The South Pole 6/1/25 The South Pole 6/1/25

Aotearoa - Te Waipounamu

9 beauty-packed days on New Zealand’s South Island.

It took me almost 8 years of living in Australia to finally take the short flight to our funny-talking southeastern neighbours. And it was 8 years too long. New Zealand’s South Island is absolutely stunning. I’ve never seen a place so packed with natural beauty and I’ve been craving to return ever since.

Getting there

I lucked into getting a few weeks off between jobs and decided “what better time than now”. Did some brief planning - mostly just a few particular spots that I really wanted to see, bugged my mate Will for some hike recommendations (they call it “tramping” in NZ), booked the flights, a car and some of the stays to allow some flexibility. The flexibility would come in handy later as the weather in the South Island can be rather erratic - for instance, as I was checking the weather for Milford Sound a few days before arriving, it was showing that in excess of 100 mm of rain was expected most days. In the end, the weather was much better than I expected, but it still impacted my schedule somewhat.

As the 737 approached the destination, I was greeted by the somewhat spooky sight of snowy summits sticking out of the clouds here and there. I’m sure the pilots knew what they’re doing, but as an infrequent flyer, I think there’s a natural discomfort stemming from not seeing the clear path between the peaks. As we got closer to the lightly bumpy final approach to ZQN we left the clouds above and the beautiful mountain view became clear.

This was the first time I’ve ever travelled internationally with ADHD medication - I got diagnosed about 2 weeks before the trip. Since dexamfetamine is a controlled substance, I was a little paranoid about customs. I told the officer what I was carrying, got pulled aside, they inspected the bottle and the travel letter from my doctor. Didn’t give me any trouble other than causing a 5 minute delay. The return leg was even easier - Aussie border control officers didn’t even want to check my meds, just waved me through.

Upon landing, I was treated to an awfully long wait at the baggage claim. We were stuck for over an hour and got to begrudgingly watch people from the next flight get their luggage before us. This was not a busy time at the airport, mind you. Throughout the whole ordeal, there was only the one other flight. This had me worried whether I’d make it to the car rental place before it closes. Not off to the best of starts, but thankfully it worked out well - I made it in time.

As I was sitting on the floor of the crowded baggage claim, some officers walked through the area with a beagle. I thought they might be checking for drugs - so, in my paranoia, I prepared to explain the situation again, but it seems that the dog was only sniffing for food for biosecurity reasons. I think a food sniffing dog is, well, just a dog. Does that even require any training? I know for a fact that my old beagle Jantar would have found any food with ease and boy was he not well trained.

Queenstown

Originally, the plan was to do the Ben Lomond hike - starting with a gondola ride - after landing and checking in. That plan went out the window pretty quickly - between the baggage delay and the weather, I decided it would be unwise to attempt it.

It was still winter up above, but down in the valley the spring was beginning to spring.

The weather in particular surprised me at first. Later in the evening there were some freezing cold showers, but even before then I felt much colder than expected. Thankfully, I would adapt to this cold very quickly - from day 2 on, it really wasn’t bad at all. Nice and fresh if anything. But that first taste of wintery air had me shivering.

The Remarkables. View from near the Skyline gondola, but they are also the first thing you notice when you get off the plane.

So I opted to only take the Skyline gondola and enjoy a local beer while watching Queenstown from above. The gondola ride is rather pricy - over the next few days I would saturate my eyes with even better views at a much lower cost. At the time, though, I definitely thought it was worth the fare.

The Remarkables again, from the top of the Skyline gondola this time.

Queenstown is a cute little town, if a bit too touristy for my taste - especially since it was still ski season. At approx. 28,000 residents, it was the biggest town I would visit during this trip. South Island isn’t particularly densely populated.

Queenstown is also home to a large population of sparrows, which always put a smile on my face, as well as chaffinches, blackbkirds and silvereyes. Blackbirds are also a very welcome sight - I used to see and hear them often in Poland and they’re very rare in Australia. I also got to see a wild tūī, which delighted me with its unique song.

I had dinner at Farelli’s - good pizza, even better chocolate cake - and headed to my cabin accommodation in Arthur’s Point a little north of town. There, I discovered some car trouble - I found out the trunk lock is a bit dodgy. The little bottom hook required manual adjustment, otherwise it wouldn’t close, and it took me a surprising amount of fiddling by the flashlight to figure out how to get it to close.

I would soon also learn how cold it would be in the morning trying to get from the cabin to the shared bathroom as well as re-learn that frozen windscreens are a thing. I did not have a scraper - but thankfully a credit card did well enough in a pinch. I also decided I shouldn’t cheap out and get some actual fit for purpose hiking gear - went shopping in town and got some nice merino socks and a sweater. The sweater in particular was a very good purchase.

Waiting for the Kiwi Park to open, I went to grab a Fergburger for breakfast (and in the spirit of further flaunting the social conventions, I followed up with an 8:30 am beer at Ferg’s Bar). The burger was reasonably priced (or, rather, somewhat pricy but more than big enough to compensate), but it wasn’t as good as the hype had me believe. By no means bad though.

Once open, I headed to the Kiwi Park. I don’t exactly make it a secret that I’m a glutton for an aviary and this trip was no exception. This was the first place I got to see, albeit captive, kea, weka, kererū, kākā and 2 species of kākāriki. The former 3 I would later also get to see in the wild.

And ultimately just big alpine chickens.

… where they hide some beautiful colours - as if the olive green wasn’t pretty enough!

Seeing kea for the first time was incredible. They’re bigger than I thought, their beaks look powerful and they’re the only species of alpine parrot in the world. They’re also very smart and very cheeky, which I’ll get to experience first hand later on in the trip.

I got to see a few kiwi as well, but pictures were not allowed and would be hard to take anyways due to their nocturnal enclosure. They truly are weird birds though. There are several species and I think they are the only bird family that has nostrils at the end of their beaks instead of at the top - and, unlike most birds, they actually do heavily rely on their sense of smell. They move surprisingly fast as they forage, digging through the muddy ground with their long beaks.

But in the end, Rick the kererū stole the Kiwi Park show. She is a rescue pigeon, half blind and a little worse for wear, but she is the roundest bird to have ever been round. I love her and wish I could take her home. In general, I really wish you could adopt a kererū. They’re perfect. Very pigeon, very big, very round, very green, very small head. The signs in their enclosure also said that they tend not to talk much, though they make a lot of noise as they crash through tree branches, but I did get to hear them coo twice while I was there.

This is Rick and I love her. The sheer beauty of her colours also makes this the only picture in this post where I consistently have to reduce either the size or the quality because the file tends to be too large.

Here you can see Rick’s bad eye. Poor girl has been through some tough times. But I’m glad she gets to live out her days at the park.

One of Rick’s buddies and a good showcase of how small their heads are.

Kākā. They seem very playful. Unfortunately, their enclosure was not walk-in (a bit hazy - shot through the fence).

Kākāriki - yellow-crowned (a bit hazy - shot through the fence).

After checking out all of the birds, I went to Kiwi Park’s conservation show. In terms of spectacle, it was a little bit of a disappointment - expected to see more birds, but it was very interesting nonetheless.

The highlight was the tuatara, a non-lizard “lizard” endemic to New Zealand, whose conservation efforts have seen a lot of success. It looks like a lizard, but it isn’t one, and while closer related to lizards, it’s placed somewhere between them and birds. The person running the show told us that their lifespan is a little uncertain as “they keep outliving the researchers”, but it seems to be that at least over a hundred years is not uncommon.

It was also interesting to find out that you can - and are in fact encouraged to - buy things made of possum fur. Possum, having been introduced, have been a disaster for the native wildlife. There’s a concerted effort to rid the island of them - and other introduced predators - by 2050.

Routeburn Track

Having seen what I wanted to see in Queenstown, I headed northwest through Glenorchy to the Routeburn Track. The route leads along the lake, offering more stunning mountain views, and later proceeds through pastoral land.

Routeburn - and the abundance of other ‘-burn’s in the area - made me wonder about the name. Turns out it means a large stream or a small river and originates from Scotland and North England. Same root applies to ‘-bourne’, apparently.

These guys will make some good sweaters.

Once at the track, due to limited time, I only hiked about 6 km out and then backtracked.

My head canon is that it’s a kiwi overgrown with moss.

Walking in the ever so slight drizzle I was in awe of the almost pulsating with life surroundings. I’ve never seen this much moss before - or lichen this lush. The whole area was incredibly moist, quiet and beautiful. This was the first time I saw the milky blue glacial waters and was absolutely taken aback. Later, of course, I would see that this shade of water is actually very common on South Island, but it wouldn’t exactly lose its magic.

My first close look at the glacial waters.

The colour comes from “glacial flour” - a finely ground dust resulting from glaciers grinding against rocks.

On the way back, I tried finding the Paradise sign. Unfortunately, I either missed it or didn’t get far enough. On the gravel road, I came across a rather ominous sign, warning of ford crossings and advising the road may not be safe for non-4WD vehicles - unfortunately, didn’t take a picture of the sign - and when I indeed came across a ford, I decided not to push my luck. Instead, I drove to Kingston at the far end of Lake Wakatipu for the night.

Another night, another cabin, another freezing rainy walk to the showers - but I did not care at all for the trip was already amazing.

Kingston

The original plan was to rush out and get to Milford Sound, but the road was closed due to avalanche hazard. Thankfully, I was able to reschedule my Milford Sound cruise at no extra cost, but that did mean I had to improvise for the day. I ended up booking a cruise to Te Anau Glowworm Caves.

I only explored Kingston briefly in the morning. Back in the day, to get to Queenstown, you would have to take a steam train to Kingston and then a steamboat across the lake. Today, with these newfangled aeroplanes and automobiles, both the train and the boat have become obsolete and defunct. Most of the rail line is disused, but, in season, you can take a trip on the Kingston Flyer on what remains of the line. It wasn’t the season. The little train station in town was converted to a pub, which I will revisit later.

But you can still have a peek at Mr. Flyer himself at his shed.

I headed to Te Anau. Along the way, I found the other terminus of what remains of the Kingston Branch line.

As everything else on the South Island, the road to Te Anau was quite picturesque - if more hilly than mountainous.

Approaching Te Anau, I stopped by the Lions Point Lookout, but weather being what it was, the view wasn’t great. It kind of just became a wall of grey where it seemed like it would get interesting. I did get a few shots of the local farm animals though.

Having arrived at Te Anau, I found out my Glowworm Caves cruise got cancelled due to the weather. It had been raining quite hard all day. So I had to improvise further and decided to do the bottom part of the Kepler Track. I went to the local outdoor equipment shop and rented a pair of rain pants. Shout out to Outside Sports - they were very flexible in terms of returns, they offered that I can drop the pants off at the supermarket next door if I can’t make their hours. In the end, I managed to return them before they closed, but I really appreciated the flexibility.

Due to the relatively heavy rain, I decided to leave the camera in the cabin and thus I don’t have too much to remember the Kepler Track by. Phone got moist enough that it was kind of hard to use. But it was again very wet, very green and very lush. I walked about 4.5 km out, parts of the path flooded, until a huge fallen tree blocked my way. I couldn’t find a way around it so I headed back. This night’s cabins offered a complimentary sauna session which was very welcome after the rainy walk.

Milford Sound

The next morning I headed towards Piopiotahi - or Milford Sound. Having seen pictures before - as well as having been told about its beauty - I was really excited for what lied ahead. Spoiler alert: it absolutely lives up to the hype.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Meanwhile, the road was still closed. The website said it’s expected to reopen at 11, so I started heading that way, hoping they will indeed reopen. It reopened… a bit past 12. I ended up being stuck waiting for it to open for about 90 minutes. But it was far from the worst place to be stuck - I secured a spot at Pop’s View Lookout before most of the crowd arrived. The views were stunning and I had a chat with one of the roadworks crew whose job was basically to be on the lookout for the aircraft that will drop the charges to clear the avalanche hazard. By no means the worst job in the world if you ask me.

Imagine getting paid to stare at this (Pop’s View Lookout).

What an awful job that’s gotta be (Pop’s View Lookout).

But I’m still getting ahead of myself. Before getting to this lookout, the road led through Eglinton Valley. The valley had something of an eerie feel to it - flat, dry grass bottom, misty forested hills to the sides - and further in, there was plenty of snow on either side of the road.

The whole road had a somewhat liminal feel to it. It went through several very different areas, culminating with Homer Tunnel, beyond which it became a whole new world. The tunnel, metaphorically and literally, marks a very clear transition point between “non-Milford” and “Milford”. Cutting through over a kilometre of rock, it also 20 years to dig - initially, with just a skeleton crew of 5 people. It leads down a steep gradient. Huge undertaking that I’m very glad they undertook.

The tunnel is also a popular spot for kea. Being the smart, cheeky buggers that they are, they enjoy interacting with the stopped traffic (traffic alternates through the narrow tunnel). I’m sure some people - sadly - feed them, but even apart from that, they love landing on cars and pecking at windscreen wipers. Technically, I took these pics on the way back… so I guess in a way I’m getting ahead of myself again.

(Birds excepted). Homer Tunnel, west end.

Got one in flight. Homer Tunnel, west end.

So cheeky. Homer Tunnel, west end. Hundred Falls in the background.

And then came time for Milford Sound. Technically, it’s not a sound but a fiord (false advertising) and, of course, very touristy - and I strongly dislike crowds. But it was absolutely worth dealing with the crowds and the pictures don’t do it justice.

Milford Sound has 2 permanent waterfalls, one of which is used to power the village, and hundreds of temporary ones. Some of the temporary ones disappear within hours after the rain, some within days, but as the guide said - 10 days without rain in Milford is basically a drought. I was there soon enough after a heavy rain that many of the temporary waterfalls were still running.

Some of the cascades stretch more than 1500 metres tall.

Milford Sound. Some of the smaller waterfalls just disappear into thin air.

Milford Sound. The permanent waterfall by the village. Wharf is around the corner to the right.

Milford Sound. Fiordland crested penguins. I failed to take a single sharp picture of them, despite literally 160 attempts - this is one of the best. Too much zoom and boat rocking.

On the way back, I stopped at Monkey Creek which is also a spot kea tend to frequent. And I met one that was more than happy to pose for a few shots. These were taken from very close - less than 1 metre - it wasn’t afraid of me at all and it climbed up on a little rock to give me a better backdrop.

As is customary for me, I tend to try to see as much as I can in a short time. This means that I had to get to Wānaka the same night. 95 km from Milford Sound as the crow flies… 343 km as the pavement-bound crow walks. Naturally, I got there quite late. As I went over Crown Range in the dark of the night I was worried about black ice - the car thermometer was showing 1 degree and there was snow around. Thankfully, no issues. Along the way, I stopped at Kingston - the same Kingston as before, and in fact in the aforementioned station pub - for some delicious cod and chips for dinner.

Wanaka

Seems like the heading font doesn’t like the bars over letters.

Wānaka has two main claims to fame, both of which I’ve visited - #ThatWanakaTree and Roy’s Peak. The former is a very easy, very short walk from a parking lot.

The latter… oh boy.

Roy’s Peak

Will was my primary resource for hikes on this trip. He is also an absolute hiking and trail running machine. This means that he knows where the views are, but he can also overestimate other people’s capability. I’m in a decent cardiovascular shape from all my cycling, but I’m still heavy and my legs aren’t used to hiking.

Not far up at all and I’m already drenched in sweat.

I made it to the top. I made it back down. I could barely walk up - and especially down - a kerb for the next 3 days. My legs have never been this sore. At the bottom of the descent they were literally violently shaking just trying to stand. Ouch oof.

Worth it.

The trail to the peak is easy - or should I say ‘simple’ - in the technical sense - it’s well maintained, not very rocky, no slippery roots to watch out for. But it’s very steep - over 1300 vert metres over approx. 7.5 km - and unrelenting - it basically never flattens out. The beginning is particularly steep. I started off with a fairly fast pace - the same pacing issue I often have cycling, I go harder than I should - and about 500 metres in, I was ready to give up. I managed to fall into a more steady rhythm though.

On the way up, it started off as a dry path through pastoral land, then got somewhat muddy. Then, as I got high enough for it to be snowy, I also walked into the clouds. This had me worried I won’t be able to enjoy the views at the top, but at this point I was committed to getting there regardless. Thankfully, the cloud layer didn’t reach all the way to the top and the views were mesmerising.

About halfway to the top, I caught up to two Estonian lads on a working holiday, Allan and Kaido. The chats helped take the attention away from the effort. I also learned how to say “twelve months” in Estonian (kaksteist kuud, hehe - if you don’t get it, you can find the pronunciation online). Once we got to the top, it suddenly turned out that it’s actually cold (on the way up, I was overheating and quite literally steaming), so we slapped on some extra layers and enjoyed the view.

Long way back to the parking lot.

Proud of this shot. I think it’s a song thrush. At the summit.

At the top we also met Bee, an Aussie girl on holidays in NZ, and she accompanied us on the way down. She was able to leverage her ski pants to slide down the steeper snowy bits.

Speaking of interesting hiking choices, how Kaido kept his toes after sloshing down the snow slush in his badminton shoes is beyond me.

As we went down, the shadows got deeper.

Once back at the parking lot, Bee split off, while myself and the boys went for dinner in Wānaka at The Cow. Huge garlic bread. Like, a literal loaf. Afterwards, I headed to Franz Josef. Another long drive in the dark with hardly any cars at all and possums galore.

Westland

The plan was to do the Franz Josef Glacier hike - but of course my legs didn’t work after Roy’s Peak. So I stuck to the easy stuff. For starters, drove to a lookout with a view of Fox Glacier. There, I finally saw some wild kererū.

The next stop was Hokitika Gorge. Bee recommended checking it out and while I initially had other priorities, I decided this will be a less intense alternative to Franz Josef. The hike was short and flat, but it still took a lot out of my legs as I walked very slowly. Apart from the gorgeous (hehe, get it?) blue water, I spotted a fantail, a South Island robin and a weka. The fantail in particular was very playful, repeatedly flying very close past me and other visitors.

Weka at the Hokitiga Gorge parking lot. Cheeky food stealing buggers. Back at Kiwi Park we were treated to a presentation of how they dig through backpacks.

Fantail at Hokitika Gorge. I choose to see them as New Zealand’s answer to Australia’s willie wagtail - two birds with a similarly frowned brow.

This nights stay was at Arthur’s Pass. At the time, there were road closures due to a landslide at Otira Gorge Rock Shelter. On weekdays, the road would only open once every hour to let the traffic through and would be closed altogether at night. Thankfully, I was driving through on the weekend, so didn’t need to worry about the delay.

On the way to Arthur’s Pass I finally got to snap a few pics with the drone I brought with me. New Zealand is quite restrictive with where it is and isn’t legal to fly drones. I’m not entirely sure if all of my flights were fully legal, though I did make an effort to not fly where I knew it wasn’t allowed. Between restrictions and weather, I didn’t get to use it much.

Otira Valley

In the morning I had a chat with the lady taking care of the accommodation. She seemed quite the character. Hailing from Mississippi, she’s was a biblical archeologist, having dug in Israel and also served in the US military, then moved to Australia and at the time was doing volunteer work in NZ. Her name escapes me now, but I remember thinking she was very young at heart, if a little eccentric.

With legs still out of commission, the Avalanche Peak hike I had hoped to do at Arthur’s Pass was a no go. Instead, I backtracked slightly and did a small part of the Otira Valley Track. While not very steep, it was still a major ordeal for my wrecked legs - especially any small bit of downhill.

The drive to Twizel

I spent most of the rest of the day just driving. I needed to get to Twizel for the night. The main two points of my interest along the way were Rakaia Gorge and Lake Tekapo, but the highway down from Arthur’s pass also proved very scenic. I also drove through the small town of Methven, which, despite its name, proved quite charming.

Porters Pass (I believe this is technically a selfie).

Lake Tekapo is a renowned dark sky area, but unfortunately time (and rather cloudy skies) did not permit a proper star gazing. Definitely something to return to!

Upon arriving in Twizel, I managed to find a food truck serving some woodfired pizza and went to the lodge to crash.

Aoraki

I remember the night at the lodge being very cosy. It was close to freezing outside, I had the window slightly open, so it was hard to get out from under the sheets in the morning. Plus the sound of the chirping sparrows outside! The accommodation itself was somewhat dated, but definitely good enough for my needs - and far cheaper than what was available at Mount Cook Village.

I grabbed some sausage rolls at a local bakery and headed to the Hooker Valley walk. It’s about an hour’s drive from Twizel and the entire length of it is breathtaking - that’s where the opening picture comes from. Mountains, lakes, snow. Extremely fresh air. By this point my legs were starting to work again - and the Hooker Valley hike itself is easy.

Morning frost on the railing at Lake Pukaki Lookout.

Hooker Valley turned out to be an absolute winter wonderland. Fresh snow, icy cold mountain rivers, views of glaciers and, at the end, a view of South Islands tallest mountain, Aoraki, over Hooker Lake. At over 3700 meters above sea level, it’s the tallest mountain I’ve ever seen in person. I’m really glad I got to see it in the winter, though I’m sure it’s also beautiful when more of the snow is melted.

The walk is an ever so slight incline, but the biggest danger is slipping on the snow or slush as the snow melts during the day, especially in the few spots that have some steps. On the way back, the weather took a bit of a turn for the worse - it started drizzling a bit and the wind picked up, but nothing too troublesome. I did feel for some of the people doing the walk who seemed a little underdressed though.

On the way back I was accompanied by an Austrian guy on a 6-week holiday in New Zealand, having done several multi-day hikes before arriving at Hooker Valley. We had a nice chat heading back to the car park. He then went on towards Mueller Hut, though I don’t know how far he made it. Unfortunately, his name escapes me.

This guy is gonna wake up to quite the view.

River flowing from Hooker Lake to Mueller Lake (Google Maps does not list this river’s name - maybe it’s just too short).

After the hike, I headed to Queenstown for the final night before flying back to Sydney.

Some final thoughts

Aotearoa is the te reo Māori word for New Zealand. Te Waipounamu is the name for the South Island. Apparently, the latter isn’t a very commonly used name, even among the Māori. Oh well! There’s something about te reo Māori that I find very appealing. Maybe it’s the amount of vowels. Maybe it’s the limited variety of consonants. Maybe it’s the fact that the most common way for anyone outside of Aotearoa to hear it is watching an All Blacks pre-game haka. Either way, the language just sounds awesome (in both the proper and common meanings of the word).

New Zealand - or at least the part I’ve seen, which isn’t even all of the South Island - is an absolutely stunning place. The way I described it to someone back home during the trip was that if you grabbed a random person, gave them a camera, airdropped them into a random spot on Te Waipounamu and pointed them in a random direction, they’d be more likely than not to take a postcard worthy picture. I will definitely be returning to explore more. The sheer density of natural beauty is completely off the charts. There probably are some places in the world that can compete, but I haven’t been to any of them.

It also stood out to me just how clean the place was. Living in a large city, unfortunately, there’s a lot of garbage floating around. Way too many people who just don’t care - and even then, Sydney is far from the dirtiest in the world. But I can’t recall seeing any garbage anywhere in the South Island. Maybe it’s just the small population caring more about their neighbourhoods. Maybe it’s local councils taking care of it to ensure tourists want to go there. But it amazed me nonetheless.

Drivers also seemed much more corteous. The roads are winding and narrow and can be bumpy, but it seems like a fair amount of people actually do use the little bays to let others overtake. Less ego, more wanting to get everyone safely and conveniently to where they’re going. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a regular car in Australia - going 20 under - use the slow vehicle bay to let someone pass. I’ve seen plenty in NZ. Though their “everything is a zone” approach to speed limits is a little weird at first.

Due to how mountainous the area is, there are many cases where there is no “direct route”. An extreme example is Fox Glacier to Mount Cook Village. Straight line distance is just 30 km - the shortest road is 455 km. It’s not exactly an insurmountable obstacle by any means, but it does require thinking a little differently about getting places.

The South Pole 19/12/23 The South Pole 19/12/23

Tamworth

A small spring cycling trip in Tamworth, NSW.

Around the end of September 2023, I decided to take a little trip out of town with the bike for a change of scenery. The location I picked - Tamworth - was chosen in no small part because of Williamsburg - a previously mentioned burger joint. The burgers were still delicious, but not as good as before since they removed slow cooked brisket from the menu. What were they thinking? Anyways, the primary goal was going cycling somewhere that's not too hilly and far enough from major cities that the traffic would be light.

The lack of hills was important as this was pretty soon after a few somewhat rough months - an injury, a prolonged cold, a bit of weight gain spurred by the getting-kicked-out-of-the-rented-appartment stress. As a result, I found myself quite a bit worse off than at a recent peak in April, when I was able to complete the Mount Buffalo climb in one go - a thousand metre high continuous climb at approx 5%.

September was different. In September, basically any climb seemed daunting. Tamworth it was.

Which still offered some rolling hills, but no major climbs. (somewhere between Nemingha and Kootingal, NSW)

The most obvious way to get to Tamworth from Sydney is following the motorway north, then taking the Hunter Expressway through Kurri Kurri and New England Highway all the way to Tamworth. There's an alternative route, offering much more picturesque views - Thunderbolts Way - but it means an hour long detour, so I opted against it. The idea was that I would cycle in afternoon of the day I arrive. Little did I know, a caravan crash caused an hour long delay, thwarting my time saving route choice. On the way back, I opted for Thunderbolts.

Initially, I planned 3 rides of approx 50 km each, but in the end - due to the poor shape I found myself in - only did two - one on the day I arrived, one the next day, with somewhat embarrassing distances of 44 and 50 km respectively. But I still managed to have a great time.

The first ride took me from Woolomin to Nundle and back, through the rolling hills and by the Chaffey Dam reservoir. A very low traffic route with a lot of farm animals around to keep me company. The view of the reservoir is also quite pretty, especially on the way back, as the sun was setting over it.

Some of Woolomin’s decoration (Woolomin, NSW)

Nundle - where I've been before, but where I haven't cycled - turns out to be home to some of the most vicious magpies I've ever encountered. There was a pair of them, holding a territorial claim over the road into the village. On the way in, they weren't too dangerous, as it was a fairly fast downhill and the sun was behind me, meaning I could respond to their shadows. I say ‘respond’, but what I really mean is panicked flailing of my head to scare them off just as they approach.

The way out - uphill and into the sun - was much more challenging. They swooped aggressively, pecking at my helmet, one actually landing on my back. I got out of it with no injuries at all, but the sharp claws of the maggie right below my neck were quite a scary sensation. Before that last encounter, though, I stopped at the local store for some ice cream and had a chat with the shopkeeper - he told me that some unfortunate tourist lady needed medical attention after they poked a bloodied hole in her head earlier the same day.

Chafey Dam reservoir, a little bit past sunset

For my second ride, I went from Nemingha to Limbri and back. The traffic was very sparse again. The first part of the route - to Kootingal - is a road parallel to the much busier New England Highway, while the latter part is a bit of a road to nowhere. Limbri is a locality of about 250 people and the paved road ends therein. A gravel road continues and rejoins a major highway - the Oxley - in Woolbrook. But realistically, there's hardly any reason for anyone but the locals to take it, so there really aren't many cars going into Limbri.

End of the road. Well, basically. (Limbri, NSW)

The road led through more rolling hills and farmlands, approximately following the train line from Tamworth to Armidale and I even got to see the train a few kilometres from the village. I didn't investigate the train station, unfortunately, which I think is defunct - I wish I had taken a slight detour to have a look at it. What I did see, though, was a great abandoned bus - and a number of sheep, in places dangerously invading the road.

The bus. (somewhere southwest of Limbri, NSW)

Kootingal turned out to be of particular interest to me on account of it's large sparrow population. The chirps of the little guys accompanied me all the way throughout the village, some 2 or 3 kilometres long. A really nice and nostalgic experience, especially considering how rare it is to bump into a sparrow in Sydney.

This isn’t a sparrow. (dead female superb fairywren, somewhere between Nemingha and Kootingal, NSW)

The third and last day, I felt a bit too worn out to go for a ride. I went to the Tamworth Marsupial Park instead - with no entry fees, it offers a nice little walk with a lot of native vegetation, some - if you can believe it - marsupials, and, most importantly - several aviaries. Some are walk in, some are fenced off, but I got to hang out with some birds and made friends with a galah who was kind enough to entertain me by dancing, singing and saying 'hello'.

The road back was uneventful, but - Thunderbolts - pretty.

Overall, it was a really nice, if short, trip. I wish I could do these more often. Unfortunately, places with really light traffic tend to be a fairly long drive away from Sydney - making it a rather time-intensive weekend getaway, and the fuel and accommodation costs easily add up.

The South Pole 9/5/23 The South Pole 9/5/23

Showing mum a little bit of Australia

A 3 week road trip across the beautiful, vast Aussie landscapes, in the form of an unreasonably long blog post

Yes, this road is an outlier. It’s not a 4WD after all. (access to the Breakaways near Coober Pedy)

Poland happens to be located… some distance away from Australia. This makes spending time with mum difficult and infrequent. As such, I figured I’d try to get her her time’s — and money’s — worth and get the hell out of Sydney for as long as we manage.

The Prep

I’m quite fortunate in that my company allows taking a sabbatical once achieving a certain tenure. The longer the tenure the longer (or better compensated) the sabbatical - but as a person who enjoys time off and a good work-life balance, I decided to jump on it as soon as I could, i.e. after 3 years. This allowed me to take a month off outside of my normal PTO.

A month off typically needs to be arranged with some advance — as was also true in this case. Mum runs her own company, which on the one hand gives her more freedom, but on the other means she works considerably more than a normal full time job, so she also needs advance notice to catch up as much as she can and aim for times of the year that are somewhat less busy. We also wanted to score a relatively cheap flight — so we did our very first bits of planning back in April, 5 months ahead of the anticipated dates.

We — and by we, I mean I, as I was in charge of the route — decided to go on a road trip. The longest one either of us have done by far.

A much more common sight. (somewhere between Coober Pedy and the SA/NT border)

A road trip allows a lot of flexibility in choosing what to see and when to get there. I also personally simply love driving… as long as I don’t see any cars in front of me. The Outback is a perfect destination.

The upside downside, of course, is the long driving times. Also spending a metric bucketload of money on fuel.

All that said, there’s a big question — do I use my own car, or do I rent? WIth the follow-up — if renting, do I go for a small car or a camper van?

We even considered splitting the difference and renting a car for a part of the trip, then returning it at a different location and doing a campervan relocation if it saves us some money, but we couldn’t find any relocations that would work — and returning a car at a different location comes at a premium. In fact, the cost of renting basically any car for 3 weeks is terrifying — and many rental companies have limitations on where the car can be taken, most notably forbidding entry into NT, which was one of our must-haves. We also decided a 3 week trip in a camper van — having never done a trip in a camper van before — might be going in a touch too deep.

Ultimately, I decided to drive my own car.

My car is fun to drive.

Not the biggest roadkill by far. (somewhere between Denilinquin and Balranald)

Knowing that we’ll be driving a small hatchback — that claims to be AWD, but I wouldn’t want to try to push it too hard on gravel — we could get started on planning the route.

We knew we’d mostly be taking paved roads that have traffic — during the day — on the order of at the very least a car every 10 minutes, so we didn’t really need to do any extensive physical preparations. We just made it a point to bring a portable cooler and to ensure being over-prepared in terms of water for the desert — trying to have 2 days water per person — and otherwise decided to rely on the help of strangers if the need would arise. Aussies, especially in the Outback, tend to be friendly and helpful. We had people stopping to ask us if we need help when we simply stopped for pictures.

Am I going overboard with the long straight road pictures? No, surely not. (somewhere between Charters Towers and Emerald)

The Route

I started with several destinations I considered must-haves, then built a route around them. Outside of the desert — where the number of available beds is low, so I wanted to ensure booking them ahead of time — we mostly winged it, only making sure we have the next one or two nights booked. We would typically decide on what we want to see next on the eve of seeing it.

The must-haves were as follows, in order:

Bright, VIC — as I’m considering moving there at some point
Broken Hill, NSW — for the best milk shakes I’ve ever had
Uluru, NT — I’ve lived in Australia for nigh on 6 years and I still hadn’t seen this giant pebble
Cairns, QLD — wanted to see some tropical Australia and Darwin was a touch too far to include
Grafton, NSW - we timed the trip with the Jacaranda Festival, can’t skip Grafton at the end of October
Tamworth, NSW - for the best burgers I’ve ever had

Beef patty, buttermilk chicken, slow cooked brisket and bacon. The burger to end all burgers. (Williamsburg, Tamworth)

The rest followed from there, with nights spent at the following locations:

Bright, VIC
Mildura, VIC
Wirrabara, SA
Coober Pedy, SA
Ghan, NT
Petermann, NT
Alice Springs, NT
Tennant Creek, NT
Mount Isa, QLD
Torrens Creek, QLD
Cairns, QLD
Paluma, QLD
Emerald, QLD
Noosa, QLD
Maclean, NSW
Tamworth, NSW

The approximate route. Google Maps won’t let me input enough intermediate points.

What we originally estimated to be upwards of 9000 km, ended up being exactly 11601 km over 22 days for an average of 527 km a day. Or an approximate 1.1 cubic metres of fuel in total.

The Trip

Day 0: Mum arrives in Sydney

This in itself isn’t worth mentioning, as this is what this whole post is about. The only thing of note here is that she arrived a day later than anticipated… because she misread her ticket. We were planning to give her a day off to get closer to Aussie time. As a result, she’ll be quite jetlagged for the next day or two.

Day 1: Sydney to Bright via Canberra and Cooma

Originally planned to go through Cooma, then all the way south to the shore, then back north via the Great Alpine Road. The plan was foiled due to running behind schedule as well as mum struggling to stay awake. I’ve seen all the views here, so once we got to Cooma we decided to cut it a bit short and head up north to Tumut, follow the motorway to Albury and get to Bright, ideally while it’s still bright (hehe).

Scruffy-looking rainbow lorikeet (Canberra Walk In Aviary)

We did stop in Canberra, though, for a meal and to visit the local walk-in aviary. Canberra, as always, didn’t fail to deliver that distinct ‘ghost city’ vibe. It’s hard to believe almost 400,000 people call it home. The aviary was the first of several we visited on the trip — yes, dear reader, I will bore you with more bird pictures — and it definitely was a nice way to break up the long drive. Birds were plentiful, their colours lively, and we got to see a cockatiel try to bang a pigeon.

Go get her, buddy. Excuse the low quality. (Canberra Walk In Aviary)

Day 2: Bright

We spent a total of 3 nights — or two days — in Bright. Like I mentioned, it’s a place I’m considering moving to somewhere down the line. After these 3 days, I’m even more convinced I should do this. The town is beautiful. One distinct memory is walking out of Woolies at 9 pm and not hearing a sound, while the air was filled with the smell of flowers. I’ve also seen Bright in autumn though, and it’s just as lovely, with all the colourful leaves. The people seem super nice — though this is only based on several conversations so far. Lovely place.

The pine cones are a menace, though. (Bright)

The first day in Bright was dedicated to having a look around the town — the market streets, a walk along the river, trying the burger place. The burgers were decent, but it’s no Williamsburg.

They have the right idea about vegans. (Burgerville, Bright)

The river walk was lovely. The first section led through a nice, well maintained — if a bit small — park…

… and then it got more bushy — I could absolutely see myself doing this walk often. And we got to hear and see blackbirds. Their song is beautiful and they’re very hard to find in Australia — I’ve only seen them twice in close to 6 years.

Day 3: Bright surroundings

While in the area, we decided to check out a few things that I’ve driven past before but for one reason or another never at the right time to actually see them.

One of them was a deer and emu farm. For a few bucks we got to feed the animals from buckets. Turns out emus are aggressive eaters. Their call is also insanely low - you feel it more than you hear it. As we found out, their hearing range also covers very low frequencies — they listen for distant thunderstorms and follow the sound in hope of finding water.

Still not as aggressive as me with pizza. (The Red Stag Deer and Emu Farm, Eurobin)

Another stop we did was finally visiting The Horn in Mount Buffalo NP. I’ve been there before, but at that time decided against getting on the gravel section (last 3 km or so of the road). Big mistake. The road is narrow and steep, but decently maintained. The view — 360 degrees of beauty.

Pied currawong with the best view. (The Horn lookout, Mount Buffalo NP)

We stopped at Sir Loin’s in Bright for an early dinner, where I had the best steak I’ve had so far. Wagyu, MS 7+. Delicious and way too expensive. No pictures (and to be fair, it looked like a steak).

Yours truly. (still the Horn lookout, Mount Buffalo NP)

It was also the first time I’ve been to the Aussie Alps around the snow season. Well, on the weekend immediately following the end of the snow season. There was still a decent amount of snow lying around, if not very fresh.

The last of the snow. (somewhere between Smoko and Mount Hotham)

We stayed in the mountains until the sunset, and headed to Bright Brewery for some locally crafted beers to top the night off.

A road sign. (somewhere between Smoko and Mount Hotham)

One more sunset pic for good measure. (somewhere between Smoko and Mount Hotham)
Day 4: Bright to Mildura
Day 4 was mostly a transit day. Both mum and I have been to Mildura previously, so we didn’t re-explore the same areas again. We mainly used Mildura as a place to stop for the night before continuing on. We followed side roads on the NSW side of the Murray.

And there was some flooding near the road.

The drive was mostly uneventful. Mostly.

Imagine an empty road, no crossroads for tens of kilometres, and suddenly there is one — and we actually intend to turn! Mum was driving — the experienced driver that she is, with over 20 years under her belt — and this one corner in the middle of nowhere was probably the most dangerous situation of the whole trip. She slowed down way too late, forgot to downshift, and we ended up stopping dead in the middle of the crossroads, pointed exactly between the road straight ahead and the one we intended to take, engine off, mum in visible confusion and slight panic. Thankfully, traffic was very low. In mum’s defense, she hadn’t driven stick in a few years and traffic in Poland is right hand side. Didn’t stop me from giving her crap about it for the rest of the trip.

This could have been us. (bit anachronistic — we didn’t see this until the next day — in Silverton)

Day 5: Mildura to Wirrabara via Broken Hill

Broken Hill remains one of my favourite small NSW towns. Home to about 17500 people, it’s a mining town in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest significant establishment around 300 km away — Mildura, that is. Broken Hill has one of the biggest deposits of lead and zinc in Australia as well as some silver. The local Aboriginals have a story for where the deposits came from. Supposedly, long ago, one of the Aboriginals was hunting bronzewing pigeons. One managed to escape, but it was wounded. As it fled, it was stopping to rest and the blood and feathers it was losing was forming the minerals. Its spirit supposedly went all the way to Mount Isa, which will also be a stop on this trip. I’m not sure if geologists would agree, but I like the story.

Between railroad museums — Broken Hill first had a connection to South Australia rather than NSW and still belongs to the SA timezone, mineral museums and the best damn milk shakes I’ve had, there’s plenty to do in Broken Hill, but the area around it is also stunning.

Hehe. (Albert Kersten Mining and Minerals Museum, Broken Hill)

I remember marvelling at the vast wastelands around Broken Hill during one of my previous visits, when I rented a 4WD and went off the beaten track. Certainly the most desolate areas of NSW — the area north of Broken Hill is “Unincorporated Regional NSW” for a reason. On the route I picked I had to cross 18 cattle gates. Love it.

Not actually from this trip. Sue me. (the desert north of Broken Hill, April 2022)

There’s also the tiny town of Silverton nearby, with its old ruined buildings and a historic graveyard. Silverton has a Mad Max museum, as one of the movies was filmed in the area. I’ve been to this museum and mum doesn’t have much interest in Mad Max, so we skipped it this time.

They also have this thing, parked outside the pub. (Silverton)

Silverton is also right at the doorstep of the Mundi Mundi plains. I’ve been to the Mundi Mundi lookout about 4 times now and it never disappoints. The plains are vast. Hard to imagine until you’ve seen them. Pictures don’t do them justice. At least mine.

The desert is much greener than it used to be, presumably thanks to the third consecutive La Niña year, so it doesn’t look quite as empty, but I’m sure it will revert to it’s normal reds dominating over the greens soon enough.

Parts of the desert are positively blooming. (somewhere between Broken Hill and Silverton)

After a longer stop at Broken Hill, we headed to Taralee Orchards in Wirrabara for the night. The very end of that trip was quite tense — because of about ten kilometres of poor quality gravel road, in the rain and darkness — but the stay was lovely. We had a two bedroom cabin to ourselves, with a fireplace and wood provided with no extra charge. Definitely one of the better nights of the trip.

And this was our view in the morning. (Taralee Orchards, Wirrabara)

Day 6: Wirrabara to Coober Pedy

Most of this day - and frankly most of the drive the next few days - was just transiting. There really isn’t much in the desert between the infrequent roadhoases and even rarer actual settlements. Which doesn’t mean we haven’t seen a few nice views along the way.

Germain Gorge leads to Port Germain, home to the once upon a time longest wooden jetty in the Southern Hemisphere.

The jetty is indeed quite lengthy. (Port Germain jetty)

We stopped at Port Augusta to restock. This was the first location where we saw significant numbers of Aboriginal people. The theme, unfortunately, is poverty, ranging between homes looking like homeless camps and districts looking poor but well kept. I would love to have a conversation with some of the locals about what life is like and what their problems are. I didn’t have much of an opportunity, because I’m not really one to approach a random person in the street and ask about their life story and struggles. One day perhaps.

Port Augusta is also of note because it marks the spot where reasonably frequent 4G reception ended. Vodafone coverage in rural and Outback Australia is virtually nonexistent — Telstra is better, but I’m pretty sure it’s still only available in towns. For almost the next 4000 km, there were 2 spots with reception - Yulara and Mount Isa. The area is wonderfully empty and you can go 500 km around the speed limit and only need to overtake — or be overtaken — once or twice. Beautiful.

Empty. (somewhere on the Stuart Highway)

It also marks the start of proper road train country. In fact, on the Stuart Highway — the stretch of road between Port Augusta and Darwin, some 2700 km with really not much along the way — it’s mostly road trains with the occasional camper.

It’s mostly this. Or the one with 4 shorter trailers. (somewhere on the Stuart Highway)

The road between Port Augusta and Coober Pedy doesn’t have many things worth stopping for, but one of those is definitely Lake Hart. When I went there back in April, it was literally just salt — this time around there was a little bit of water.

It’s quite a big lake, too. From a distance, it’s really hard to be sure whether there’s water in it or only salt.

Frankly, I think it looks better without the water. (Lake Hart)

We drove through the area in the spring and soon after rains, so plenty of desert flowers were in bloom, but we only spotted one place that actually had wild Sturt desert peas.

Weird looking flowers. (Sturt desert peas, somewhere along the Stuart Highway)

Three types of flowers stood out — I’m unsure of the names of the latter two though.

There were oceans of these along the highway. (somewhere along Stuart Highway)

Once we got to Coober Pedy — and found out there is no 4G — we checked in to a dugout B&B. We managed to do some further trip planning at a restaurant which offered WiFi access.

Not quite as many of these, but we did find a field full of them. (somewhere along Stuart Highway)

Coober Pedy inhabitants got the idea of living in dugouts because the temperature outside in the summer was just unbearable — frequently exceeding 40 degrees. They figured that since they’re digging anyways, they might as well sleep in the mines. Nowadays about half of Coober Pedy’s population lives undeground. The night in the dugout was definitely one of the coolest nights of the trip.

With this view right out front. (Coober Pedy outskirts)

Day 7: Coober Pedy to Ghan

We started the day by exploring Coober Pedy a little. The tiny town’s main draw — and main export — are their opals. The whole area is like Swiss cheese — there are signs that inform you that you shouldn’t run or walk backwards in the mining fields, because there are tens of thousands of holes — wide enough for a human to fall into and approx. 20 metres deep. Anyone can get a license and a claim — and they cost pennies, as do Coober Pedy properties — and start digging. With a lot of luck, you could make millions in a day. Without it, you could waste years and find nothing.

At approx. 2500 people, “city” is a bit much. (Coober Pedy)

I think it takes a certain degree of madness to choose this lifestyle — but they make it work. Coober Pedy produces about 80% of Australia’s opal and Australia produces about 90% of the world’s. Within the town limits, there are piles of discarded rock and gravel from old mining operations — as a tourist, you can try your hand at finding some opals in them. I doubt there’s anything of actual value, but I did find several small pieces of opal and some of them even had a bit of fire. But unless you’re an opal mining nerd, the town doesn’t have much to offer. The name of the town is thought to originate from the Aboriginal term for “white man in a hole” (referring to the dugouts) — this area is so arid it wasn’t populated until the colonists arrived. It’s mostly dust and dirt.

Hundreds of kilometres of dust and dirt. (the Breakaways near Coober Pedy)

Coober Pedy has an awesome, somewhat postapocalyptic aesthetic. Apart from the iconic dugouts, there’s plenty of corrugated metal sheets, rusty vehicles, abandoned — and still in use — mining machinery and in general all sorts of mechanical garbage. One might think it’s function over form, except it’s really not. If I were to make up a term, I’d call it rustcore or garbagepunk.

I didn’t take enough pictures this time. This one’s back from April 2022. (I think it was at Crocodile Harry’s, Coober Pedy)

And they don’t take themselves too seriously.

Definitely at Crocodile Harry’s. (Coober Pedy)

Themselves or their cars.

Parked out front of the servo. (Coober Pedy)

Having given Coober Pedy a closer look, we headed off towards the Northern Territory for our next night — in the Erldunda Roadhouse in Ghan. This moment marked the point in the trip when we were getting into areas I haven’t seen before. Naturally, now that I was about to enter NT, I had to get me a CU in the NT hoodie.

It say's ‘STRAYA / CU in the NT’ on the back. (SA/NT border)

Day 8: Ghan to Petermann (via Uluru)

Due to accomodation limitations, both the night before we saw Uluru and the night after were spent approx. 250 km from Uluru itself. Not exactly a short commute — though not that long either by Outback standards. We had to get up pretty early if we wanted to do the Uluru walkabout and top it off with a helicopter flight to see it from up above.

One of several birds that commited suicide by car on this trip. This one was a galah. (somewhere between Ghan and Yulara)

On the drive to Uluru, we saw a mountain in the distance and at first we actually thought this might be it, but then we saw that we’re still about 150 km away, so it didn’t check out. Turns out it was Mount Conner.

We started our walk around Uluru a little late — around 10 am — and as a result, by the end, it was getting quite hot. Both mum and I underestimated the amount of water we will need. We finished the walk and we made it safe back to the car, but I did get a dehydration headache and the last 2 or 3 km weren’t much fun.

The monolith itself is stunning and it’s easy to see why it would become a holy site for the locals. It’s a lone, single giant piece of rock, with not much geology for tens of kilometres around it. It’s nooks allow for some water to pool and the erosion looks amazing.

The walk around it is easy — except for the temperature — no climbing involved and the ten kilometre loop is easy to follow. It’s hard to take a good picture of it up close, though, as it just doesn’t fit.

So we took to the skies.

I lucked into getting the front seat to this. (Uluru)

Seeing it from above makes you appreciate the scale (Uluru)

It was the first time either of us flew in a helicopter, so the flight itself was an adventure as well. I already knew I struggle with motion sickness on ultralight airplanes, now I know helicopters aren’t easier. The dehydration from the walk wasn’t helping my stomach either. Thankfully it was just a 15 minute flight, so I managed to hold it together, and the experience was definitely worth the discomfort.

Having seen Uluru, we stopped at Yulara to refuel and were greeted by a surprise — there were locks on the fuel pumps. This was not the last time we were going to see local servos taking preventative measures against fuel theft. Speaking of, the fuel prices in the desert have about a 40% markup over the ones in the city.

Foreshadowing the canyon from the next paragraph. (somewhere along Luritja Road)

Following that, we headed off towards Kings Creek Station in Petermann which turned out to be another great night. We met a Polish couple — who also live in Sydney — and enjoyed a conversation over some scotch, while a thunderstorm raged over the canyon in the distance and gentle rain tapped on the tin roof of the kitchen area.

Some places are more deserty than others. (somewhere along Lasseter Highway)

After an enjoyable evening, we slept in a bush tent — a solid built tent with AC, but with just enough room for two single beds. I didn’t sleep very well, but I felt extremely cosy, listening to the strong winds whistle against the tent all the way through the night, with a large flock of galahs serving as our alarm clocks.

The station was also a camel farm. Mum had a camel burger. (Kings Creek Station)

Day 9: Petermann to Alice Springs

We started the next day by heading to Kings Canyon for a little walk. The scotch took its toll though and as a result I was hungover and we hit the road a bit later than planned, with mum behind the wheel. When we got to the canyon, we decided against doing the rim walk, as it would involve a climb at the beginning and is estimated for 3 to 4 hours. The hangover dehydration and 35 degree heat probably wouldn’t have killed me, but I would have had a horrible time. We opted for the short walk into the canyon instead.

This is the path up to the rim walk. (Kings Canyon)

The canyon has considerably more plant life than the surrounding desert and is quite picturesque, with the green shrubs and trees contrasting with the red desert rocks.

View into the canyon from the path. (Kings Canyon)

At the end of the canyon there is a viewing platform with metal figurines of several species of birds and Aboriginal descriptions or stories related to them.

In my infinite wisdom I did not take a picture of the plaque explaining who these guys are. (Kings Canyon)

We also spotted some spinifex pigeons, which I had known about from the internet before. Cute little guys — they prefer not too fly too much, choosing to run away or camouflage instead. When one of them was sitting on a rock I noticed that its brown colour is almost perfectly matched with the rock itself.

Two of these guys would in the following days commit suicide by crashing into our car. One of them took my license plate cover out with it. (Kings Canyon)

About the time we got back to the car my hangover had subsided, so I was fine to drive. The trip to Alice Springs was quite roundabout, as the two shorter roads are both gravel, the shorter of which has a 100 km gravel section. The longer also requires a permit.

Still, we got there, and so did Myrtle. (Alice Springs)

We didn’t stay in Alice Springs very long — only one night and half the next day — so my view of the town may be skewed. I found it to be in a weird contrast with itself. On the one hand, it looked quite poor. On the other, there was plenty of art on the buildings and it didn’t seem to be suffering from vandalism. The surroundings of Alice Springs are very pretty — it’s nestled between small desert mountains — and they have a botanic garden and a large desert park which we’ll get to tomorrow.

An example of the local art. (Alice Springs)

But meanwhile, we headed for our stay. It was a backpackers place — the cheapest stay of the whole trip — and as such it wasn’t of the highest quality. It did the job though, and we got given the keys to the Unicorn Room.

I can’t figure out why they named the room thus. (Alice’s Secret Travellers Inn)

Apart from the unicorn, we had this chick staring at us.

Crack whore pixie. (Alice’s Secret Travellers Inn)

Day 10: Alice Springs to Tennant Creek

Before heading off further, we decided to stop at the Alice Springs Desert Park and Simpson’s Gap. The desert park is lovely, but I think mostly interesting to bird people. There are several aviaries, including some walk-in ones, and they organise bird shows.

The wedge tail eagle approaches. (Alice Springs Desert Park)

The bird show was one of the better ones I’ve seen, showcasing mostly birds of prey, including kites, a barn owl, a black breasted buzzard and of course a wedgie. A self-tamed willy wagtail kind of stole the show though, flying around the handler and asking for treats.

And of course we opted to get pics with the birds afterwards (Alice Springs Desert Park)

We spent almost 4 hours in the park, exploring all the aviaries and trying to take pictures of the birds — more to follow later. But I did finally manage to get a decent picture of a wren. I’ve been occasionally trying to snap one around Sydney — though the wrens are different — but the cheeky buggers like to dwell in thick bushes, so it’s usually difficult to get a clear picture.

A splendid fairywren to be exact. (Alice Springs Desert Park)

Another point of interest in the park was their dingo enclosure, housing 2 purebred dingos, 8 or so years of age. I had never seen a dingo in person before and was always under the impression that they are dangerous. Turns out they’re good boys — curious but shy by nature. Unfortunately, very few purebred dingos remain — and some parts of Australia still consider them pests.

No way this good boy would eat anyone’s baby. (Alice Springs Desert Park)

Simpson’s gap, where we headed next, turned out to have a great return on investment in terms of effort it required and the view you get as a reward. Following a short walk from the parking lot, there is — at least at times — a small pond at the bottom of the gap in the mountain ranges, with very strong winds blowing through. Stunning place and very easy to see why Aboriginals consider it sacred. And one of those views that are hard to take a good picture of.

But not that hard to take a mediocre picture of. (Simpson’s Gap)

Following that we drove to Tennant Creek for our next stay. The trip was rather uneventful, though we did run into another fueling issue — the pump was set on prepaid while two Aboriginals were getting their own fuel — the servo eployees didn’t trust them to pay after refueling. I didn’t ask, but I can only hope they knew these specific 2 people rather than assuming that on the basis of ethnicity.

Day 11: Tennant Creek to Mount Isa

This was mostly a transfer day, not very eventful in itself.

Except for when a spinifex pigeon took out my license plate cover. (Barkly Highway, somewhere between Camooweal and Mount Isa)

Queensland Outback roads are definitely worse than most of the other roads on this trip. Any time the road crossed a tiny creek, you could expect a huge bump as the little bridge was either damaged or just not built right in the first place. A lot of the small bridges were also quite narrow — scary with a road train coming from the other direction — and there were parts where the shoulder was quite washed out.

It’s also a very empty area, but less of a desert and more of an endless plain (Barkly Highway, somewhere between Warumungu and Mount Isa)

One thing I didn’t take a picture of were the termite hills that littered the side of the road in many places. Quite thin and tall, there were tens of thousands of them along the road. Someone started a tradition of dressing them up in t-shirts and the like — ranging from worn out rags, through newer-looking shirts, all the way to hi-vis jackets and hats to match — and sure enough there were hundreds of dressed up termite hills along the way. Classic.

And in the absence of the termite hills, it was, again, very empty. (Barkly Highway, somewhere between Warumungu and Mount Isa)

Day 12: Mount Isa to Torrens Creek

Here we had to improvise a little. We were trying to get to Cairns in 2 days, but online booking options were rather limited, unless we were happy to split it into one day of 5 or so hours and one of 9. I ended up finding a little motel in Torrens Creek, close to the midway point. I had to call directly — like a caveman — and was greeted by a proper Queenslander, ending every sentence with ‘mate’. Upon meeting him in person, we found out he’s lived in the area his whole life — town of 70. The stay was decent enough, the pub feed surprisingly good and the internet non-existent.

And the road there leads through, surprise, more vast empty plains. (Flinders Highway, some distance west of Hughenden)

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Mount Isa itself is a reasonably sized town built around their mine — copper, lead, zinc and silver — and the refining industry that follows it. They refine the copper to 99.7% purity before shipping it off to Townsville for further processing. The smelter stacks look quite impressive as they tower over some of the main streets of the town.

They also have a lookout whence you can admire the industry in full. (Mt Isa Lookout)

Generally speaking, birds and mining have been the themes of the trip. So after a quick detour to lake Moondarra — in search of birds, of course, though we found a kangaroo and some lizards instead — we headed east. The road between Mount Isa and Cloncurry is quite picturesque, though we didn’t stop to take any pictures. Either way, onwards, to the abandoned uranium mining town of Mary Kathleen!

What remains of the town. (Mary Kathleen)

The town was abandoned in the early 80s, so what remains is some asphalt and leftover foundations. The land has been rehabilitated and is currently a privately owned farm — with access to the mine allowed, as well as camping. There were some cows wandering around and we even managed to get one of the calves some head pats.

It seemed mostly indifferent. (Mary Kathleen)

Since the town turned out to be just asphalt and foundations, we soon left in search of the actual uranium mine. It turned out to be about 7 kilometres of very poor roads — mostly narrow dirt, with some Swiss cheese style asphalt mixed in. Along the way, we had a little adventure — we stopped to take a picture of a large lizard and the cheeky bugger escaped into the wheel well of my car and didn’t want to leave. I resorted to starting to roll very slowly to give it time to escape before it gets crushed. A few kilometres later, we reached a spot which we deemed unsafe to cross in my car and continued on foot for another kilometre and a half or so.

And we were rewarded with a view. (Mary Kathleen)

I’ve been to several lookouts overlooking open cut mines, but this one was the most impressive I’ve seen, especially since you can walk all the way down to the lake.

There are signs prohibiting swimming or drinking the water, though. (Mary Kathleen)

Since all the uranium has been mined out, the area rehabilitated and civilian access allowed, I reckon I should be safe in terms of radiation. If Chernobyl didn’t give me a third arm, I don’t think this will either. On the way, we bumped into a few camels, then continued on towards Torrens Creek.

Day 13: Torrens Creek to Cairns

Another one of those days that are mostly about getting to the destination.

And another road picture. (Somewhere between Torrens Creek and Townsville)

Two things that stood out this day was the extremely heavy rain — and drivers who can’t fathom turning on their tail lights when visibility drops to 30 metres — and how beautiful the area around Cairns is. The road itself goes through rather flat terrain, but it passes right by the tallest mountain in Queensland. The mountains gave me somewhat Hawaii-ish vibes.

Day 14: Kuranda

Kuranda is a village neighbouring Cairns. There are several ways of getting there — including a historical train and a cable car — but due to time constraints we decided to just drive. There were 3 locations we were interested in — Birdworld, Koala Gardens and Butterfly Sanctuary. Mum was most interested in Koala Gardens, myself, naturally, in Birdworld.

Mum has been craving Koala hugs for the whole trip. (Koala Gardens, Kuranda)

Now for anyone not in the know, koalas are actually bloody horrible beasts. Dumb as a bag of bricks, typically chlamydia ridden, and don’t get me started on how they gain the ability to digest eucalyptus. That being said, seeing a baby koala hug it’s mum was pretty damn cute, and their fur is softer than I expected (though nowhere near as soft as a baby alpaca — which I’ll get to in a few days).

Look at this little dude. (Koala Gardens, Kuranda)

Birdworld was great — heaps of parrots, small and large, some waterfowl and a cassowary. A lot of the parrots were very happy to interact with people — and a bag of bird food you can buy at the entrance definitely didn’t make them less keen, though the bigger ones tended to only allow hand feeding (except for eclectus parrots). The handlers told me that one of the macaws sometimes gets in the mood to land on a visitor, but that the other birds prefer not to get that personal.

A magnificent chicken. (Birdworld, Kuranda)

The eclectus and I shared a moment. (Birdworld, Kuranda)

Yup, this place was like Disneyland to me.

Even though the blue guy bit a mole on my neck hard enough to cause bleeding. (Birdworld, Kuranda)

The last spot was the Butterfly Sanctuary and — as we have been warned (thanks Bec!) — it was rather disappointing. The butterflies were beautiful and some of them giant, but there weren’t too many of them. I’ve definitely been to better ones before.

Still a pretty cool guy though. (Butterfly Sancturary, Kuranda)

Day 15: Daintree

While in Cairns, we decided we should also have a look at the famous Daintree Rainforest.

We started off by going on a crocodile cruise. We saw 4 crocodiles, including 3 fully grown ones and a tiny baby croc.

The cruise on the river was relaxing and the plant life very lush, housing some cool birds that we managed to spot.

Nesting papuan frogmouth. (Daintree River)
After the cruise, we headed deeper into Daintree and here my thoughts are mixed. The forest is absolutely beautiful and amazingly lush — but you kinda get the feeling that everyone wants to fleece you.
First they make you pay 45 bucks for a return ferry ticket. 45 bucks! Being used to Wisemans Ferry near Sydney — which is free — I was shocked.
Next they make you pay 37 bucks per person for entry to the Discovery Centre. And it’s not even a guided tour — you just get a little ‘phone’ that you can press buttons on to listen to what they have to say. It’s beautiful, but I reckon twice as expensive as it should be.

I don’t even wanna think about who lives here. (Daintree Rainforest)

Mount Alexandra Lookout. (Daintree Rainforest)

I’m not quite sure if these count as mangroves. (Cape Tribulation)

Day 16: Cairns to Paluma

This is the first day that we markedly started heading back towards Sydney. With heavy hearts. But since the drive to Paluma isn’t too long, we took a detour through Atherton. The area around it turned out to be picturesque rolling hills. In Atherton, we stopped for a delicious brekkie in a lovely cafe, with seating in old converted rail cars adjoining the rail trail.

Atherton is also home to a large collection of minerals, arranged for display in an artificial cave. While the cave doesn’t exactly feel real, it does add some interesting flavour to the rock displays.

Like this sliced opal. (The Crystal Caves, Atherton)

It also has a particularly chonky amethyst cluster, though at the time of writing — 6 months later — I don’t remember how exceptional it actually is.

Taller than your average human. (The Crystal Caves, Atherton)

And so very purple. (The Crystal Caves, Atherton)

Further along the way, we did a quick stopover at Hinchinbrook Lookout before actually heading to Paluma. The last bits of the road were beautiful — narrow, winding mountain road, shrouded in mist. The stay in Paluma was also among the best, in a cabin in the woods, with a fire pit that the owners helped us start. The wood was moist and it took a few attempts, but the evening was lovely.

Another pretty sight. (Hinchinbrook Lookout)

Day 17: Paluma to Emerald

Very much just a transit day. Hardly took any pictures. It didn’t come without a stressful bit though. We were running low on fuel — and actually took a 20-ish km detour in order to refuel with more of a margin of safety — and the roadhouse turned out to be closed that day. We panicked a little, as roadhouses in rural Queensland aren’t very common, but we decided to push on and just wait for help if we were to actually run out. We ended up making it to the next servo with about 4 litres left in the tank, which translates to about 40 km in the wrx. Cutting it way too close for comfort.

Day 18: Emerald to Bundaberg

Emerald and its surroundings are famous for their gemfields. We went fossicking for sapphires, just a few days after the rains had washed away the top layer of the soil and some lucky bugger found a sapphire worth over $12,000.

Ourselves? No luck. Couldn’t find a single one. We resorted to buying a bucket of dirt guaranteed to contain some sapphires, and even then we struggled to identify them and needed some help with it. I guess I won’t make a career out of fossicking.

The small chunks we found are likely worthless, although the local cafe / mineral store runner said one of them might be big enough to cut it.

Again, not many pictures from this day.

Day 19: Bundaberg to Noosa

Bundaberg is most renowned for its rum distillery. We took a tour of the place — I reckon it’s very much worth the money, considering that apart from an hour-long tour you also get 2 drinks of your choice from their selection of rums. I’m not much of a rum drinker, although one of the rums was pretty damn smooth.

The distillery doesn’t allow to bring in any electronics to avoid a fire, which they have had enough of in the past, so no pictures allowed. The whole place reeks of molasses and alcohol. The tour is interesting and the guides funny.

We also stopped at a strawberry farm to pick our own strawberries and were greeted by two very good boys. Strawberries themselves were delicious, though probably a bit overpriced.

Just look at them. (Unfortunately, I don’t remember which strawberry farm it was, Bundaberg)

Afterwards, we headed towards Noosa. Noosa is quite beautiful, although it turned out to be more of a tourist trap than we would like. It is located right next to Mount Tinbeerwah, though, which happens to have a lookout that is open around the clock — relatively unusual in Australia — and offers 360 degree views of the area. We arrived there around sunset, then departed for dinner in Noosa, then came back for some night photography. Mum was hesitant to climb to the lookout in the dark, but I managed to convince her and she loved it — thanked me for taking her there afterwards. No worries, mum!

I like sunset silhouettes. (Mount Tinbeerwah)

Hope the random couples don’t mind me taking these pics. (Mount Tinbeerwah)

Day 20: Noosa to Maclean

After a quick visit to one of the Noosa beaches, this was also very much a transit day. Unfortunately, we decided to go through Brisbane, which was a huge mistake. Traffic jams cost us 2 hours. We got to Maclean and basically went straight to bed.

Day 21: Maclean to Tamworth

Jacarandas, waterfalls and baby alpacas.

We started the day by visiting Grafton, which is famous for its Jacaranda Festival — and the festival was, naturally, the point. Around the beginning of November, the 1700 or so jacaranda trees are in full bloom and it is a sight to behold. A single tree can be the highlight of a view, with its ocean of purple flowers, but hundreds of them placed in a row put a giant smile on your face.

The festival attracts crowds, and crowds sometimes bring peculiar individuals. In this case, we ran into a family travelling with their baby alpaca. Yes. A two month old alpaca wearing a god damn hat. Won’t your heart just melt. You can’t even fathom the softness. You bet I’m gonna post 3 pictures of it in a row.

The cutest thing you’ve seen all year. (Grafton)

Having left Grafton, we headed up Waterfall Way. It’s a road that runs directly past 2 relatively large waterfalls, with more waterfalls in the immediate area, and it ends at Dorrigo, which also has a waterfall. Since we travelled around the time of quite heavy rains — in fact, while in Queensland we were a little worried if northern NSW roads aren’t going to be blocked by flooding — the flow was heavy. We didn’t manage to take any good pictures of it, but there was a platypus playing in the pond at the bottom of the falls.

Dangar Falls. That tiny black dot to the left of where the water crashes into the pond? The platypus. (Dorrigo)

Headed for Tamworth, we took a quick detour near Walcha to see Apsley Falls. I’ve seen them thrice before, but this time the flow was the heaviest. The picture doesn’t really do them justice. It’s an absolutely amazing sight to behold.

This is the first of two stages of the falls. (Apsley Falls)

There are multiple lookouts — and a walk around — that help appreciate the size of the gorge. The picture below shows the depth of it after the water drops down the second stage of the falls. Normally water can’t be seen here, as it travels under the rocks, but the flow was heavy enough for some of it to show. Note how tiny the trees are.

We stopped at Tamworth for the aforementioned burger and a night.

Day 22: Tamworth to Sydney

After having the burger again — this time for breakfast — we decided to stop by the botanic gardens.

Just some close ups. (Tamworth Botanic Gardens)

The gardens are also right next to a little picnic area, as well as the local miniature railway. We got lucky and it happened to be a day when they actually run the railway. We did two loops around the track, which took about 5 minutes. No good pictures of it, but it’s the type that’s large enough to sit on like on a motorbike. Good fun.

We headed back to Sydney via Thunderbolts way, giving us the last few nice views before getting back to the city.