But first, there was a 4WD course to be done with the All Wheel Drive Club. This was over the weekend immediately prior to the start of our "big trip". My aim in joining the club and doing the course was to find out exactly what our Prado was capable of, and how to drive it capably in fair dinkum 4WD conditions. We rendezvoused with our fellow pupils and trainers, Stuart and Steve, at 0830 on Saturday 9 Feb at the Zig Zag Railway carpark, tyres deflated to 25psi and ready to go. By 4pm on Sunday we had driven up and down terrain which, if you had pointed me at it on Saturday morning, I would have said, "No Way!" I was amazed by what our vehicles could do, and finished much more confident about the car's ability and my own ability to use it. And what a hoot the weekend was - lots of fun, and good skills learned. We'll be doing more trips with the club in future, and in late April Susie gets to do her own 4WDrivers course. That one will be much harder for me, as I have to sit in the passenger seat and keep my mouth zipped all weekend!
So after getting home tired but happy on Sunday evening, we spent a hurried Monday getting the trailer provisioned and packed up, and set off Tuesday 12th for.... Jo and Sean's driveway in Vincentia on beautiful Jervis Bay, and a bed in their guest room.
After a good night of catching up with Jo, Sean, and grandkids Chloe and Jamie, we headed for Narooma. It should be said at this point that our intention was not to do any serious 4WDriving on this trip, but just to get used to using and towing the camper, staying mostly in caravan parks. So we trundled into Narooma early in the afternoon and checked out the riverfront BIG4 caravan park. Huge and crowded and not very enticing - so we went to to see the lovely lady at the Info Centre. She suggested a much quieter little park 10 kays back up the coast at Dalmeny. I have fond memories of Dalmeny from surfing there way back in the sixties, so we went to have a look, and found an uncrowded little park right on the point overlooking the very surf break I had enjoyed way back then, with an unspoiled beach stretching away to the north. The manager lady hopped off her ride-on mower and wandered over, we booked an unpowered site for two nights. "That'll be 40 bucks", she said. "Any discount for seniors?" says Susie. "Sure, that's 30 bucks." Beauty!
So off we went to our allocated site and began setting up. Two hours later we finished - and Susie was ready to go home!
Apart from putting it up and down once (well, actually twice for me as I had to turn it around in a howling southerly while Susie was away!) in Narrabeen Caravan Park way back in December, and then forgetting lots of stuff, this was essentially our First Time. First up, the site was slightly slopey, so we had to stuff around finding a couple of pavers to drive a wheel onto to level up the trailer. After that, putting up the tent part of the trailer is really a piece of cake and should take about 10 minutes max, but we managed to make a meal of that as well. Then we had to put up the annex, which is much more complicated! But we got the job done, had a nice meal and a glass of wine, and things looked a bit better.
We enjoyed Dalmeny so much we stayed an extra night.
On our first morning we found our way to the nearby Lake Mummuga for a paddle. Tucked in behind the beach, the lake is about 10 kays around the shores, almost completely surrounded by bush, and full of water birds, including a bunch of 30 or so black swans. Classy birds. We cruised around the lake, I found a set of water ski slalom buoys and thought here's a chance for some sprints. But after 2 flat out efforts the length of the buoys, my desire to hurt myself waned and I slipped back into holiday cruise mode. That afternoon we got on the bikes and pedalled the 10 kays into Narooma along the beautifully scenic coastal walking/riding trail, had a look around, bought some oysters and fresh caught fish at the co-op, and cycled home for a glass and a feed.
Next day was Valentine's Day, which we celebrated in the morning with a long walk north along the deserted beach, a paddle and a swim, coffee while a shower passed, and then slipped into Narooma to meet our young skipper, Chris, for the boat ride out to Montague Isl. We dozen or so punters donned our PFDs for the crossing of the bar, and out we went across the 8 kays to Barunguba, as the island is known to the local Aboriginal people.
Waiting to meet us on the island was Steve, a very enthusiastic NPWS ranger who immediately asked us if we new the difference between a Nature Reserve (which Montague is) and a National Park. Ummmm, no. The answer: a NR allows no visitors except for educational purposes. So we weren't allowed off the island until we told Steve about something we had learned on his tour. It wasn't hard. He was choc full of interesting stuff about the island's aboriginal history, the history of the lighthouse and it's keepers, and the flora and fauna on the island. After passing the test and saying goodbye to our new mate Steve, we motored around the point and went snorkelling with the local NZ fur seal colony. Playful buggars.
We packed up next morning a bit more quickly than we had set up three days before, and set off for the markets at quaint little Central Tilba. Now you can't go to the market in a little country town like Central Tilba without visiting the ladies of the CWA in the 150 odd year old Memorial Hall, can you? And you have to buy something, which in our case involved a couple of beautiful hand stitched cot quilts, an exquisite chocolate cake, and the mandatory half hour chat with the lovely CWA lady who produced it! Follow this with a sampling of the local coffee brew, and we were off again towards our next stop - Mallacoota, just south of the Vic border.
Mallacoota. Yeah, not bad, and we enjoyed our 2 night stay there, but I wouldn't bother to go back. We had a nice, grassy, unpowered waterside site in the mammoth 647 site Foreshore Holiday Park, and enjoyed a couple of paddles around Mallacoota Inlet, a short bike ride, and a game of boule. Dunno - the place just didn't move me. Maybe the fishing is good.
Next stop was the Mt Eliza, Mornington Peninsula driveway of lifelong friend Lesley and husband Otto. It was Otto's birthday, and also at dinner were another couple of lifelong friends, sisters Carol and Sue. When I say lifelong, I mean our parents were all lifelong mates, and Lesley, Carol and I were born within weeks of each other, and all grew up in the same street. So we had a grand old time catching up.
Onward, to the Great Ocean Road via the Sorrento to Queenscliff ferry. We had a great day cruising along the GOR, dropping in to check out Bells Bch just for old times' sake, and on through Lorne and Apollo Bay to the Twelve Apostles and Loch Ard Gorge. Took a load of pics, some of which may be okay, and pulled into Port Campbell Camp Ground quite late for a one nighter.
Our intention the following day, 20th Feb, was to continue along the coast to Robe, but the lure of the grape sucked us inexorably inland towards The Coonawarra. We set up for a couple of nights in Penola, at the southern end of the famous Terra Rossa area of Coonawarra and also the town where St Mary McKillop started all her great work. We checked out her old school and church before setting out on our own pilgrimage in search of the great reds of the Coonawarra. And we found a few!
22nd Feb, we had to be checked in at the ferry terminal for Kangaroo Island by 4pm, and only realised the night before (in totally relaxed holiday mode by now!) that it was actually a fair drive, so packed up early and hightailed it for Cape Jervis, making it with 10 minutes to spare.
Susie had boarded the ferry while I sat in the queue in the Prado awaiting boarding instructions. Everyone had to back their vehicles down the ramp and onto the ferry. I thought, "This could be fun!" And I was right. The ramp guy seemed to be pointing at everyone but me to be next, and the ferry was filling up. Last guy on before me was a giant B-Double which the driver effortlessly backed down the ramp and into a lane with pinpoint accuracy. Then the ramp guy pointed at me, and I thought, "Beauty, all I have to do is park myself in front of him, and I'll be first off!" Then he says, "I want you to back it down the other side of the B-Double between him and the wall, to the back." I thought the truck was ALREADY next to the wall! "Uh, you want me to what?" He must have seen the fear in my eyes, and said, "If you're not keen, one of my guys can do it for you."
My manhood was at stake. I sucked it up. "No, it'll be fine." Shit.
I trundled it down onto the ramp, swung around and looked back. There was no more than a foot either side of the trailer between the wall and the truck. Okay, into reverse, and gingerly down we go. The guy hadn't been kidding - they'd left the whole lane empty for me and I had to back it all the way to the back of the ferry. My shirt was kinda sticky by the time we got there, but with the help of one guy behind me and another on the front fender calling "Left hand down a bit" Right hand down a bit", we made it with my blokey self respect intact. I managed to open the door enough to squeeze out, and went in search of Susie.
Kangaroo Island. We loved it.
Straight off the ferry we turned left and headed towards the Lashmar Conservation Park, Chapman River and Antechamber Bay. The island was dry as a chip, hadn't had rain for a long time, and the "river" was really just a lagoon - about 2 kms long, deep in some places, shallow in others, and beautiful with lots of birds. The bank was grassy and free camping is allowed, so we set ourselves up and settled in to watch the sunset over the glassy waters.
In the morning we were serenaded by the large local magpie population all warbling away just outside our bedroom. After brekky we put the boats in, paddled as far upstream as we could, turned around and paddled to the sea, or almost to the sea. We had to pick the boats up and carry them about 100m over the beach to put in to Antechamber Bay - a long, beautiful, deserted beach with crystal clear water, facing NE and so protected from the big swells from the south. Just little ankle slappers. We paddled for about an hour along the beach and rocky coast, found our own private little patch of sand for a dip, and then back again. Superb.
That afternoon we travelled a bit further along the NE coast to the eastern tip of the island, and to Cape Willoughby Lighthouse. The lighthouse is fully automatic these days and the light tower and adjoining old keepers houses are now administered by the NPWS. The resident ranger in this instance was Cameron, a Scot, and a wonderfully enthusiastic character, knowledgeable about lighthouses in general, and this one in particular. As Susie and I were the only starters for his afternoon tour, we got the full benefit of his love for all things to do with lighthouses. Susie, being a sailor involved in many an offshore race, has an affinity for lighthouses as well, so they were immediately on the same wavelength. We spent about 2 hours being entertained by Cam and his tales. He couldn't believe he was getting paid for working at his hobby. Did you know that a lighthouse historian/junkie is called a Pharologist?
On our way back to our campsite we dropped into Chapman River Wines for a taste. A wonderfully rustic cellar door complete with local art works and sculptures made out of old farm bits, and created out of a big old gal iron shed used as a light aircraft hangar by the previous owner, and a shearing shed before that. We had a great time chatting with Bruce and Diana, the laid back ex Poms who run the place, sipping their wines and buying a couple for "ron".
Next morning we had a quick paddle, packed up, and headed by a roundabout route for the western end of the island - Flinders Chase NP.
First stop was at Kingscote, the biggest town on the island, to complete an errand for a friend, and waddayaknow, right next to the servo where I topped up the tank was the outlet for the local fishing co-op. We walked away with a dozen Coffin Bay oysters and a couple of beautiful, large schnapper fillets for dinner. The evening meal solved, we motored west along the north coast of the island, past Emu Bay and then to Stokes Bay, which we had been told was nice. But pulling into the parking area on the bay, all we saw was rocks. Gently sloping rocks, but just rocks and the sea, with a cliff to our right. Then we saw a small sign with an arrow, saying "beach". Beach?
We got out and followed the sign across the rocks to a small opening in the limestone cliff. After following this tunnel like cleft for about 50 metres it opened out onto a real beach, quite long, with white sand and a naturally occurring rock swimming area protected from waves. Great for kids.
On to Flinders Chase NP. After having a chat to the ranger at the visitor centre we decided to camp at Snake Lagoon, right in the middle of the park. He told us there was no-one else booked in, so we would have the place to ourselves. It was 8 kms along a corrugated gravel road, and when we got there, we found Snake Lagoon had been dry for a very long time. Not to worry... we found a least dusty gravelly spot and set ourselves up. By this time it was 7:30ish and the sun was setting. "Let's have a shower before dinner", we thought. Good idea, then we can get into those oysters and schnapper fillets.
I had had my tub, and it was Susie's turn. Our method in the bush is to boil the kettle, put a bit in the bucket, and top up with cold so it's at least a little warm. Susie had soaped up and was standing in her birthday suit with the bucket poised over her head when she gasped, "Omigod, there's a person!" The person turned out to be Annie, a Finnish backpacker in her late 20s who had walked down the road from the visitor centre. After Susie got over the shock and got some clothes on we introduced ourselves and Annie came over for some dinner and a glass of wine. She wanted to go to the same places we did, so we adopted her, and the three of us traveled together for the next couple of days.
We went to Seal Bay to check out the Australian Sea Lions - mostly asleep on the beach, Kelly's Hill Caves which were quite spectacular, and we were treated to yet another entertaining tour by a very enthusiastic and knowledgeable ranger. A mad keen caver who really knew his stuff.
We followed that up with a visit to the nearby Birds of Prey, Raptor Park, where owner Bart and his friends put on a great show. First up came Fred and Trevor, a magpie and currawong, then a little Australian Kestrel, a Tawny Frogmouth, a Barn Owl, and a Peregrine Falcon. The show was not unlike the bird show at Taronga Park Zoo, but our small group of customers were able to get much more up close and personal.
Then we drove back to Snake Lagoon and in the late afternoon walked the 3 km bush track to the beach. The track gradually dropped into a gully and sometime flowing Rocky River which finally opened out onto a beautiful, wild, triangular beach with cliffs on either side and a big surf pounding in. It was too dangerous to swim, but what a beautiful, unspoiled place.
Back in camp we fired up the Weber and treated ourselves to some succulent KI lamb loin chops washed down with a very acceptable Chapman River "Happiness" Merlot. Nice.
Next morning we drove north to the north western corner of the island, and Cape Borda Lighthouse, where we walked out to the sea cliffs - highest in SA, we were told, and then were given another enthusiastic lighthouse tour and history lesson from Mick. This lighthouse is one of the few in Oz still using the original extremely powerful lense rather than puny LEDs as they do in most lights these days. It seems that with the widespread use of GPS, governments no longer see the need for powerful, long range lights. Then came a nice hot walk in the sun, along the Ravine des Casoars, an 8 km round trip which took us to yet another stunning beach pounded by big surf, and this time with some quite large limestone caves which we were able to walk up into from the beach, with the help of Annie's head torch!
Driving back to the Visitor Centre, we dropped Annie and her gear off so she could hopefully hitch a ride back towards Penneshaw and the ferry next day. We left her happily chatting to a group who were pleased to help out, and continued on to Remarkable Rocks and the Admiral's Arch - both stunning natural formations which are a treat for the eyes.
The 27th was our last full day on the island, and we were booked into Penneshaw Camping Area that night to be able pack up early and make the 0830 ferry next morning. Driving east on the bitumen we passed a sign for Rustic Blue Gallery, and in smaller print, "COFFEE". "Fancy one?" "Yeah." So we wheeled the trailer around and drove in. Good thing we did. The place was a gem - lots of great art works from locals and other Australians from all over, great gardens, a very chatty lady owner (they all are, aren't they?), and a dog I just couldn't resist, so I bought him. His name is "Roo", is made from galvanised tin, and he now sits on the lounge room floor just inside the doors to the back deck, very content with his new home. But the real reason it was a good thing we stopped: when Susie went to pay for a purchase of hers, she realised she had left her card at the NP Visitor Centre the afternoon before! We rang, they had it, told us they had maxed it out, and it would be waiting for Susie at the info counter.
After our little backtrack, I realised I wasn't going to make Penneshaw with what I had in the tank, so pulled into a little place called Vivonne Bay, which was not much more than a general store, with two pumps outside, one unleaded, one diesel. A little sign told me I had to get served by the guy inside, so we went in and let him know we were there. He (the owner) duly came wandering out, complaining about how he had been happily reading his paper when all these bloody PEOPLE had come in and wanted food, and said to me, "How much do you want, mate?" "Oh, might as well fill it up." "Geez, mate, you don't want to do that - have you seen how much it costs here? Just get enough to get you to Penneshaw, and fill up there. Much cheaper!" This guy was the owner! I looked at the dust covered window of the pump, and indeed it was expensive at $1.99 a litre, but by this stage I was grinning all over my face, and couldn't help myself. "Ah, okay, give me 50 bucks worth then." Worth every cent!
We stopped at a couple more local wineries on the way, and that night ate at the pub in Penneshaw. I had some local crumbed King George whiting fillets which were sensational, and Susie had an equally good curry which we paired with a lovely local red.
Next morning, there we were in the queue at the ferry, and guess what? Almost the exact scenario unfolded as the trip over, complete with giant B-Double, but this time I was ready and handled it like a pro. Well, not too bad, anyway.
Next stop, the Adelaide Hills, via McLaren Vale, and after a brief interlude at Hugh Hamilton's Black Sheep, and Coriole Winery, an old favourite of mine, we rolled into the camping area at Belair NP. With trusty "Sheila", our GPS politely telling us the way, we then drove the winding roads to my brother David's place in Stirling. A quiet dinner that night with Dave and his wife Sue was followed next day by Dave driving the four of us on a tour of the area, and then a lively dinner at their place with my niece, nephew, their partners and kids. A great night.
Now, Susie has had a yen for a while now to visit the Clare Valley, so that was our next destination. We drove into Clare, and the Info Centre was next door to the caravan park so we wandered in, and the lady asked, "Are you going to the blues concert tonight?" "Ah.., blues concert? Where?" "Right next door at Greg Cooley Wines, starts at 5, you can walk over if you're staying in the park." We looked at each other, "Sounds great, yeah we'll go!" 'Oh great, here's a free ticket Greg gave me." We drove next door to check into the park, and the lady asked were we going to the blues concert that night. Ah, yep, think we might. "Oh, good, here's a free ticket Greg gave me." Beauty!
So we carried our chairs and a picnic over to good old Greg's winery and were treated to some pretty good blues for 3 and a half hours. Headline act was Fiona Boyes. Bought one of her CDs.
Next day we did some riding on the local rail trail, visited some wineries, Sevenhill and Kilikanoon among them, and I gave my visa card a bit of a workout. Also visited Martindale House, an imposing English style manor house built by filthy rich squatters in the 1850s. The family went broke in a prolonged drought and had to sell it after only 10 years, but it's a window into a different life!
Back at the ranch we found the guys from "Love Your Sister" had moved in next to us. This is a guy named Sam who, supported by a team of mates, who has embarked on a mission to Uni-cycle around Australia to raise money for his terminally ill sister and others suffering from breast cancer. After a chat with the boys, and a promise to follow them at www.loveyoursister.org, we set about bbqing the lovely lump of eye fillet we had picked up earlier and sipping one of the local reds. We did eat well on this trip. No wonder Susie calls it Glamping!
We left Clare next morning enroute to somewhere east via Mildura, stopping at nearby Burra, an historic old mining town, for coffee. We'd only been driving an hour, but hell, one must have one's caffeine fix mustn't one? Across the road from our fix was a gigantic old bullock dray with an info board next to it. This thing was massive. It had been manufactured specifically to transport a monster pump from Adelaide to Burra during the mining boom of the mid 19th century. It took a team of 72 bullocks a couple of months to haul this thing a distance which now takes a few hours to drive!
So we left Burra having learned a little bit and satisfied the craving, and motored east across the Hay Plains. Flat. I remember my sister-in-law Sue asking me about 10 years ago when I had just driven Sydney to Adelaide, "What did you think of the Hay Plains?" "Loved it!" I said. "But it's so flat, and boring!" Actually, for me, the absolute flatness is the appeal, as well as that the Murray and Murrumbidgee Rivers both meander tortuously across this country. I guess my brother Dave and I are both peculiar, because he loves driving across them as well!
In late afternoon we rolled into Balranald.
We were thinking just one night in Balranald, and then a couple of nights somewhere near Bathurst to complete our little odyssey, but when we set up near the giant river red gums on the banks of the Murrumbidgee we both thought, yeah, this place is nice, let's stay here a couple of nights. On the way through town we had bought some lovely, fat lamb loin chops (quite partial to them!), and the butcher had suggested we go look at the old Yanga Station Homestead on the banks of Lake Yanga (dry in 2009, but now filled again by the flooding of the Murrumbidgee), so next morning we did just that.
Part of the original Yanga Station is now Yanga NP, and the original homestead, built in 1852, and the mammoth shearing sheds a few kms away, are preserved. The original station, owned by W. C. Wentworth - the same guy famous for crossing the Blue Mountains - explorer, politician, squatter, and somewhat shady wheeler-dealer, covered 300,000 acres and was at one time the largest property held under private title in Australia. Once again, a very knowledgeable local NPWS ranger took us on a tour of the homestead and it's outbuildings, and filled us in on the history of the place. Fascinating.
We had a late picnic lunch under the red gums at the old shearing sheds, and then headed back to our camp for a paddle on the Murrumbidgee. The river meanders all over the place, the water level was a tad low, it being late summer, and there was a lot of big fallen timber in the water, but there was always a way around, and we had a great 2 and a half hour paddle in the late afternoon on one of Australia's iconic rivers.
Next morning we were up reasonably early and away east again, travelling through ever greener and hilly country. Just before stopping for our last night in Blayney, we made a quick detour into the historic little town of Carcoar, which holds special memories for both of us.
Then, after a last night tucked up cosy in our mobile home, we headed off over the Blue Mountains to Collaroy and home.
We've decided we like our camper trailer, and will definitely keep it. Next trip will be a bigger one - the Kimberley, leaving early May.
