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Oceania » Australia » South Australia » Parachilna
August 18th 2008
Published: September 6th 2008
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A totally different proposition from our previous excursions into the world. Life has come to a crossroads with a redundancy, after 15 years of corporate existence and the next 8 months was the result. I’d had a lot of time “gardening” to hatch a plan. I don’t think we were looking to "find ourselves" or necessarily running away from anything - it was just an opportunity that presented itself and there was a desire to see if we could pull it off. There was no desire to discover a missing tribe (although we did encounter a long lost relation, that we didn't know about before we set off) and I didn’t want to spend the next few months worrying about getting robbed or worse. We settled on starting in Australia - it had been 11 years since we’d scratched the surface in Sydney, Melbourne and Cairns. There was one last fruitless for a similar employment source, which came to zero. In almost the words of a subsequent Australian songstress......."let's take the plane to anywhere....I want to feel the wind in my hair with....let's tell them as soon they'll know, how very wrong they were to think we'd never go"

The
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...only 24 hours until the next train
hard work started at that point. I’ve read countless forums on this site, about preparing for to go - how to save, sorting out the house, what to pack etc - but until you’ve made that decision to go, you don t realise just what is involved in putting your life as you know it on hold. I guess it took about 10 paces down the close with a heavy rucksack to put some doubts in Miranda’s mind - perhaps she should have left that extra pair of sandals at home. There were so many things to learn and adjust to leaving detached luxury for life as a backpacker - even getting on that first bus with your pack.

After a jetlag stop in Singapore, we flew into Adelaide. It was absolutely hammering it down. There was always a likelihood of the South Australian winter striking - it was the South Australian winter after all. We’d decided to break ourselves gently into hostel life, so we booked a cheap “apartment” in North Adelaide for a few days on the internet before we left. It soon stopped raining - we were only to see another couple of showers in the
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The first of many...
next 3 months.

We’d booked on an Adventure Tours overlander north to Alice, Uluru and Darwin, so we had 3 days to explore Adelaide. I’d a list of freebies prepared to indulge in, but my initial reaction was that we’d picked a good time to land with an exchange rate spiralling in our favour - I recorded £3 for steak pie, chip and a pint of Guiness in my notes in the Daniel O’Connell in North Adelaide. We saw our first possum in the tree outside and the skies seemed alive with galahs. We walked down to the Adelaide Oval - surely one of the world’s nicest Test venues. Jason Gillespie was bowling a few overs in the indoor nets - we were to see him again in the Boxing Day Test in Melbourne (and subsequently have bumped into him in locations as far apart as Launcestion on 2007 and Leicester in 2008). As a serial consumer of all sports venues, it was refreshing to see the lack of security - just walk in and have a wander round - but this was before John Howard joined George’s gang and raised the alarm back on home soil about the
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....maybe it should read for the next 4000 kms
“War on Terror”.

Adelaide has a population of 1 million, but as suggested in a well known guide book feels likes a large provincial country town. I have a strong recollection of a small compact city with fine old stone buildings and parks, laid out in a grid in the city centre. The Museum of Immigration was a worthwhile find and Miranda’s rucksack became heavier with the purchase of another Paul Frank t-shirt - Paul Frank is not your friend when he adds extra weight to your pack. The tram to the seaside suburb of Glenelg was a novelty, although it was a bit difficult to envisage the bronzing bodies in between the winter the squalls. The bars of Adelaide seemed to have undergone a recent refurbishment and we were surprised to see local trades folk passing up on the excellent Coopers refreshment on offer in favour of a large glass of Shiraz.

The gentle introduction came to an abrupt halt and we were up at the crack of dawn to await our pick up the drive north. We were eventually picked up an hour late by a bear of a man (who ironically we would meet 4
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The tram to the seaside suburb at Glenelg
years later in the expansive settlement of 80 Mile Beach in northern Western Australia), dressed in his driazabone. We headed north with 17 others. There was a range of nationalities and it was good that we weren’t the only over 40s. We drove through the Clare Valley, Melrose, Quorn (which was somewhat further south than the Leicestershire version, but no more interesting) and on to some aboriginal cave paintings at Yourambulla Caves.

We stayed at a bunkhouse by the Old Prairie Pub at Parachilna (whose permanent population seems to range between 2 and 5 depending on where you look for your information). In typical Aussie style, the barbie was soon up and running with a menu comprising of kangaroo steaks, emu burgers and camel sausages. The veggies ran for cover at this point, but other than the camel a hearty recommendation would be forthcoming from the author. Parachilna comprised of the pub with some more upmarket rooms, a few portakabins (described as a bunk house) and a railway line crossing. A coal train about 3kms long rolled through mid barbecue en route to Port Augusta. We subsequently saw a TV programme about how Parachilna has found fame and fortune
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Fossicking for opals
as a location for films (such as Rabbit Proof Fence and Gallipoli) and adverts. We retired to the pub, unaware that we found ourselves in such a centre of media activity.

An early start was the order of the day (and every other day), as we headed into the Flinders Ranges and a hike into Wilpena Pound - a huge meteor crater. The second night was spent in another bunkhouse at a sheep station at Rawnsley Park. It is noted from their current web site that there are now upmarket eco villas, although there is only a recollection of basic facilities, a camp fire (which one member of the group tried to nosedive into after excess alcohol intake) and some over toasted marshmallows. The number of roos around suggested that the sheep had vacated in favour our bouncing friends.

The third day “on tour” was another 4.30 start to cover the 700 kms to Coober Pedy via the Stuart Highway. The mob of roos was really out in force at that time of the morning, but despite their best efforts to bounce through the windscreen all were successfully evaded. It was a retracing of steps back to the main sealed road north near Port Augusta - I recall seeing a set of traffic lights and it would be a while before another set came into view……and then it was onwards through miles of nothing, more nothing and nothing thrown in for good measure. The scenery consists of nothing! Well that isn't strictly true, as frequently there will be road kill roo with an overfed wedge tailed eagle perched on top. There is surprisingly little road traffic - the odd road train and bizarrely the odd lone cyclist (inevitably Japanese) ploughing a weary furrow into a headwind in 40c.

We pulled into Woomera - formerly a major military base and a centre of British nuclear testing in the 1950’s. Woomera has the geographical advantage of being surrounded by a vast expanse of empty saltbush, which presumably was envisaged to be empty when the tests were carried out. A small of park full of obsolete military hardware stands as a reminder of Woomera’s past. The town has hit the headlines more recently as a detention centre for illegal immigrants - the geography being advantageous once more as it is a long walk to anywhere. It used to be a "closed" when the nuclear tests were being conducted and the signs of life were so limited, closed would be an apt current description.

We made an unscheduled stop for a puncture and a stop at Lake Hart - a salt lake off from the highway with mirage qualities - before pulling into Coober Pedy. The literal translation is apparently something like "white man's burrow"and that is exactly what they do - dig into the ground to form houses, businesses and find opals. It comes in handy to maintain a constant temperature when the 40 degree summer heat is blazing outside and the underground bunkers form a nice constant temperate zone. Who needs to build an extension when you can just dig another room? It certainly saves an extension on the mortagage. We stayed in an underground backpacker hostel, that I have to say was remarkably comfortable.

As a result of the underground nature of town, scenery is somewhat limited. There is a lot a scorched earth to see and mining debris. There is no green or any other colour - green is overated in the outback! We had a go at the local passtime of fossicking - bascally
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Glenelg Pier
scratching around for any stray opals that the professionals might have missed. Miranda found a worthless piece of quartz, which still added to the rucksack weight for another 8 months and now resides on a bookshelf and the next best find was a piece of glass bottle. We didn't fancy the sports ground - certainly not a "pitch" for the faint hearted and those averse to getting the odd grazed kness ..... Coober Pedy Aussie Rules team should be a home banker on your fixed odds! We dined on remarkably fine pizza at the overground John's Pizza and retired to our bunker for the night.








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The long and winding road............
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Aussie Rules footie in Coober Pedy - where home turf is something completely different
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Aboriginal cave paintings


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