Hi from Nuriootpa


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Published: June 9th 2009
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A long way to the borderA long way to the borderA long way to the border

waiting for a bend in the road
We had a long drive yesterday. We left Mildura in the rain, entertaining campers no end as the motor home slid all around in the mud as we tried to drive up the next level of the caravan park. People were outside with umbrellas watching and offering advice - not a lot happens in caravan parks!

Once we'd finally left the park, we went into town and into Stefano’s cafe for morning tea and delicious cake. The shelves were full of breads, pasta, sauces and all sorts of interesting food in jars - I bought some Mildura pink salt and we also bought some tasty honey and beer sourbread. Attached is his bar and bottle shop and behind that, the art gallery which I think is managed by his wife. On the walls were canvases of all sizes with rubber 1” squares nailed all over them - all had red 'sold' stickers. His restaurant is in the Grand Hotel around the corner, which I think is owned by his in-laws.

It sprinkled on and off until we crossed the border into South Australia and it was sunny from then. The fruit fly inspector came into the motor home to make sure we weren't carrying any fresh fruit or veggies into the state so once past that checkpoint we were able to stock up again (and turn our clocks back half an hour). We've heard they're really strict about carrying fresh fruit, veggies and soil on the WA border so it looks like 'stock up on cans' when we're nearing there.

We arrived at Nuriootpa (understandably called Nuri by locals) and booked into the caravan park here. This time I was able to take better photos as the sun was shining on the 1931 motor home built by a local to travel to Queensland with his wife and three children - I love it and marvel at their travels on unsealed roads at the time.

Today will be a food and wine safari around the Barossa and maybe another visit to Maggie Beer's shop. We'll probably stay here another day and then it's all new territory as we head down the boot that is the Yorke Peninsular.

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