COWELL, PORT GIBBON, CLEVE, PETERBOROUGH, BROKEN HILL & WILCANNIA - COVID-19

Covid-19 (aka Corona Virus) now rules the world - for the time being at least. So much is changing so fast! Every day the global panic is accelerating and the Australian government has now placed certain bans on non-essential gatherings among other things. Countries across around the world are closing their borders and confining their citizens to their homes. Global share markets are crashing. The RBA have cut interest rates and economic stimulus/survival packages have been announced by leaders all round the world to try and prop up economies, businesses and individuals. It's all so surreal....and scary.

I'm thinking I'm in a better position than most. I operate pretty much solo anyway, so placing myself in virtual self isolation is relatively easy. I have stocked the van with non-perishable essentials, lots of dog food, enough toilet paper and sufficient cask wine. As I sit in my van on a beautiful, fairly remote beach on the Eyre Peninsula in South Australia, I feel safe.

When I left Whyalla l made sure to top up my fuel tank (95 litres), my water (200 litres) and my gas (18 kg). The beaches on the Eyre Peninsula are renown for their beauty, so I made my way south along the coast to check them out. Cowell, just 106 km down the Lincoln Highway was my first stop. Arriving early afternoon I pulled over to photograph the local silo art, then did a brief recce of the town in the car before settling into a posse at the local RV Park. I left the van hitched as I was only overnighting to sit out forecast gale force winds. I figured it would be more sheltered on Franklin Harbour, which is where Cowell is located, than right on the open beach front a little further south. There were quite a lot of vans already in the park - mostly fishermen as there were lots of tinnies too!

With antibiotics kicking in and James well on the way to recovery from his bout of gastro, we headed back into town on foot to explore more thoroughly. Not surprisingly we came across the pub. Ah well....guess we have to follow protocol!

The main street of the popular fishing village is rather pretty with magnificent old buildings dating back to the 1800's. At the end of the street is a long jetty and boat ramp that services the needs of the many keen fishermen who travel from far and wide. Apparently it's one of the best fishing and crabbing spots in SA.

The surrounding area, however, is pretty bland and flat, the RV Park included. The view across the stubbly, low vegetation to the bay was less than spectacular. And the March flies are the size of bombers!

By early evening the wind was howling so I hunkered down in the van and cooked myself a yummy dinner.

COWELL RV PARK doesn't offer much. There's space for maybe 30 vans closely spaced on flat gravel. The only amenities are a tap for drinking water, a fire pit, a book swap cabinet and an undercover seating area. You need to put $5 per day in an envelope in a box nearby. You wouldn't stay more than one night unless you fished. My rating - 2.5.

About 20km south of Cowell there are multiple small beachfront camps that can be accessed from a gravel track that runs along the coastline, ending at Port Gibbon. I drove slowly, checking out a couple of options before deciding on Port Gibbon Beach Camp 2. As the only camper there, l positioned the van in the best spot right on the edge of the beach. OMG - it was stunning! The views, the water, sand, sunshine and privacy were perfect. As soon as l was set up James and I hit the beach and had a swim. It was perfect!

Next afternoon we went exploring the tiny settlement of Port Gibbon and some of the nearby coastal attractions.

By late Tuesday, however, I was starting to realize there were imperfections in my utopia. Four in fact. Wind, flies, sandflies and March flies. Bugger! Late each day and sometimes night l thought the van was going to blow over, and going onto the beach was not an option due to the sandblasting effect. It was an ongoing job keeping surfaces inside the van free of airborne grit and there was no way I could be outside without a fly net. The attack from flies and March flies was relentless. But the real joy killer was that when I woke up Wednesday, I was going insane with dozens and dozens of midge bites on every piece of flesh, exposed or not!

My plan had been to continue south along the coastline slowly while I waited for Karen from Melbourne to join me. From the Eyre Peninsula we were heading to WA in convoy, with another Roller, Anna, coming along in her motorhome. Given, however, Karen wanted to meet at Port Lincoln just 145 km away and wasn't due to catch up with me for a week, l decided to head a little inland to the township of Cleve, not only to claim respite from the deadly four but also get to a chemist for some midge bite relief beyond a dab of boiling water on each bite.

By the time I had hooked up Wednesday afternoon in 40 degree heat, buzzing flies and a howling gale, I was possibly suffering from a bit of heat exhaustion and more than a little over it! My online research that morning had been somewhat disturbing. Covid-19 was starting to get VFR (very fucking real). There were rapidly increasing infection and death rates globally and in Australian resulting in even tougher restrictions on travel, panic buying from supermarkets (particularly toilet paper of all things!) and the likelihood of recession not far away. It was all starting to make me feel more than a tad uncomfortable about heading in the opposite direction to home by a further 2300 kilometers. I needed to do some thinking and perhaps 'phone a friend' or two to bounce some ideas around.

It was an easy drive to Cleve RV Park taking less than an hour. It's a typical little country town - friendly people, clean, all the services you need - and a pub! In normal circumstances I would have been in like Flynn, but the growing advice from health authorities to keep away from others, particularly for oldies like me, had me spooked. A trip to the chemist yielded a tube of cortisone cream which I slathered all over myself before settling down with a glass of wine in the van to explore my travel options.

CLEVE RV PARK scores a 4. It's right in town so has all the services as well as water hook up, toilets, showers and bins. Sites are flat offering shade and plenty of space. It's quiet. I didn't bother to tether James so he was very relaxed. I would happily stay there for a few days and explore the area. Cost is a $10 donation into the box on the amenities wall. 

By Thursday morning following updated Covid-19 advice along with multiple conversations with family and friends, I decided to do an about face. I came to the conclusion that my best option was to head northeast some 2200 km to Canungra in southern Queensland where my daughter lives on acreage. My rationale was that in the event of internal border closures l would be in a warm climate for the winter, still in my van with the option to travel around Queensland and, in worse case scenario, close to family in the event of a lockdown (as was happening globally), or illness.

So that morning I headed west, stopping at Kimba to get some more silo art photos before pulling into the Peterborough RV Park to overnight.

PETERBOROUGH RV PARK is a safe, quiet, flat, expansive, free overnighter. It's close to town so has mobile and TV reception. There is shade around the outside perimeter of the disused sports field. There are no amenities bar bins. I give it a 3.

I continued west Friday, crossing the border into NSW late afternoon and arriving at Broken Hill Racecourse RV Park around 5pm. I wanted to stay hitched and was fortunate enough to snag the last site, albeit unpowered and on dirt. Fine by me!

The sunrise next morning was stunning!

After a restless night (the norm for me since Pete's death a month before), filling up with diesel ($129.9  ltr - bargain), and a $120 grocery shop, it was 10.30 before I was heading along the flat, rather barren Barrier Hwy. With weariness kicking in some 230 km later when approaching Wilcannia, l decided to see if the caravan park by the Darling river held any appeal....and indeed it did! Wilcannia is not the nicest or safest place in the world (all the buildings are shuttered), but the tiny, basic park looked lovely after a recent drop of rain and there were several other vans already in, so it felt safe. I backed onto a site (quite expertly now I must say!) and had a relaxing glass of wine followed by a much needed nanna nap. Nice!

BACK ON THE ROAD - PORT PIRIE & WHYALLA

Leaving Fiona, Soph and Tom to adjust to the reality of life without their beautiful husband and father was really difficult. It had been only 18 days since his tragic death but it seemed much, much longer. Fiona needed to create the 'new normal'  for herself and the kids, and I felt that would be made even harder with me living with them. So Monday March 9,  after lots of hugs and tears, James and I left Seaford to travel the 998 km back to Port Pirie where I had stored the van.

I had pre booked a cabin at Lascelles south of Ouyen to overnight. It meant doing just over 400 km for the day - an easy country run through one of the silo art trails of northwest Victoria. On the way l stopped to get photos at Nullawil and Sea Lake.

We arrived at Wagon Inn Cabins around 4pm and promptly wandered across to the pub....as per my usual protocol.

The 600 km run the next day was fantastic. The first 150 km was on the Calder Highway with very little traffic before we cut across on a minor road at Red Cliffs just south of Mildura to pick up the Sturt Highway which was also quiet. After that the fantastic Goyder Highway took us through some stunning countryside and lovely country towns. With a big food shop enroute, it was a relatively easy trip that saw us arrive in Port Pirie around 6pm.

Plan A was to stay overnight at the caravan park and leave the following day, but when the fridge refused to fire up, which meant packing all my perishables with ice in eskies (35 degree day) and unexpected exhaustion sapping all my enthusiasm to sort out all the crap that had to be relocated from the car to the van, I opted for plan B. Amother night at PP! It turned out to be a good choice, not only giving me time to settle back into my (now strangely uncomfortable) solo existence, but allowing the opportunity to explore PP and get the fridge fixed! A big thankyou to Norm at Northern Caravan Service who showed me how to adjust the fridge igniter, re-rivetted my broken window hinges then told me how to catch Blue Swimmer crabs - bargain at $45!

I felt much more composed and ready to go by Thursday. After a leisurely morning we headed off following the Spencer Gulf northward to Port Augusta, then south down the western side of the Spencer to Whyalla. The Weeroona Bay Football Club charged just $5 per night for a site, so after a bit of sightseeing around the fairly industrial city, we parked up and settled in for the night.

Friday plan B had to preside once again. My A plan to head south on the Eyre Peninsula was thwarted when James spent the wee hours of the morning scratching to get out of the van multiple times to crap....and throw up.....shit!

By morning he had run out of poo and his straining efforts were delivering blood. Fuck me that was scarey....and on Friday 13th! I was on to the local vet first thing and I must say, she was great...and very thorough. Apparently he had haemorrhagic gasto. Five days of antibiotics and a diet of cooked chicken was the outcome. I was one very relieved mum! Given his favourite space is the car I took him for a drive to Iron Knob (he slept as usual) some 50km up the road. I must say it is not the prettiest place I have ever been to and, believe it or not, I just photographed the pub from the outside!

WEEROONA FOOTBALL CLUB gets a 3.5 from me. There are 15 sites on flat gravel beside the clubhouse and footy oval in one of Whyalla's suburbs. A lady comes and collects $5 per adult each day and is a wealth of information aside from being very friendly. The place was full on both nights I stayed, and Thursday the club opened at 5pm for dinner and drinks. There's a toilet, but not much else. The other campers were really friendly. It is right under the approach path to runway 17 at Whyalla airport and the RPT jets are quite low and loud as they pass overhead. As a pilot that ticked a box for me!

A SAD RETURN TO HOME

Wednesday 19th February whilst towing my van to Port Pirie I received the tragic news that my son in law had died a few hours earlier in an aviation accident back in Victoria.

A highly qualified and experienced pilot, Peter was conducting an IFR training flight with his student when their twin engine aircraft collided with another twin on a similar exercise over Mangalore Airport around 11.30am.

It was, quite simply, a freak accident that took the lives of four people and shattered the lives of countless others.

Next morning, having stowed the van at a Port Pirie caravan park, James and I headed back in the Jeep to Melbourne to be with my (Claytons) daughter Fiona and grandkids Sophie, 11 and Tom, 6.

My time here with Fiona and the kids is amazing and I am in awe of her strength. We talk a lot about the how's and what's of the future, the joys of the past and the challenges of everything including the next couple of weeks...and years. And we talk about the silver lining.

What stays in my mind is some words she said. "Pete has given me a gift. I just haven't worked out how to unwrap it yet"

So here we are for a bit.....but my travels will go on.

RIP PETE

AN ABSOLUTELY AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL, HUMBLE & LOVING HUMAN

WE WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU

RAPID BAY, SECOND VALLEY, NORMANVILLE, CAPE JERVIS, TINTINARA, COCKATOO LAKE & NARACOORTE CAVES

I definitely could have spent more time at Port Elliot but with less than a week before a planned rendezvous back around the Robe area with friends, Christine and Greg, I wanted to get in a few days on the western coastline of the Fleurieu Peninsula. I'd heard that Rapid Bay Campground some 14km north of Cape Jarvis was a top spot. With no real facilities there I stocked up on food, water and fuel and made sure I had an empty dunny. The drive across on Range Road through rolling hills and valleys was really enjoyable, and as picturesque as the rest of the Fleurieu. In less than an hour I arrived at the campground and scored myself a top spot backing onto the beach. I was pretty lucky as it was surprisingly busy for a working Monday.

It was warm afternoon and I couldn't wait to don togs and hit the beach. The bay, which is set between two bluffs with quite a long jetty at the southwestern end, is very pretty with safe, protected water. While walking on the beach a pod of seals appeared not far from shore and put on quite a show. I didn't have my phone to get a photo though....bugger!

Tuesday morning I awoke to cloud and wind, so decided to do a recce to the north. I headed up Main South Road dropping in to Second Valley first up. Like Rapid Bay it's a tiny little place with a few houses and a jetty. And a lovely beach - as expected.

Next stop, Wirrina Cove. That's a bit of a strange place. As you drive in there is signage that points you to the New Terry Hotel and Golf Resort, but it felt semi abandoned, as did most of the pretty flash houses and the marina a couple of kilometres further along the road. It was certainly not very busy and not particularly appealing. Maybe it's got a different aura when busy....

A memorial to the HMAS Hobart which was sunk in 2002 some 4km off Rapid Bay as a dive site is not far up the coast road. The ship's anchor is perched atop a hill overlooking the site. 

Normanville is a small beachside town a few k's further north. It's quite a pretty spot with a licensed cafe on the water by the jetty. The sand along that particular stretch of coastline is like talcum powder - incredibly soft, fine and white - unlike the Rapid Bay beach which is grey and stony. 

Wednesday was even cooler, windy and showery. A few breaks, however, did provide an opportunity to explore the northern end of the bay in front of the van, which, at low tide allows you to walk and wade around the rocks to a series of gorgeous little coves.

At the other end of the beach is the old dilapidated jetty that was constructed between 1938 and 1942 to ship limestone that was quarried in an open cut mine just above the jetty. BHP built and operated the works, including the adjacent township, until 1981 when it was sold to Adelaide Brighton Cement. The huge old jetty is no longer accessible but can be viewed from the new one alongside it.

Wednesday afternoon, in drizzle and fog, I made the 15 minute trip south to Cape Jervis. It's located on the southwestern tip of the Fleurieu Peninsula about 90km from Adelaide. The crappy weather didn't make for great sightseeing but my arrival was timed perfectly as the ferry to Kangaroo Island had just docked. There was quite a bit of activity as army personnel working on the fire recovery on KI unloaded and lots of cars and trucks drove aboard. I would love to have gone over for a few days but at nearly $500 return for me and the van it was beyond my budget. 

Thursday morning at Rapid Bay the weather was perfect.....warm, sunny and still. I considered staying another night but that would leave me with over 300km to drive Friday to meet up with Christine and Greg, much of it on windy, hilly roads which would be pretty slow in parts, so I decided to get going. After packing up the van l spent an hour or so on the beach walking James and enjoying the sunshine before hitting the road at 11.

RAPID BAY CAMPGROUND costs $9 per person per night. An onsite ranger comes around late each afternoon and collects the cash. It's a great place, though because it's very family friendly and just an hour from Adelaide it gets very busy. You can't book so need to turn up early. The bay it sits on is stunning, and the camp area expansive, flat and largely grassy with some shade. It has toilets, bins, playground and electric barbecues. I would definitely return but NOT during peak holiday periods. I rate it 4.5

Meeting up with Christine and Greg at Cockatoo Lake was actually backtracking, heading southeast towards the Victorian border, but I was really keen to explore the coastline between Robe and the Coorong. I'd heard it was beautiful. I took my time traveling minor roads to wend my way to Wellington, the lowest ferry crossing on the Murray river. It's only a couple of kilometres upstream of where the Murray runs into Lake Alexandrina. 

When I drove onto the ferry a big truck came on behind me. It was a very tight fit!

I had a few options for an overnighter before the Murray but I was enjoying the drive and the music so kept going, ending up at Tintinara. A Roller friend had stayed there a few weeks prior camped beside Lake Indewarra pretty much right in town and she loved it. Another van was in when I arrived and it wasn't long before my social butterfly associate James formed a connection for us ("James, go and say hello"). Coral and Brian were on their way back from Yarrawonga, of all places, and Coral was the sister of  golfing friend of mine....small world! After plenty of conversation, wine and dinner under the shelter that we had both our vans butted up to, James and I went for a stroll into town. And guess where we ended up? Yep....The pub, where James launched into action yet again allowing us to chat with locals. Nice work partner!

LAKE INDEWARRA scores a 3 from me. It's an overnighter, not a destination. The tiny lake is beside the railway line that runs beside the Dukes Highway. It's a short walk to the Tintinara shops and pub. There are electric barbecues and bins - no toilets at the lake itself. It's quite pretty and interestingly sits on a "Discgolf Park" which is a course on which a game is played according to golf rules but with a kind of frisbee thing. Weird! 

It was an easy run the next morning down to Cockatoo Lake although costly with a strong headwind punching my fuel consumption up to 19lt/100km (normally approx. 14.5). Greg and Christine were already setting up on the edge of the lake. It was lovely to see them and their boy Chilli. I pulled up alongside. Later in the afternoon Greg went for a walk around the lake and on his return announced that we hadn't picked the best spot. Well, we all agreed second best was not good enough, so pulled up stakes and relocated to the other side. It was much prettier! Before dinner Greg waded out into the shallow lake to set a couple of pots. A feed of yabbies would be a real treat.

The plan was to stay two nights, but with a chilly, howling gale through the night and into the next morning we all felt we might as well keep moving. Greg pulled in the nets before we left. We did have yabbies - yay! One was a big bugger too! The down side was the count - only 4 - not enough for a feed, so they lived to see another day. 

COCKATOO LAKE gets a 4. It could well be a spot to stay for several days, especially when the lake is fuller than it is currently. It's several km from the Riddoch Way in the Padthaway Wine Region, so would be perfect for those doing winery tours. You can fish and use the lake recreationally, and have fires in the cooler weather. There are lots of spots dotted around the lake, or a small, main camp area that has toilets. I liked it.

We decided to head across to the coast, despite the wind and overcast skies. Given we were going via Naracoorte, a visit to the Naracoorte Caves seemed a great option - and it was. Our one hour guided tour ($27.50 each) was bloody good value and very interesting. Like the Jenolan Caves that l had done early in my travels, there were multiple tours to take through different caves. Because we arrived in the afternoon and hadn't pre booked, the only tour available was the Victoria Fossils Cave which included an educational presentation by the guide in an underground amphitheatre. We all enjoyed it.

It was close to 4pm by the time we got on the road again, bound for Kingston SE RV Park. It was a popular 48 hour beachside stopover, costing only $10 for two nights. We were hoping there'd be space for us given our late arrival. And yes..there was.