After five days staying with our friends in Whyalla, we turn left at the fork in the road and head towards Iron Knob. The red dust of this town is left behind as we pass a giant iron ore train rumbling alongside the road. The terrain is as flat as a pancake with low salt bush, and scatterings of trees on the sides of the roads. As we approach Iron Knob some 50ks later, still going in a straight line, you can see the top of the mountain has been sliced cleanly off. This is BHP territory, in the Second World War this ore was shipped to Britain to make military weapons. We went to the Anzac Day service in Whyalla on Thursday, which was very nice, and I silently thank our soldiers again for their
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