Well got to almost 6-oh before attending a music festival and so glad this was on my bucket list.  No internet or phone at Mundi Mundi so no real time blog posts possible. I’ll try to capture  the essence…here goes…

Roll in… joined the long convoy out of BH to the bash. CB radio was buzzing with excitement. Took about 2 hours to do the 20 k into the Mundi Mundi  Station ((most on the last 1k). 

Our site-  we were allocated a great site, right on a pathway to the main action which meant it was near impossible to get lost (phew) but also a bit like a fish bowl to the passing foot traffic, most of whom stopped for a chat or to comment on what we were cooking. Definitely can’t step out in our undies to make morning coffee (of course I do that all the time- not!). But provided us with  great entertainment in the late evening as the lost souls go by again….and again… looking for their sites in the dark.

The people– the general demographic is a mix of people our age or olderr and young families- kids everywhere on bikes – total absence of teens who either don’t want be seen dead with all these oldies or can’t miss school. Everyone extremely chatty- feels a bit like old home week.

Cowboy hats, flannel shirts and bluestones are mandatory  attire regardless of gender (I tick 2 of the three two boxes).

The food– we had the best intentions to cook each night, and did a couple, but with main gig between 4 & 8.30 this made firing up the camp stove difficult. Food vans were way better than expected great (almost) healthy options and GF- all hallaciously  expensive but hey- we’re in the outback.

The facilities– hmmm what can I say here- no running water & composting/long drop style toilets- I’ll leave the rest to the imagination but let’s just say I learned very quickly not to look back as some things just can’t be unseen! Dettol wipes were our friend! And apart from a brief few minutes where I found myself locked in a less than sanitary cubicle (thank heavens there were people outside to wrench the lock open)- all pretty straight forward although definitely not the highlight of the experience.

Music- sensational from start to finish- from the back ups through to the main draws- there’s something about watching live music under the outback sky- even if it does leave you coated in red dust!

Our particular favourites were Casey Chambers and Jon Stevens. The Ouls were- well, The Oils and in a particularly political form as you no doubt heard in the news. Jimmy Barnes made our ears bleed and of course Bjorn Again released my inner Abba. By the end of each day we literally fell into bed exhausted. Most mornings woke up to ice on the tent.

Roll out looked like it was going to be uneventful until we tried to turn over the engine and found our battery was dead flat- but hey, you’re never short of solutions when you’re around serious 4WD’ers. Went over to the camp site  with the  the biggest 4WD we could see and before we could say ‘Jack Robinson’ they were at our site jumper leads in hand.  

Took about an hour to get off the station and on the road to start the long journey home- can’t believe our holiday is coming to an end.

Spending the night in  Curlwaa- a small town on the Murray that happens to have a little caravan park with hot showers and flushing toilets!  Bliss!

Would we go again- definitely!

The trip from Orroroo to Broken Hill was long (just over 300k), flat and pretty much uninterrupted desert views. A couple of tiny towns along the way – and we stopped in one (Olay) for a tostie at the pub – but really an excuse to use the facilities(along with nearly every other caravan/camper making the trek) . The publican told us he bought the pub 6 months ago which had closed 6 years earlier. I’d say it is pretty much as it was when he bought it but he said he has been flat out since he opened feeding and watering the passing travellers. We passed loads of roadworks en route- they’re widening the road to accomodate road trains- so the next journey may not be so pleasant.

We arrived in BH just after 1pm but took almost an hour to get into the camp ground with the general mayhem of mass arrivals. Volunteers are working overtime to keep things on track (I suspect the whole town is involved). We are finally settled at pre- bash camping at the Broken Hill race course. Nestled on the grass under the shelter of the heritage (and soon to be renovated) grand stand we are a little away from the masses in caravans but close enough to hear the buzz. A climb to the top of the stand gave an indication of how many will be in the early-entry convoy tomorrow. We have done the absolute minimum unpack- just opened up enough to get in to the bed, hoping to make it a speedy getaway in the morning. 

Have done a once around the town and clearly this is somewhere we need to come back to with dedicated time – there is so much history and loads of art galleries – including the Pro Hart gallery- none of which are open today (Monday), so they’ll have to either be at the end or next time.  Did buy myself two western shirts from a shop called Sitting Bull- great fabrics that hopefully I’ll still want to wear at home but I’ll definitely look the part as I boot scoot my way through the next couple of days.

The Street names in BH get this old chemist’s juices flowing as we gradually weave our way around the periodic  table – silver, sulphide, chloride, bromide and so forth.

Now sitting in the dark outside our tent listening to two competing playlists from neighbouring vans that somehow don’t seem to clash., and a teenage girl sitting in the grandstand talking to her mates on her mobile (I’m learning lots).  Might need the ear plugs tonight.

 I internet from here on in – so it will be a case of what happens at Broken Hill stays at Broken Hill.

Saturday

After a heavy nights rain we awoke to clearer skies so set off determined to make  the most of our last day at Wilpena. 

Started with the Arkaroo rock walk. This relatively short walk was nonetheless a test for the lungs (going up)and the legs (coming down)- was glad to have the ankle brace in place as we negotiated the loose rock surfaces on the way down.

Arkaroo rock, or Akurra Adnya is an aboriginal rock shelter containing ochre and charcoal drawings- amazingly preserved – a bit of an indictment on humans that they need to be kept behind bars but a privilege to be able to visit this important site.

After the long scramble down we did the Bunyeroo Gorge scenic drive on the way back. 

 Cooked a sensational (if I may say so myself) chicken risotto on the camp oven last night- or perhaps it just tasted delicious because we were starving.  

Was a gorgeous calm and clear evening  and perfect for a campfire and star gazing.

Sunday

Woke up/packed up before the sun showed her face and started the journey over to Broken Hill. 

At every stop we’ve run into ‘Bashers’ en route (shoot me if I ever use the term to describe myself!). Now feeling a mixture of excitement and trepidation of what’s to come never having been to one of these events.

We’ve stooped for the night in a little caravan park in Orroroo – a gorgeous and thriving little town full of sandstone cottages about 300k west of Broken Hill. It’s our  last chance to stock up with food before BH. We’ve been careful not to buy any fruit mind you, in anticipation of the full body search that our number plate will invoke as we exit SA.

And now- confession…….. with a healthy slice of of guilt we’ve booked into a cabin – albeit very rudimentary!  Decided we needed a good shower and to reorganise the car/gear etc before heading into 5 days without showers, heaters or creature comforts. A cop out I know- now looking at the 12inch TV wondering whether to turn on the news or not….

Woke up to a very different view this morning, wind had subsided but light rain had set in enveloping the ranges in thick cloud.

We set off for Wilpena Pound determined to still do our walk – or at least one of us (DB) was. But by the time we got there the mist had turned to solid rain and the visitor info centre were advising people not to walk as paths were too slippery. ….. bummer…

So headed off on a drive instead.

Drove north back up towards Blinman again but  this time on the other side of the ranges (last time we’d cut across through one of the gorges). While it was tarmac all the way already water was starting to accumulate in the dips in the road- we could see how flash flooding could sneak up quickly in this area. Driving past the entrance to the road to Arkaroola we saw some of the roads were showing ‘closed’ signs- so good decision to leave early the other day (mind you I can think of worse places to be stuck)!

Resisted the call of the Blinman pie shop for lunch and instead opted for the pub  this time. Very quirky quintessential outback pub- old,  rusty roofed, and like a rabbit warren inside and relying totally on alcohol consumption for warmth- we kept our puffas on.  Food was hearty. I broke my ‘never eat seafood of you’re more than 200 k from the water’ rule and ordered the salt and pepper squid- which was yummy despite its 1000km journey o get to me. And it came with a lovely bowl of fresh salad- fresh greens aren’t easy to get up this way so nice to have the crunch

As we drove back the rain and cloud cleared as suddenly as it had come so we were able to navigate the tracks up to a couple of lookouts – it’s impossible to get sick of the views here.

And because today was more about the food than anything else we glammed up (which means damp cloth to the middy Blundstones, putting a scarf on top of my black merino undershirt and brushing my hair) and went to the woodshed for dinner. A beautiful fine dining restaurant (this one with roaring fires) set in the heart of the station we are staying on – I’ll spare you the blow by blow details of what we ate but let’s just say we will need to walk a few miles tomorrow. 

Drove the couple of k back to our tent at about 20k/hr with kangaroos zinging left and right- managed to avoid them all thankfully (we are meeting plenty of people who have been less lucky).

Now back in our tent- curled up in our warm bed listening to the rain teaming down once more but the locals assure us it will be clear tomorrow.

Spent the night feeling like we were in the bowels of a sailing ship- rocking side to side, canvas flapping and poles creaking. But woke up in one piece although a little sleep deprived (me). Of course David slept like a log as always oblivious to it all.

Short drive  only today from Hawker to Rawnsley Park Station. 

We are off grid  camping at Rawnsley and sites are beautifully secluded. While neighbours are probably about 30m away you have to look to find them.

Set up camp in gorgeous sunshine and howling gales- took a couple of times to get the direction right so we didn’t become airborne in the process.

We have absolutely million dollar views from our ‘front porch’, 

Too windy for a fire tonight but upside is that washing has dried in 3 minutes flat- although David’s jeans did do a turn around the neighbourhood. 

 David just dashed down to the little store before it closes to see if they sell guy ropes – thinking we may need some extra tonight. Meanwhile I’m brewing coffee and plotting out our walks for the morning.  It’s due to rain tomorrow but we’ve decided we’ll walk anyway- let’s see if our resolve holds in the face of reality!

Had intended to stay a third night at Arkaroola but awoke to dark clouds and rain warnings so had to leave with threat of roads becoming impassable – so we joined the line of campers leaving early.

We drove out via Leigh Creek. 200km of dirt road but well graded with literally tens of (for most part) dry creek crossings. The dry creek beds were awesome- lined with massive gums whose roots had been laid bare by erosion from flash flooding. The rain set in as we drove but luckily we got back to tarmac before the water started flowing.

Once back on tarmac we stopped at the Copley Quondong cafe to have one of their famed meat pies. While they did look impressive the weren’t quite up to the Blinman cafe pies which are best in district from our  POV  (and goodness knows we have tried a few!)

From Leigh Creek we headed south back to Hawker where will do a quick overnighted before heading up to Rawnsley Park Station for the next three nights. Arrived in Hawker with Dora, Subi and us looking like we had some dusty miles under our belt.

Staying at the Hawker Caravan Park to re-charge power and re-fill Walter tanks before heading back to bush camping.

In the interests of not unpacking anything and a speedy morning getaway we are now sitting in the Hawker pub an old Victorian pub  with real outback feel – back of toilet doors assured me “trust me you can dance with vodka” although I suspect if I had enough vodka to dance I may not be facing the toilet door! King sized steaks are ordered and a glass of red is in hand. The joint is jumping as it’s the only eatery  and watering hole open in town: