The rain had stopped by the time we reached Broken Hill. I'd only ever visited the place once before, a group of us flying in for a short stop and to refuel back in the mid nineties. I didn't really get into the city itself then, and was surprised to see a massive mullock heap virtually nestled right beside the main street. The city seems to have grown around the Line of Lode mine. It was a huge contrast to see the silver mine operating within a bull's roar of some stunningly beautiful historic old buildings.
We made our way to Broken Hill Regional Events Centre & Racecourse, a recommendation that came from Kaye, a solo traveler we had met a couple of days prior in the Underground Motel. It was a few kilometers from the town centre but offered huge grassy sites that backed onto the track railing and views over the rolling red hills rising out of the eastern horizon. $25 per night gave us power and water. We paid for two nights.
Broken Hill was declared Australia's first heritage-listed city in 2015. It was established by BHP in the late 1800's because of its deposits of silver, lead and zinc. Mining is still the main industry but a progressive, thriving art scene lead by Pro Hart (who earned a living as a miner before turning professional artist) now delivers over 30 galleries and open air sculptures. Visually it is an amazing city. Set amid rolling hills surrounded by flat, red plains that extend as far as the eye can see, it has wide streets, beautiful old architecture and, of course, the huge mountain of mine tailings that towers over the city centre. It was easy to fill our days taking everything in - art galleries, desert sculptures, Flying Doctor, the clubs, the views from atop the many lookouts, mines, the miner's memorial (which pays tribute to more than 800 lives lost due to mining) and drives in and around this iconic gateway to the outback.
Silverton, a 20 minute drive out of Broken Hill, is a well preserved historic old village, where silver was first discovered in 1883. It's a quirky place with a population of less than 60 that has been put on the global map not only because of its history and the fabulous country pub, but because of the movie and TV filming that has been done in and around the town. Mad Max 2, A Town Like Alice, Wake in Fright and Last Cab to Darwin to name a few as well as several commercials have been produced locally. There is also a fantastic historical museum that has been set up in the old jail, the Mad Max museum and a few art galleries.
I'd never heard of Copi Hollow until I got into conversation with Shell and Muzz, a couple of caravanners who camped beside us at Wilcannia. I mentioned I was planning to visit the (empty) Menindee Lakes, which prompted them to tell me that one of the lakes, Copi Hollow, still had water and was an amazing spot. And then a few days later when I met Kaye at White Cliffs, she also recommended it. Just 13 km out of the town of Menindee, it was less than 100 km east of Broken Hill.
We arrived late afternoon and set up on the grassed camping area beside the lake, which did indeed have plenty of water in it. We were the only ones there. The sign on the caretaker's window had instructed us to pick a spot and enjoy the space - they would come to us. Sure enough, a couple of hours later a tinny appeared from across the lake and pulled into shore in front of us. Drew and Amanda gave us a warm welcome as did their pup Orgi, and handed us a key to the facilities. As the sun went down I lit a fire and we kicked back and enjoyed the beautiful evening.
Brian had to head back to Yarrawonga on Friday. I decided I would spend a day or two longer given it was such a lovely spot, James was in doggy heaven, Drew and Amanda were fabulous hosts and it was pizza night on Friday. Brian might have to miss out but not me! We paid for 4 nights ($30/night with power). That would allow two full days to explore the Menindee Lakes area in the BT before Brian left.
Menindee Lakes had been on my bucket list since day one. When the lakes and the Darling river have water in them it's apparently one of the most picturesque areas in the Outback. Sadly drought and water mismanagement mean they are all empty (bar Copi which is man made). Nevertheless, there is plenty to see. Kinchega National Park is on Menindee's doorstep and aside from driving the tracks following the banks of the Darling, it also has a rich pastoral history.
The Old Kinchega Homestead and the Woolshed where six million sheep were shorn over the course of 97 years is a highlight. There's little left of the homesteads 1870's structure, but the woolshed, built in 1875, stands pretty much as it did decades ago when operations ceased. It's amazing.
There are many, many truly beautiful free camping options in and around the Darling and the lakes. Huge Red Gums provide heaps of shade along the river and toilet blocks are dotted through the camp areas. Even in the dry, the wildlife is plentiful, particularly the emu's that are clearly breeding well (we saw a family with half a dozen or so chicks). If the Darling ever flows again and when the lakes do fill up I will definitely be back to experience this amazing environment in a different phase.
By Thursday night Copi was much busier. Around us were several other caravans so I took my fire pit over to the camp kitchen, lit a big fire with the wood Brian and I had gathered that day and invited the others to join us. It was handy to talk to the other travelers, particularly given Brian was planning to travel on 100 km of dirt road that had just been reopened after heavy rain, and a couple of them had come in from that direction. Apparently it had some rough sections but was definitely drivable. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly friendships are forged in this nomad world. Maybe because we can't connect with friends and family as we do at home we reach out and open up to others who are sharing many of the same adventures and experiences. Once again it was sad to see Brian go, and it was a relief to get his calls to say he had made it safely to the bitumen and later in the day, home to Yarrawonga.
Friday it literally blew a gale, the gusts at times reaching 70 kph. That, of course, meant dust storms. Drew dropped by to let me know the pizza night was off because of the wind. Two blokes who arrived earlier in the day and put their van beside mine popped over to say gidday, having, I suspect, eyed off my woodpile. "Are you going to have a fire"? Well, while it was still blowing and bloody cold, my pyromaniac tendencies require very little encouragement. I did opt for the half 44 gallon drum at the site instead of my shallow fire dish hoping for some protection from the wind. There was, I'm delighted to say, some reciprocation. First, seeing me crawl under my van in an attempt to locate the non-return valve which had failed and meant l couldn't take in water from the tap, they took over and found it. Not that they could fix it, but at least I know how to get to it. Second, they shared their huge rib eye fillets with me, even cooking my dinner. Yay! There ended up being five of us around the fire after dinner. Most enjoyable.
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