JAMIESON

I arrived at Jamieson late Sunday afternoon and checked into the caravan park where Karen had booked. She'd prepaid for ten nights many months before and invited me to join her, opting for five nights for two sites instead. I hadn't seen Karen since our seven weeks rolling together which ended at Yeppoon early in September, so was looking forward to resuming our traveling companionship. James was equally keen to see his sweetheart, Ellie. Karen had already parked on one of the two adjacent sites we had been allocated, so after lots of hugs and pats we considered the best way for me to back my van onto the site.

The park was old, quite small and full of very run-down on site vans interspersed with shallow sites for casual visitors like us. The roads in the park were really narrow and it was going to be rather difficult to reverse the van into position. Karen gave guidance and I made several attempts, eventually thinking I had nailed it. Just at the last moment, however, l clipped the protruding ball coupling of the onsite van directly opposite. I got out to have a look and shit, shit, shit - it had stoved in the front corner of the car and half ripped off the mudguard section. I was sooo pissed off with myself! I was then caught between a rock and a hard place. Regardless of whether I went forward or back I could only do way more damage. Fortunately a couple of young guys saw it happen and came to help. First off they disconnected the van and with the help of the park owner who had arrived on scene, managed to push two and a half tonne of van backwards into position on the site. Next, one of the boys gave clear instructions on how to reverse the Jeep and I was able to do so without worsening the damage. Then he pulled off part of the mudguard trim, put his fist behind the plastic panel and pushed out the big indentation. He then clicked the panel back onto where it had ripped off, massaged it all a bit and reattached the guard trim. It looked 200% better instantly. Woohoo! As it turned out he was a panel beater. How lucky for me! By the time I had set up I was well and truly ready for a drink, so Karen and Ellie, James and myself walked the hundred odd meters up the road to the pub.

Jamieson is a really popular tourist destination. It's a pretty, historic little town on the beautiful Jamieson river with a great coffe shop/restaurant and a pub. It's near Eildon Weir in north central Victoria, close to the ski fields of Mount Buller and 35 km from the larger township of Mansfield, where my sister lives. Given I'd been on the road for seven months, I was keen to catch up, so drove into Mansfield Monday and had a lovely reunion with sister Jenni, niece Elise and grand nephews Hamish and Owen. While I was away Karen moved camp. A spot had come up right on the river so she snaffled it up. That worked out really well as it had a pergola overlooking the river and a great fire pit, so we had our own private area to kick back in. It was well into the 30's Monday so when I got back from Mansfield we all had a splash in the river. James especially loved it! 

Over the following few days we did a bit of sightseeing. I wanted to check out some of the many free camps upstream, so we took the Woods Point road out of Jamieson stopping at sites along the way before having lunch at the Kevington pub. From there we continued on past the A1Gold Mine to Woods Point. The puppies settled comfortably into sharing the back seat and were very chilled, even though it was a sometimes bumpy and windy five hour drive.

Delatite Winery was half an hour back towards Mansfield. Karen and I paid a visit to do a tasting (18 wines!) one of the days, and when we saw an amazing grazing platter delivered to a table we stayed for lunch, ordering the same for ourselves.

Thursday we played 18 holes of golf at Mansfield. The course was in excellent condition and the weather was perfect. To top that off we both played ok. Later that day we fitted in a visit to the Jamieson Brewery. It's a tough life!

Most evenings we had a fire and every day we did a couple of strolls along the river and around town. There are some beautiful gardens and very old cottages in Jamieson. The birds and wildlife there were amazing too. You could see the fish swimming in the crystal clear river. Lots of cicadas had emerged from the ground in their ugly dark armory and displayed their fine new wings which were so beautiful.  We met up with another woman at the park who was traveling solo. Suzanne had been on the road for ten years and was still loving it. We spent a bit of time socializing with her. 

Karen had to get back to Melbourne but l opted for an extra night paying $23 for my powered site. After coffee and cake at the local cafe on Friday morning Karen left. We did make a plan however to catch up on the Murray river at the end of December, do New Years Eve at Yarrawonga, play some more golf and catch up with my friends.

WAIKERIE, LOXTON, ROBINVALE & WHARPARILLA

I would have left Swan Reach Sunday but the wind was fucking horrendous and it was easier to stay put. A couple with a caravan came and parked beside me during the day and James just had to go over and say g'day. That got a conversation going which led to me having drinks in the pub over the river with them (Sue and Rob) late afternoon. That was excellent for a couple of reasons a) because I had interesting company that actually conversed and b) because they were on their way back from WA and could fill me in on the best things to do. Now I can't wait to do the Horizontal Falls!

Despite the persistent wind Monday I headed north on a gravel road that ran pretty much along the Murray all the way to Morgan where I stopped so we could have a wander (along with a normal poo for James, thank goodness after his upset system). From there we followed the river east (upstream) to Waikerie where I went straight to the spot I'd picked on WikiCamps, Holder Bend Reserve.

I spent two nights at Waikerie mostly because I really wanted to do some tyre swapping and there was a tyre place, but also because it was lovely camp down beside the river for free (yet again) and it was a pretty place. It even had silo art. There was one drawback, however. The Sturt Highway ran along the top of a cliff above the camp. It was sooo bloody noisy at times with trucks at night! Such a shame. I did go to the local Tyrepower but after a fair bit of tooing and froing about whether it was legal to have two different tyre brands and tread patterns on the one axle (which I didn't after my flat at the Flinders Ranges), we agreed that given it was the rear and all the numbers were the same (265 60/R 18), I would have to be bloody unlucky to get pinged by the cops on what's a bit of a technicality. The second hand All Terrain tyre that replaced my stuffed road tyre was noisy, but l could suffer through that till both rears wore out a bit then buy a good new pair.

HOLDER BEND gets a 3.5 from me. The Murray is beautiful as always. There are no facilities and there's not a huge amount of flat ground along the river. It has phone reception and is close to town but gets quite a lot of road noise.

Next morning l continued to follow the Murray, this time as it wended south through to Loxton. There were great reviews for Thiele's Sand bar. I wasn't disappointed. What a beautiful place. I pulled up on flat ground looking out over a beach which James absolutely loved. First thing I did was ring the local chiropractor as my back had started to spasm when I got out of bed, then driving really aggravated it. I could hardly bloody walk. Luckily there had been a cancellation at 2.30 so I was slotted in. Needless to say that meant unhitching, winding down stabilizers etc which quite literally added more insult to my injury. The young sexy doc was very good. He did quite a bit of work on various parts of my back and I walked out in less discomfort. I spent most of the remainder of the day walking up and down the beach in my bathers, keeping moving, improving my suntan and throwing sticks in the water for James. He had a ball. A lovely fire capped off the day and I went to bed pretty much pain free. I was a bit sore when I got out of bed next day but a long walk on the tracks through the bush on the banks of the river loosened me up. Once again though I had to keep moving most of the day. Sitting really aggravated it.

THIELE'S SANDBAR gets a 4.5. It's a beautiful spot beside the river though the landscape leading into it is ugly. The area is large and flat, there are sandy beach areas and swimmable water with a sandy bottom. It has rubbish bins, is close to town and has good TV and phone reception.

I was surprised there were no other campers at Thiele's. I reckon it's among the best locations I've ever seen on the Murray. It's flat, roomy, the river is wide and shallow for a long way out and it's so quiet, unlike Holder Bend. It would be perfect for kids. Late in the afternoon when I was having a nanna nap l heard a bloke speak to James. I went out and we got talking. "You've pinched my spot. I always stay right there." He was friendly enough and given his van was quite big I assumed he was with his wife. "There's still plenty of room", I said, so he went back and moved his van over. As it turned out Bill was solo with a fur baby named Winnie the Pooh. He was a country bloke, probably in his 50's, could talk the leg off a table and loved a beer. It wasn't long before he told me he had met several solo women during his four years on the road, a couple of whom he had a friends with benefits arrangement with. He was not at all sleazy and quite upfront in offering his services to me. I thanked him for his generous and selfless offer and explained that given I was quite practised and adept at the art of self gratification I would not require his services. We shared a great evening by the fire along with some delicious Murray Cod that he had caught and, some bloody funny conversations. He was great company, genuine and open, and I felt safe and comfortable around him.

After a coffee next morning the four of us went for a walk. Winnie and James had clicked and bounded ahead together happily. Bill is pretty tall and with his long legs set a cracking pace that almost had me jogging to keep up. We followed the dirt tracks running through the bush beside the river for a good hour chatting constantly. I had to admire Bill. He was in a workplace accident four years earlier that had resulted in multiple fractures in his skull, spine, ribs and legs and put an end to his construction business. Fortunately he had work cover insurance so had gone into semi retirement, traveling and picking up a few hours work here and there when his health would allow. He talked about the mental battle he'd gone through and about day to day pain management. He wore morphine patches that he replaced every five days. He really worked on staying active and positive. He was quite an inspiration. When we got back to camp Bill packed up and after a warm hug, left for Adelaide. I hope l could be as strong and independent as Bill if shit happened to me.

I was leaving that day too, bound for Jamieson in Victoria. My Roller friend Karen had won an auction that gave her ten nights at the caravan park there. She had the option to take two sites for five nights instead, so invited me to join her. Given I was heading back to Daylesford for Christmas with my family, the timing was perfect. We were booked in from Sunday till Friday. Jamieson was close to 800 km from Loxton, so I allowed three days travel.

My first night stopover was an old favorite, just south of Robinvale on the river. It held clear memories for me. Several years earlier Brian and I were camping there when, in the middle of the night, the heavens opened and it poured and poured, non-stop. In the morning we figured we should leave, but when Brian tried to drive the car he had absolutely no control over it as it slid over the mud. Well, the rain persisted for days and Brian ran out of beer. Now we really had an emergency on our hands! We waded out through the mud and hiked into town, got supplies, taxied back as far as the cabby would take us, then hunkered down to wait till the track dried out a bit. A couple of days later we managed to get the car out and drive into town where a bloke at the local servo rang a farmer not far from our camp. He very kindly met us at the start of the track with his huge tractor and literally dragged the caravan to firm ground. It was actually pretty harrowing to watch. I really thought the van would roll. This time, however, l checked the forecast and the weather was clear, warm and sunny. James and I have lovely overnighter.

ROBINVALE scores a 4. I love it. The bush walks are amazing. There are no facilities but there are lots of different little spots to prop beside the river. It has phone and TV reception.

Saturday night was not so lovely, though the location at Casey Bend near Wharparilla was, like most spots on the Murray, just gorgeous. It was not a big area for camping purposes, but my van was the only one there so it didn't matter. I lit a fire and settled in for the evening. A short time later five utes arrived full of young blokes, they set up camp and the loud music started. Bloody hell! I eventually went to bed and managed to get to sleep but was woken up twice by yahoo's tearing along the tracks with motors revving and lots of shouting and laughing. Don't think I'll bother coming back to Casey Bend again - at least not on a Saturday night! I must clarify, however, that l didn't feel personally at risk. The young fellows had been very friendly, and the hoons in cars were just local dickheads doing probably what they do every Saturday night.

WHARPARILLA (CASEY BEND) I rate a 2. Don't bother by the river but there is an area before the river that has a toilet and would be ok for an overnighter. It has phone reception.

One of the things that amazes me most about traveling solo is that bullshit is pretty much redundant. You become more aware of what matters and what doesn't. It's ok to wear undies for a couple of days when clean stocks get low and sheets can last a good 3 to 4 weeks before a wash. You eat the food on board even if it's the same as you had the last 4 nights. You shower every second or third day to save water.... baby wipes do wonders. The car stays dirty cos as soon as you clean it, it will get dirty again. When you meet people you make the effort to connect. That's the best. You might only have a few hours to spend so there's almost no small talk....It's travel experiences, sharing of personal information about background, family, plans and regrets (my friend Dot would say I overshare) and I often feel l have made a friend in a very short time. Appearances don't matter, just words and actions do. And I think, even from a distance,  you get a sense of who is ok and who isn't. And that applies to places too. It is so much about living in the moment and just relaxing with that concept and trusting the world and the people around you. 99.9% of it is good. I think the greatest risk to my safety is the road, and I drive with absolute diligence. That really matters. And James is always harnessed in!

YORKE PENINSULA & SWAN REACH

It was the calm before the storm Monday morning, one hell of a gale from the southwest forecast to hit late afternoon. I was really exposed at The Gap, but looking at a map of the Yorke Peninsula which is shaped like a boot, I would most likely be more sheltered down by the ankle joint. There were a couple of permit camping areas west of Point Turton, and as I had only used three of the seven nights I'd paid for, I decided to head in that direction. It wasn't very far (nothing is on the Yorke Peninsula), so I took my time packing up then stopped at the Maitland showground en-route to empty the dunny and top up the water tanks.

With plenty of time up my sleeve I made a detour from track to have a look at another of the permit areas half way down the shin of the peninsula. Wauraltee Beach was ten kilometers off the Spencer Highway on which I was traveling and the dirt road in was in pretty good nick. The beach itself was beautiful and there was a great site looking down over it. I was really tempted to stay, but about ten minutes after I arrived a massive gust of wind hit and not only did the van rock violently, but everything, including James and myself got blasted with sand. Staying was not a good idea.

We continued on past Hardwick Bay and Point Turton arriving at the first of my two options, Len Barker Reserve, where I got out of the car and had a look at the sites. There was no beach, just rocks, and it didn't appeal. Another five minutes down the road the sign to Burners Beach directed us to descend a relatively steep track to beach level. I followed the track at the bottom of the hill around the coast a bit further before getting to one of the two camping areas. It was at the start of long, sweeping, sandy beach, was quite sheltered and there was one other group of campers in. I backed up to the fence so the rear window of the caravan gave me a view out over the bay. Perfect!

BURNERS BEACH is accessed via 13 km of relatively rutted road from Point Turton. The long, sweeping stretch of beach is beautiful and great for swimming, fishing and walking. There are two camp areas - one to the right as you come down the access track and the other a kilometer or so around the bottom of the bluff. I stayed there. It was ok. A couple of toilets and rubbish bins but only some sites would have water views. I rate it a 4.

I unhitched the van as my plan was to stay at least a couple of nights and do some sightseeing of the southern part of the peninsula in the Jeep, particularly given most of the roads were dirt. I figured I'd do a recce of the permit camping areas further along the coast as well before moving the van to the next spot. As I set up camp a lovely gentleman wandered over from the other group, introduced himself as Rob, and invited me over for drinks a little later. Sounded good to me. James and I had a nice long walk on the beach before I poured a wine and we paid our neighbors a visit.

Rob and his three mates Bob, Gerry and Gary, all in their seventies, had been coming to the same spot every year for over fifty years. It started out with ten of them and now it was down to four. They had all gone to school together and were clearly having a ball, enjoying a few drinks and taking the mickey out of each other. They were good fun and both James and I felt very comfortable in their company.

First thing next morning James and I did a really long walk on the beach. It was beautiful. Then we jumped into the car and continued the treck along the coastline visiting the Corny Point lighthouse, Point Annie and Gleesons Landing, where I recognised a van and car. I pulled up beside them and out came Nahan, a Roller who I'd met by chance several weeks earlier on the river at Brewarrina. Amazing! She made me a cuppa and we filled each other in on our travels.

From there I got off the corrugations, picking up the sealed Marion Bay rd. The tiny town of Marion Bay is located towards the southwest corner of the peninsula, so is on the sole of the boot. I then headed east along the coastline stopping at a couple of lookouts from which you can see across to Kangaroo island, a distance of around 45 km. It was early afternoon by then and not only was I starving, but l needed to get online as I had no mobile reception at Burners Beach. I had passed a pub on the top of the hill at Point Turton on my way in the day before and decided to make a beeline for it and grab lunch while I used the internet. When I arrived at Tavern on Turton it was getting on for 3pm and the kitchen had closed. Bugger! But the chef who was sitting in a corner on his break came to the rescue rustling me up a prawn salad - and man was it delicious!

With my seven day camping pass dwindling I decided it was time to do the east coast of the peninsula which looked out over St Vincent Gulf towards Adelaide. Next day I crossed the Yorke from west to east passing through the area ravaged by bushfire a week earlier. It was sad to see the blackened fields and gutted homesteads as I traveled through Warooka, Yorketown and Edithburgh on the way to Wattle Point. I was amazed to find I was heading towards a massive wind farm as I approached the camping area and when l got there it was indeed surrounded by huge wind mills. One other van was parked so I took up a spot on the opposite side of the area. After a few minutes l did a double take of the other caravan and realised it belonged to Nahan. Bugger me...what a coincidence! Her car pulled in a while later followed by a motorhome. It was another Roller, Jenice. It seems the opportunities to randomly connect while on the road are endless.

WATTLE POINT camp area is quite small, has no water views and the wind generators tower overhead making a kind of whooshing noise. There are no facilities bar a table under a shelter. It's ok. 3 rating.

I moved up the eastern seaboard next day to my last permit site, Parara, just south of Ardrossan. Like many of the coastal towns on Yorke Peninsula it has massive silos and a jetty to ship the wheat grain by sea to who knows where. Parara is the site of a sperm whale beaching in 2014. Eight whales, all around ten meters long, died. There is a monument to the them on the Parara foreshore.

PARARA is an open space beside an ordinary beach that has a good view of the silos and port. At low tide you can walk a long way to the water and rake for Swimmer Crabs. It has a drop dunny. Rating 3

After I backed the caravan up to the beach beside a couple of other vans, James got out of the car and started throwing up. He was clearly not well. The whole afternoon and evening he was really uncomfortable and unsettled and was not interested in dinner. I would keep a close eye on him. The couple in the next van were friendly and invited me to share their fire that night. Excellent - I wouldn't have to use my wood! We had a great night chatting in front of a much needed big, warm fire though it was ages before James settled in his chair. He was so restless. It was after 11 pm when I left the fire and James seemed brighter so I offered him some food, which he ate. I felt much happier.

The winds while I had been on the Yorke Peninsula had been pretty ferocious, and with temperatures forecast to drop over the coming days I decided to head east and away from the sea to pick up the magic Murray River. Surely further from the coast it would be warmer and less windy. The area around the top of The Gulf of St Vincent is bland but heading east after that took me into rolling hills that moved from golden wheatfields to the lush green vineyards of the Barossa Valley. The trip across to Swan Reach which was the point at which I planned to pick up the Murray was mostly on minor roads. I was excited that Mallala was one of the small towns on my track. As a car racing buff l had heard of the Mallala circuit and I couldn't pass up the chance to pay a visit, even though it was a little out of my way. Maybe I could do a drive around the track! The gates were open when I arrived so I went in, but l chickened out once l realised there were a lots of cars and activity happening. I did get a photo though.

After an unintended tour of the lovely town of Nuriootpa due to road works (a bit squeezy on the main drag navigating workers, machinery and traffic with the caravan in tow), I stopped to shop. The very modern and upmarket Barossa Co-op at Nuriootpa is amazing. It's by far the best supermarket I have ever seen. Great specialty sections, a cafe, fantastic produce and all presented really well. It was one of the few times I enjoyed shopping! Before we hit the road again l  took James for a walk. He seemed ok and was happy to share a cold sausage for lunch, but when he pood it was squirtybum and there was a fair bit of blood. Mmm, that's a worry.

We arrived at Tenby Hunter Reserve free camp late in the afternoon. There was space to pull up on level ground and stay hitched overlooking the river, even though there were quite a few other campers in. I just love the Murray. I feel so completely peaceful and at home when I'm camped on its banks. The reserve is co-located with a cable ferry which is very handy given the pub is on the other side of the river. It was still blowing a gale and quite chilly, so after feeding and walking James (who still had runnybum but less blood) I tucked up in the comfort of the van for a night of music and knitting. James had an absolutely shitfull night (literally) needing to go outside multiple times. Surprisingly though he was quite perky come morning.

TENBY HUNTER RESERVE is right on the banks of the Murray but access to the water is not good. It's more of a stopover than a destination, with limited space, a toilet, dump point and rubbish bins. 3.5 for me.

The weather had not improved. It was cool, winds in excess of 40 kmph and occasional showers. That was expected to be the pattern for a few days, so it didn't really matter where I propped - we would be pretty much confined to the van. The upside of staying at Swan Reach, aside from the views of the river, was the pub. James and I took the ferry over around lunchtime Saturday while there was still a bit of sun and we sat out on the balcony overlooking the Murray sipping, of course, bubbles. It was very pleasant.