Broken Hill

Agfair is on, short for Agricultural Fair, a biannual event attended by hordes from all over the place, not just the area around Broken Hill. Luckily we brought our tent as every room in town was booked out long ago, but we knew that before we got here. And it will be good to catch up with Dinah who has come from Ballarat for the fair.
Wearher forecast is good, and proves true. Tent goes up and down dry as a bone. Coming into town we are struck by the amount of road kill we pass, there seemed to have been a dead roo every few feet.  Then there were the emus.. couple of large groups and quite a few pairs and singles. Just across the NSW border we stop for a cuppa at a tiny truck stop where a local isn't surprised by any of this and we will apparently see plenty of goats and maybe a pig on the way into town. Dead right . No pig but plenty of feral goats.
We got the tent up in time to glimpse a beautiful sunset and hope for the same tomorrow.  Caught up with Dinah who kindly provides dinner which we enjoy with a Clare Valley Reisling in her motel room.  We are following our time honoured tradition of camping with virtually nothing but a tent and bedding. There's always a cafe within reach.. We have gear and could cook, etc if we wanted to..

Where better for coffee the next morning than the cafe and Memorial overlooking the town. Surprise! Shut for refurbishment.  The Memorial is still accessible and testament to just how difficult life was in the mines. Cave-ins, bad air, explosions, falls, septicaemia, and more.  Main Street and the Heritage trail and coffee at last.  I think there are a lot of hotels, but when we see old photos they were in much greater supply in the past.  In its heyday Broken Hill was really buzzing. The larger mines are gone, but there is still silver coming out of the ground round here.
The controversial photography  exhibition of full size nudes is certainly worth a look, some straightforward,  some confronting but all interesting.  I cannot recall the artist's name but will check it.  Deborah Kelly.   A second exhibition of videos tantalises us but it doesn't open until the evening. 

Rob found an ad for an interesting milk bar or rather soda fountain so that's obviously the place for lunch. It is a wonderfully preserved place where original syrup recipes are made up in small batches to flavour the sodas and spiders. The kitchen and living quarters at the rear have been turned into a museum. Authentic 50s and with excellent free Wifi. 

We missed the Royal Flying Doctors in Alice Springs but not again. Video and a look at the planes with  lot of encouragement to check out the shop. It was more interesting than I make it sound.  

There are many sculptures in the living desert outside town, and the time to see them is at sunset we hear.  They would have looked absolutely wonderful I think in a brighter sunset but once more that eludes us. They are wonderful in their own right so we enjoy them just a little envious of the bus tour we encounter who have brought their own wine and snacks. 

 Silverton is a town about 30km from Broken Hill which was once a thriving metropolis but is now just a remnant of its former glory. Among other films, tv shows and advertisements, Mad Max 2 was filmed in the area and memories and memorabilia abound.  The pub is full of photos of crews and behind the scenes shots and it was good to come across one of a much loved former workmate tucked in behind the main cast.


I would rather forget Silverton - when we arrived back in Broken Hill I couldn't find my keys and realised that the loud clatter we heard a few kilometres from Silverton was the keys falling off the roof of the car.  We drove about 20km back and lo and behold there they were, run over, a little broken up but still looking as though they will work.  Phew.

Little worried about the forecast rain and because he cannot find his Rob buys a raincoat and we drive out of town towards Menindee.

Peterborough

This is a town with a glorious past as the hub of the railway network in north east SA.  There is evidence of it everywhere you look here. Checking in with our very generous and genial host Rick we then head off to the tourist info office (in a converted carriage) to get all the news around town. A heritage walking trail takes us about the place and we are booked into the sound and light show at Steamtown, the rail museum. 
Peterborough is like a lot of regional towns, an interesting mix of old buildings and shopfronts ,many of which are no longer operating.  There has been an effort to preserve them as the town is heavily reliant on the tourist dollar.
Yes, the leftover lunches were delicious. Rick told us about the good chip shop round the corner and we augmented the meal with some very good chips indeed. Off to Steamtown in the courtesy taxi we go. What a great service, what a welcoming town. The show consists primarily of a film depicting the terrific history of steam in the town, with a look at some of the engines in the round house lit up and putting out "steam". All from the comfort of our seats in  yet another converted carriage - is there no end to them?

In the morning we head back there for a tour of the old sheds, engines and carriages. Not before a trip to the Motorcycle Museum, one man's collection of bikes now housed in a former church. Alongside the considerable range of bikes is a second collection - memorabilia of all sorts which is actually another man's collection bought in toto on his death and added to from  time to time. Eclectic and fascinating, triggering memories of lots and lots of toys, food, coins and even cigarettes and tobacco.
Steamtown lives up to our expectations. They very sensibly run a continuous tour which we join and make our way with Phil past the 'end' to catch up with the start.  Great way to ensure everyone gets to see and hear everything they want to. I've seen quite a few rail museums and always enjoy them. This one is big, very big, and the scope of the exhibits impressive. Takes a couple of hours at the very least.
Onward ..  Broken Hill

A LITTLE BEHIND, A LITTLE CATCHUP

Following the days at the rock we headed South again, with an overnight stop above ground at Coober Pedy. While driving we decided to go to have a look at Port Pirie which we found surprisingly pretty for an industrial town.  

 The Chinese restaurant gets a reasonable write up online so that will make a change from pub food (though we did deviate from that a bit at Yulara).  I cannot really recommend it highly, bit too much sauce with cornflour for my liking. Otherwise it was fine. We did locate a good place for breakfast after which we take the walking tour around town.

There are a number of former churches around the town several converted to private use of one sort or another.  Rob is particularly taken with the one time church now a Barnacle Bill fish cafe but I prefer the former small cathedral now a dear little laundrette.  We have lunch at the same Cafe Safavi, yet another former church,  and finish up with the local museum. All in all a good decision.

On to the Clare Valley for a couple of nights in Auburn, a lovely smaller town south of Clare itself.
In spite of the thunderous din made by possums directly above us at 0100 we enjoy The Rising Sun Hotel which is well known for its food and rightly so.

 Monday we split up, Rob does the wineries and I rode a bike along the Reisling Trail. We connect briefly over lunch in Clare then again at the bike shop as I return the bike.  I miss my bicycle and it was good to get out on one even riding uphill into a headwind on the outgoing leg.  I passed a couple of other riders but saw no more.
That evening I chatted briefly to a kilt wearing rider who is riding the Mawson Trail alone towards Adelaide.  Of course we compare experiences and I feel nostalgic about my rides
.
A light dinner of excellent soup for me then a night with barely a sound from the furry beasts so we decide to stay another night and do a day trip to the Barossa Valley including a catch up with old friend Will in Angaston. Really what decided the extra night was the prospect of dining in Clare at Seed where we do have a truly delicious meal.  Allowing the kitchen to decide what we will eat could be a disaster but thankfully is far from it. None of the four shared entrees is something we would have chosen for ourselves and we learn the lesson not to be so narrow in our selections. The baked trout (in local paperbark) is outstanding.
Another peaceful night and off we go to Skillogalee where the scones and jam are a good as ever. A quick stop at Martindale Hall at Mintaro then lunch at my favourite in Burra - La Pecora Nera. VERY BEST wood fired pizza with water thin crust. Yum and leftovers for dinner that night.

THE ROCK

For all those with scary predictions of how cold it can get at Ayers Rock at sundown and overnight - not this time. The coldest temp overnight was 12°C. Hot days of course.
It is great just to be here, and we happily join the masses driving to and fro between the resort and the national park seeing everything we can in the short time we have. First night in we are on the tour I mentioned in an earlier post to see the art installation Field of Lights which is literally  a field of globes on stems laid out in a field with Uluru in the background. The only way to see it is we think at dusk to watch the lights  come on. As that's what we did I can only presume I'm right. It was beautiful.
Mornings we got up at 5.30 or earlier to make it out to see the dawn. First day was great, second day of to the sunset viewing area to see dawn with fewer people. Sadly also less sun, more cloud. Both days my camera seemed to fail to record any shots. I'm prepared to take responsibility for the first morning add I fiddled with options and settings on the fly. But twice? I don't think so.  Then I tried the cats in another device.. Damaged. Damn and blast.  Will try and salvage it when I get a minute.
Uluru and Kata Tjuta (Ayers Rock and the Olgas) are just as extraordinary as they seem.  It doesn't matter how many times you've seen them depicted, to be there is breathtaking. The size of the single rock is beyond anything.  Walking around the base it is surprisingly cool and shady, one is always led to believe that the rock rises straight out of the red dust. Don't get me wrong, there is plenty of red dust but it is a real treat to walk along the trees when you expect full sun.

Update.. I have now salvaged my photos as best I can. They are here and I did a heap of editing before I posted too many I think.