on Orroroo, a name made up of the letters o and r, which was further east,  and on a road called R.M. Williams Way.   This road runs between the Flinders Ranges Way and Clare, with the starting point just below Hawker.   

Off we went, past the campsite at Woomera, where we stayed on the way back from Coober Pedy.   The place that closed the barbeque area, due to Covid-19, but kept the bar open, and where we got into trouble for driving over the barriers that separated sites.   

After lunch at Pimba, we drove down the Stuart Highway, past Port Augusta, over the range of hills towards Wilmington, and finally took the road east to Orroroo.

And at Orroroo we found a delightful caravan park, privately owned, and therefore not part of a chain.   The place was friendly, with lovely facilities, some of which were shared with the local golf course.

The people in the small prosperous town were even friendlier, and we drank coffee at both cafes, and dinner at one of the pubs.   Plus spent quite a bit of money in the local butchers shop, where I bought normal meat, no sustainable or feral platters for me.   

We were tempted, for a couple of minutes, to buy a four bedroomed cottage, with stables, for $90,000.   We of course do not have $90,000 to spare, for one thing, nor do we, or our family, want to come up to Orroroo to spend every vacation.    We saw reason very quickly.   But the houses in the town were old, well maintained, and cheap.   Unfortunately I did not take any photographs of the delightful old houses, mostly built of sandstone.

There was a creek running through the valley below the town, with aboriginal carvings on a face rock.   The rock had a cage around it so it was impossible to take photographs.   A delightful walk.

As it was early spring, there was green grass everywhere, and Piper loved running around in it.    And I took her down to the golf course every morning for her early morning walk and ball play.   I could see that once summer arrived the grass would turn brown, the greens on the course were made of a soft bitumen.   No watering needed there.

The main street of Orroroo, which in fact had vehicles parked during the day.   I must have caught the town at a very quiet time.

The local town hall.   Very imposing.

Coffee time.   The buildings that lined the well kept street of shops, with buildings dating back to the 1870s.

                                                    

A photograph below of the pub where we did not have dinner.   It was difficult to choose which pub to go to,  so we went to the one where the owners also cooked and served the meals, as against the other one which was run by a manager.   However, there was a long wait for dinner.   And I cannot remember what I ordered either, so must have been acceptable.

                                        

We drove to Peterborough, not to be confused with Peterborough in the UK.  Our Peterborough was established in 1875, and was called Petersburg initially, but there was a name change in 1917 due to the perceived connection with Germany.  It became the intersection for the trains running south to Adelaide, west to Broken Hill, east to Port Pirie, and north to Quorn and then Alice Springs.   It is still possible to see the three railway gauges here: broad, standard and narrow.   T

There were also very large railway workshops situated here, and currently these are used as a museum.   

All rail services stopped in the 1980s, although tourist trains continued until 2002.     The signpost and part of the long platform at Peterborough.

The town had received funding to renovate buildings and verandahs, and it all looks very smart, but sadly due to the lack of overseas and interstate tourists, there were few people on the streets.

The owner of the caravan park at Orroroo informed us that there was a huge drug problem in Peterborough, namely crystal meth (methamphetamine).   Or its common name of Ice.   Unexpected, or perhaps not, as it is a problem drug in South Australia.  

Finally a photograph of Walter, standing in front of a giant gum tree.   No point trying to hug this tree.

We packed up reluctantly, drank our last coffee, and left to drive home to Aldinga Beach, 324 km away.

Now this should be the end of the tale, except Walter left his bag at the cafe, and we did not realise until we reached Clare, 138 km from Orroroo.   

I cannot point my finger at Walter for being careless, as I once left my handbag, which included my two passports, telephone, money, cards, in fact my whole life, in a taxi which we had stepped out of,  at Changi Airport.   And we were about to fly to Australia.   Now that was scary.  I got my handbag back luckily, due to Walter ringing my telephone, which alerted the taxi driver.   But we spent fifteen minutes in sheer panic initially.   So Walter leaving his bag at the cafe was nothing compared to my handbag incident.   

We retraced our steps (driving of course) and arrived back at the cafe in time for lunch.   Now I know we thought Orroroo was very special and I had had my eye on the pies at this particular cafe when we left at 10 o'clock.  But it was a long journey just to enjoy the pies that we could not have at coffee time.   They were delicious!    There is always a silver lining in every mistake.

Altogether a fantastic eleven day journey through outback Australia.

Red dust, and more red dust.

Red dust, and more red dust.   I think a more general term is 'Bull Dust'.   The dust is a fine red aeolian dust which is formed from minute dry particles and when it is disturbed it forms into a choking dust.  It gets inside cars, caravans and buildings and it fills the holes in roads.   We were told to watch out for the deep potholes on tracks which are filled with dust, as they can ruin tyres and suspension if they are particularly deep or have sharp sides.   

On the Sunday we tried to drive to the hot springs at Clayton, about 40 km along the Birdsville Track.  There was a camping ground there, plus a huge hot tub.    As the temperature was 30 degrees, with a hot dry desert wind, we were not tempted to try the hot tub, but thought a trip there would be interesting.   After 10 kms of travelling on a terrible corrugated road, we turned back towards Marree.   If we had deflated the tyres a bit it would have been less jarring.   

Walter enquired at the store and was assured that we would be okay travelling on the Oodnadatta Track, before turning left onto the Borefield Road towards Roxby Downs.   So we dispensed with the plan to return back along the main road to Quorn, and decided that north west would be the way to go.   An extra 191 km onto the 780 km that we had already travelled.   

The 191 km was going to be a slow bumpy drive!

After purchasing fly spray, for the pesky flies in the caravan, and some more expensive spring water., we drove to the pub.   The bore water in Marree was terrible, even the filter in the caravan did not remove the metallic taste.  There was no way we were going to fill our drinking water containers with that rubbish.   

We realised that we did not have a shovel, or a good tyre pressure gauge or indeed a good tyre pump, the one we had was purchased in Halfords in the UK, and took ages to pump up tyres.   But we had plenty of water, most important.   We thought there would be enough traffic on the road should we experience any great difficulties. 

The short trip to the pub was for our morning coffee, being a little early in the day for alcohol.  And it was certainly very good coffee too.   After admiring the dead plants with their little stick markers in the front garden of the pub, we sort forth.   Someone must have been inspired to brighten up the front of the pub, but I guess the bore water killed the plants.

A wrecked car in the photograph below, as a reminder to take care.    I think it had been dumped there as it was only a few kilometres out of Marree, and was covered in graffiti.   A desolate place.

One of the many water tanks along the road, was a reminder of the Old Ghan railway which ran alongside the Oodnadatta Track.    The steam engines had to stop at different points in order to fill up with water.   The reason why the railway was built alongside the track was due to the many springs that lined this way north.    Water was crucial. 

After we travelled about 20 kms we passed two cyclists heading towards Marree.   And we were worried about driving on the road!   Luckily they had the strong desert wind behind them.    I wonder how many tyres and tubes they used on their journey.

Just before we turned onto the Borefield Road, we saw the iconic sculptures at Mutonia Sculpture Park.   The park is a bit of a misnomer really as it is a piece of scrub, but the sculptures are pretty spectacular.   We did not see the turn off into the park so pulled up quickly on the road in order to take a few photos. 

The most remarkable sculpture is off two small planes standing on their tail pieces, seen in the photograph below.

Finally the Borefield Road turnoff appeared in front of us, and we were very careful to not get our tyres caught in the bull dust holes in the road.   We had been warned.   The corrugation was pretty bad at this stage so travelling slowly was necessary.

Once on the Borefield Road, the road smoothed out a bit, due to it being maintained by BHP who have a gas line running along the side of the road.   However, every crest we came to the corrugation was jarring to say the least.

Thank goodness for airconditioning though.   It was hot outside.

After a few kilometres of jarring crescents Walter noticed that two of the side windows in the caravan were flapping, so we stopped to have a look.   The corrugation had loosened the catches.   And what a sight greeted us inside the caravan.   My bed, luckily covered with the pop up toilet tent was a thick layer of red dust, as were the curtains.   In fact the white net curtains were now red!   There was thick dust on the floor and over the bench top at the back of the caravan.

What could one do at that point but lock the windows and keeping driving on.

We thought it was also a good photo opportunity.    It was very hot and dry.   I forgot to mention it was not a good idea to drive off the road, as the sides were soft.   We did not fancy getting stuck, especially as we did not have a shovel.

Finally we made it to Olympic Dam, the mining site, with its township of Roxby Downs.   There must be plenty of water underground here, as we saw trees and green grass.   An oasis in the desert.

Unfortunately we could not stay overnight, as BHP had booked the cabins and motel units for its workers, and they were not allowing anyone else into the park.   Not even to camp.    This was very disappointing as we were looking forward to resting on green grass, and washing the dust off ourselves, not to mention the inside of the caravan.   

But it was not to be, so after a brief stop to have lunch in the town centre we headed off to Andamooka, an opal mining place 30 kilometres from Roxby Downs.

When one looks at the map, Andamooka is not far from the edge of Lake Torrens National Park, and the park is coloured a bright green.   And I can assure you there is nothing remotely bright green there, and most of the time the lake is a salt lake.   No water.    

Andamooka is as dry as the surrounding countryside, and as dusty.

But there was a caravan park, and it was cheap, $3 per night, per person.   Money was left in a sealed tin near the entrance to the site.   It had a few powered sites, all occupied, and it had a fantastic ablution block, each cabin contained a shower, toilet with a wash basin built into the cistern.   Such a water saving invention.  There was also a disabled toilet, plus an excellent playground and skateboard park.

The caravan park contains the only water point for the town of Andamooka, so a water tanker spends each day ferrying water between the water point and the tanks in the houses in the town.   Basically there is no water supply via pipes anywhere in the town, and as it rarely rains the tanks run dry very quickly.

When I went to have a shower in the evening I only managed to get a dribble of water from the shower head, due to the fact that the tanker was filling up its tank from the water point.   I had been warned but did not believe the source of information.   I paid $2 just to get a few drops of water.   All it did was etch lines through the dust.   Walter had a fantastic shower.   He checked that the tanker was not at the water point.

Walter resting in the shade.

I cleaned  up the dust inside the caravan as there was not enough room for two of us in there.   I threw the white net curtains into a plastic bag, shook the other curtains out, remade the beds and swept the floor.  I spent some time shaking items outside the door, watched by the occupants in the cluster of caravans. I think they watched in sympathy!  There was no point using any water, otherwise I would have had mud to contend with rather than dust.

We have learnt the hard way.  It is imperative to cover all vents, especially the door vents, before driving on dirt roads.   And to secure the window latches.   And tighten anything else that can come loose.    I don't think we are the first people to end up with a caravan full of dirt.  We have since received plenty of sympathy.  

Our view of the small collection of caravans and vehicles clustered around the power points and ablution block.   Most of the people here stayed for the winter, and spent their time opal mining.   One of the men talked to us about opal mining, and showed us a collection of his finds.   Fascinating.

Our view of the local opal mining hills.

Luckily we had solar power units on the roof of our caravan, and of course we still had plenty of water, so we spent a very comfortable night at the caravan park.   Due to the extravagant use of fly spray in Marree we spent the night without bush flies.

Late in the afternoon we visited Andamooka, which was an interesting place.   A pity we were not planning to stay longer but we had had enough of dust and were keen to move on the next day.

So we did not see the pub, museum or information centre.  But we had a look at the old miners' cottages.

Opals were discovered by two stockmen in 1930 and as it was in the middle of the depression miners travelled from afar to mine here.    It was amazing to see the cottages they built as building materials were scarce.

The cottages certainly looked ramshackle from the outside,

but the accommodation, although basic, looked quite comfortable.

After the last dusty few days we intended to find some green grass.  

Sustainable sausages in Marree

Sustainable sausages in Marree.   Who knows what constitutes the content inside the skins, but then that can be said about all sausages.   Mystery bags.

And talking about the more unusual choices in a restaurant.   Parachilna, at the end of the road out of Angorichina, and on the main highway from Port Augusta to Marree, is said to be famous for its 'Feral Food Platter' at the Prairie Hotel.   The term 'feral' gets used often in South Australia, even to describe a certain type of person, but my imagination ran wild with this term, especially after watching the Landline programmes on the problem of feral animals in Australia.    Now what exactly constitutes the meat on a 'Feral Food Platter'?   I think I prefer not to find out.   

Blinman, is well known for their pies in their pub, but I think that they contain 'normal fillings'.   But then exactly what is 'normal' out in these outback places.   

Sadly we did not stop in Parachilna, which has an amazing fossil site, dating back some 600 million years.  And Parachilna has also attracted moviemakers, with the following movies being filmed there:  Holy Smoke, Beautiful Kate and Rabbit Proof Fence.   

A return to this area is a must for next year, not only to visit the towns we bypassed but also to visit the far northern Flinders area of Arkaroola.   

We carried on driving north, with a short visit to Leigh Creek, once a coal mining town, and where we found most shops were vacant.   A ghost town.   Thank goodness we did not camp there, which was an original intention.   Further on at the small settlement of Copley we saw the turnoff to Arkaroola, which we bypassed this time.   Then a stop at Lyndhurst for a picnic lunch at the rest stop.   The roadhouse in Lyndhurst was closed so no coffee.    There were self service pumps there, so important as service stations were many kilometres apart up in this part of the country.    The Strzelecki Track starts at Lyndhurst.

Farina, pronounced in South Australia either with a short 'i' or a long 'ee'.   Probably the correct pronunciation is a long 'ee'. Farina is the Latin word for flour or meal made from cereal grains.  Wheat crops were grown on the plains around here during the 1880s when the town was laid out in quite large sections.   Initially the rains were unusually good, and the town flourished.   At its peak the town had a bakery, grain store, two breweries, two hotels, a general store, post office, Anglican Church, five blacksmiths, and  a school.    Initially the railway north ended in Farina. 

When the normal climate returned, bringing years of drought and dust storms, people started moving away.   The Post Office closed in the 1960s and the railway line closed in 1980.

Currently there is a sheep or cattle station close by, a camping ground, a new building and a bakery, which is run by volunteers (I think) and bread, cakes and pastries are baked there during the winter months.   Sadly not this year, due to the lack of tourists.   There is a restoration group, and they aim to restore as much of the town as possible.

The old hotel, also once a hospital too, I think.

A flat desolate landscape.   Apparently dust was horrendous here during dust storms and it was impossible to keep it out of the houses.   Such a desolate place!

We, like many people, have had a wish to visit Marree.    Apparently during the winter months, before Covid-19, the town was full of visitors.    And once a year the camel races brought thousands of people to the town.    

Of course we were not aware of this when we first arrived and wondered why there was so much accommodation available, namely two caravan parks, and a hotel with camping facilities and motel rooms.   In our caravan park there were rows of cabins available for hire.

We chose a spot that looked like it was once the base of a motel room.  We could see the old plumbing outlets buried in the concrete.   It was also beside a cabin that contained a shower, toilet and handbasin.    There were three of these ablution cabins for the whole campsite.  Well that was what it looked like anyway.   The accommodation cabins were fully self contained.    We also had a tree which gave a bit of shade.

Next to us was the camp kitchen, which was surprisingly very comfortable.    The lounge room below.

And the outdoor eating area, together with a place for a camp fire, wood provided.

Our view, flat and desolate.   The Oodnadatta Track passed by in the distance, so we watched the steady stream of vehicles making their way north or south.    And once the Ghan would have passed by too.

Our view a little further south was towards the old railway line and an old rusty engine.

The Marree roadhouse, which supplied and organised a fair bit of the places and activities in the town.  It ran our caravan park, sightseeing flights, the postal service as well as a cafe, general store and fuel pumps.   And plenty of information was gained from there.

There was a sailing club in Maree.   Quite amazing to see the yachts stored under the building.   Apparently when Lake Eyre has water in it, not often I know, there are yacht races on it..

Marree is still the gateway to Lake Eyre and is at the junction of the Birdsville and Oodnadatta Tracks.  Amazingly it is only 49 metres above sea level. 

Marree now serves the large sheep and cattle stations around it, plus the tourists who travel through it.   There is a very large Aboriginal Community Centre and school. 

It has a history of of being the centre for transport and communication.   The narrow gauge railway line, from Port Augusta to Alice Springs, ran through the town.   And of course it was a major stop for the Ghan.    

The Central Australia Railway reached Marree in 1883, and in 1929 the railway was extended north to Alice Springs, and it became the route of the passenger train which became known as The Ghan.   When the standard gauge line was built and ran as far as Marree The Ghan ran from Marree to Alice Springs.   When the new railway track opened up further west, in 1987, the old narrow gauge and the standard gauge line from Leigh Creek was no longer used.

When does the next train arrive?   Sadly no trains.   The very long platform at Marree, without any passengers waiting for a train.

The old rusty diesel engine.   

There were many billboards surrounding the old station, plus a museum which was not open.

Mostly though Marree is a little rustic, and certainly could do with a little sprucing up, but then perhaps the fact that it is a bit rough around the edges makes it more appealing to the tourists.   

Marree was the home of Tom Kruse, one of the men who drove the mail trucks from Marree to Birdsville in Queensland.   There was a display in the Marree pub.

The pub was the centre of the social life in Marree.   There were always cars parked at the front, and it was certainly busy on the night we went there for dinner.    It was easy to dine inside too, knowing your dog was happily sitting in the car outside the window.    

My choice of food was questionable and not sure why I was so adventurous. The thought of sausages and mash really appealed, but I did not look at the 'sustainable' part or the order, until the food arrived at the table.    I know I have become a bit conservative about sausages, after 26 years in the UK.   Good quality pork sausages were my choice normally.    Consequently I picked at the small sausage, as I thought about what was in it, and kept the large sausage for lunch the next day.   Of course I never ate that sausage.   The sustainable sausages were made at a local station, of what, who knows.   I also did not want to find out either.

Marree was the home of Australia's first mosque, in the photograph below, which was built of mud brick.   The Afghan cameleers where employed when Marree was first built.   

Piper loved Marree, as she could be off lead, due to the lack of traffic around the caravan park.   There was also a little piece of grass in the playground.  She did not stray away from us though and it was lovely to give her a little bit of freedom.

However, on the second night two other campers arrived and I should have put her back onto a lead straight away.  A man from one of the campers strode across to the camp kitchen with his esky in his arms.  Piper went absolutely crazy and would not stop barking at him.   Of course the man yelled at us for not having our dog on a lead.    Piper has a thing about men carrying boxes!   

All this happened as I was walking down the steps of the caravan, with a lead in my hand.   We were about to go for a walk.    In the chaos that ensued I forgot to shut the screen door of the caravan.   The hot, dry and dusty weather had brought the bush flies along with it, and most of them ended up in our caravan!

They were everywhere, on the ceiling, on the curtains, on every surface, on us, on Piper.   Walter spent an hour swatting them with a tea towel, without much success.   So we lived with them for the night.   I think they slept happily on top of us all night.

As soon as the roadhouse opened the next morning, we bought fly spray, and gave the inside of the caravan a good spray.

Pies in Blinman

On the middle day at Angorichina, we travelled back to Blinman, and noticed that without a caravan at the back of us, the road was less tough.   However the road through the gorge was still very rough, and sometimes it was hard to know where the creek bed finished and the road began.

Before I write further I must cover two points.   One was that there was no mobile connection at Angorichina or Blinman or anywhere in the vicinity.   This meant no internet either, something we were certainly not used to.  We had to resort to normal books!

The second point related to poison being laid in these rural areas, which I knew about when I investigated travelling to Arkaroola.   National Parks were quite informative about the poison, 1080, that was put down to get rid of foxes which destroyed the local wildlife.    Now 1080 poison is pretty drastic.  But of course what I did not know was that 1080 was also put down on properties too, in order to kill the wild dogs which attack the sheep (mostly lambs) and calves.  

When we returned home we watched a television series about feral animals in Australia, namely wild dogs (sometimes interbred with dingoes), foxes, wild cats, goats, camels, brumbies (wild horses), pigs, deer, rabbits, toads and carp.  Of course in the past it was very careless of people to release these animals into the wild.   Now Australia has a huge problem, environmentally and economically.    

But having just returned from the UK where there was an uproar about fox hunting, it was mind blowing to hear about the feral animals, and more so to hear about the methods used to get rid of them.   1080 poison was widely used around the Flinders, both in the National Parks and grazing properties, and was sold in the shop in Angorichina.   Outback Australians are pragmatic for sure.

Probably if I did not have a dog I would not be even aware of the feral dog problem, and certainly would not be aware of the 1080 poison.   So unless we are in a town, a camping ground or a rest area, Piper does not get out of the car, unless she wears a muzzle.       

But onto Blinman, an old copper mining town.    Copper was discovered by a one-legged shepherd called Robert 'Peg Leg' Blinman who discovered copper there.   Copper mining occurred between 1862 to 1907.  There are now only about 10 permanent residents in Blinman but during the day the numbers of people swell, even during Covid-19 when there are less tourists around.

As well as a mine tour, which did not appeal after clambering through tunnels in Coober Pedy, there is a very interesting self guided tour.   So many old cottages.   Fascinating.

The building in the photograph below is of the old cottage hospital.   Plus a couple of old caravans behind it.   Lots of old caravans in Blinman.

A close up photograph of the old hospital. with the remains of the gate in front.  It was a fairly rough and ready building,

made of logs with a sort of mortar holding it together.   

Another very old log building on the main street.

The Blinman pub, even during Covid-19 times still attracted a large group of people.   The photograph below was taken at about 11.50 a.m.

And by 12.10 pm there was not an available parking spot in front of it.   We ate the house speciality, meat pies, and they were certainly delicious.    

We decided to take a detour back to Angorichina, via the Glass Gorge. which was designated a 4 wheel drive track but the local information was that our all wheel drive vehicle should handle it well, just take it easy.   And yes the condition of the road varied considerably, from smooth gravel, to pot holes, to corrugations, to rocky and uneven parts to many dry creek beds.  We travelled slowly and the car performed brilliantly.
 
The scenery was spectacular. with rock formations, different soils and ever changing colours.

Finally we made it back to Angorichina, where we sat in the sun on the sheltered side of the caravan.  A chilly wind had sprung up during the day.  Little did we know that the chilly wind would become stronger and prove to be a hot wind, with red dust, that caused quite a few problems at our next destination, Maree.

A family arrived in Angorichina, and camped behind us, which meant we had to put our toilet tent up.  It was great to have company though.   They had a delightful small dog with them, and Piper spent quite a few happy hours playing with him.

I have a mental block when recalling the name of Angorichina, due no doubt to having difficulties with the pronunciation.

Angorichina Tourist Village!

Moving on, and into territory we have never visited, so it was with great anticipation that we set forth on the Thursday morning.   In perfect weather with a blue sky, a warm temperature and no wind.   

Our aim was to reach our final destination, Maree, sometime in the next few days, and look at some of the settlements along the way.

Our first stop, only 41 kms up the road, was Quorn, the home of the Pichi Richi Railway, which still runs as a tourist train between Port Augusta and Quorn.   The old Ghan line to Darwin went through Quorn, then up to Maree, along the Oodnadatta Track to Alice Springs, all on a narrow gauge line.   It was beset with problems as sections of the line were often swept away when creeks flooded.   The railway was built along the existing track north as there were springs and water holes on this route, which meant explorers and camel drivers had sufficient water as they travelled north.  Initially the line only went as far as Oodnadatta and passengers had to continue further on camels.   Many settlements sprang up to service the railway. And much water was needed for the steam trains.  Then a standard gauge line was built as far as Maree, nnd the Old Ghan Service continued from there.   Finally in 1980 a standard gauge was built west of the line, away from the flood plains, from Pt Augusta to Alice Springs.  Also the diesel trains did not need water.  Sadly it spelt the end of the settlements along the Old Ghan line.

But back to Quorn.    The last time we were there was in 1979, and the town appeared to be the same, just less prosperous, although that could be due to the lack of overseas and interstate tourists.  

After coffee in the Quandong Cafe, great atmosphere, where we drank excellent coffee but ate terrible cake, we decided to have a quick walk around the town.   Quandong fruit, a native bushland food,  is made into pies at the cafe.   Sadly they had sold out so we could not try them.

As in many of the outback towns there were pubs, and in this town we could see three main ones.   Superb old buildings.    One on each corner.

And this one opposite the railway station.

The old railway station, which also doubles as an information centre, with a museum too.   Sadly no time for a good look around, so we said that we would stay in Quorn on the way back from Maree.

We bought a new road atlas, which had very detailed maps of the area.   Surprisingly I could not get enough information from Google Maps to show me the condition of roads, or in fact the detail that I needed to plan our trip.   When Walter looked at the road atlas he found that after the next town, Hawker, we could follow a sealed public road through the Ikara-Flinders Ranges National Park to Blinman.   No dogs were allowed in this park, so we knew that we could not visit Wilpena Pound, or even stop along the way, but at least we could see the scenery as we travelled through.

Our plan was to travel back from Maree along the Outback Highway or Explorers Way and catch up on the sights we missed on the way up, including a good look at Hawker (including the panoramic painting) and Quorn, but we changed our mind when we arrived in Maree.  Always the way!

On our travels we saw many ruins, settlements that were founded on hope but ended in failure, and not just due to the Old Ghan railway closing down.   

We stopped at this site, Wilson Historic Site, which was once a railway siding, on the Old Ghan railway line.   A town was established in 1881 as a centre for a farming community.   Initially grain was grown here, as it appeared the land was fertile and there was plenty of rain at that time, and they had a few good years of productive grain production.   But the goodness in the soil was soon depleted and in reality there was very little rain. 

in 1885 there were 12-14 dwellings, with a post office, church and hotel, and it was the centre of sports in the area.   But lack of rain and  droughts meant that the town could not survive.   By 1929 everyone had left.   The ruins can be seen from the old train station.

We stopped once, only briefly, on the road through to Blinman, in order to take a few photos of the distance ranges.   The area around Wilpena Pound was heavily wooded, which was quite a surprise after the arid plains between Quorn and Hawker.     

There were also many places to stop, heritage sites, and lookouts, including a ridge of sandstone called 'The Great Wall of China' but with a dog in the car it was not possible to stop and really have a look.

We turned left at Blinman, and continued on the very rough unsealed road, through the Parachilna Gorge, to a place with an unlikely name of Angorichina Holiday Village.    

I still cannot get used to the term 'holiday' or 'tourist village' as a description for anything outback here.   It does not mean green grass, swimming pool, upmarket accommodation, sporting facilities, amazing playgrounds, even a bar/restaurant perhaps as it would in the UK or Europe.   In the outback it means not quite roughing it, but almost, and in Angorichina that was precisely it.   There was the usual grocery store/fuel pumps/hardware/tyre shop, all combined, which also sold coffee, plus a huge building for groups, and quite reasonable cottages for hire, plus a camping ground.   All very rustic.  It was set amongst quite spectacular scenery with rocks, cliffs, valleys, gum trees and plenty of dust.   Not a blade of grass anywhere.

There were vehicles parked in front of the store, marked Blinman Hotel, and it would appear that they act as a taxi service should one wish to travel to Blinman for an evening of food and alcohol.  They also offered tours of the local area, and a bit further afield.  I guess this was prior to Covid-19 restrictions and lack of tourists.   Perhaps all the extra services qualified the 'tourist' part in the name.

There was also an excellent walk to Blinman Pools, which would have been great to do had we been ten years younger.  Plenty of clambering up and down slopes, according to the description on the sign.  However, no dogs allowed on this walk so that was out anyway. 

An interesting welcome sign at the front gate!    The old building on the right was the pump house. Bore water.

 

Interestingly the settlement at Angorichina was once a TB rehabilitation centre.  Plenty of hot dry weather here. After World War I the men who ran Angorichina Station gave the TB Soldiers Aid Society some land which was to become the site of a hostel for TB patients.  As well as the hostel, that housed patients and nursing staff,  there were chalets.   The hostel now provides accommodation for large groups.   There was a group of secondary school students there when we stayed in the camping ground.   They arrived in relative comfort in a coach.  But back in 1927 it must have been a long trip, first by train to Parachilna, then by car or horse and cart to the hostel.   Tough times.    

The camping ground was rustic, although surprisingly very comfortable.   The small toilet block had gaps under the walls and doors, so I certainly kept an eye out for the slithery creatures.   There were communal basins for hand washing.   The shower blocks were interesting, in that the men's block had six showers, with water resistant carpet in the centre of the room and six hand basins.   The women's block had three showers, no carpet, a washing machine and a tub!

There were two covered communal areas with barbeques, and again fire pits everywhere, with wood provided from the store.

We had taps on each site so could hook up the caravan to one of them.    As we were the only people there on the first night we took the cover off the portaloo and placed it beside the caravan, with a view over the valley.   It was full moon!    Nothing beats a view from the perch.  

Piper had to learn to do her business on stones and dirt.    No lovely grass anywhere.   A learning experience for her.    She is a spoilt dog.

The views from the camping ground were spectacular.

And more adventures the next day.