Travelling to Adelaide from Alice Springs

Most of us who live at Alice Springs agree; you have to get out of the place at least for a week or two every year. Why? Because The Alice is a small, isolated township (Population 25,000), with limited retail opportunities and the sights, although beautiful, are visible 24/7/365. We simply need an occasional change of scenery, climate, and some retail therapy. 


When you go to the "Big Smoke" there are many more retail opportunities, some different sights and sometimes the beach. The nearest beach to Alice Springs is at Adelaide 1500 km away, so it's not a weekend run, but okay for a week or so.


This week we are visiting Adelaide for two reasons; to visit the annual Caravan, Four Wheel Drive and Camping show and also to have a break from the rigours of work and sameness of Central Australia.


The drive down the Stuart Highway can be fairly monotonous, especially when you've done it a couple of hundred times. You spend hours just watching the same type country flick by at 130 km/hr in the Territory and 110 km/hr once over the South Australian border. On this trip, I thought I'd focus on some of the signage and a bit of geographical/historical background for readers ... something a little different.


The northern or outback parts of South Australia are known to be part of the driest state in Australia. Much of the land mass is covered by salt lakes and the high salt concentration excludes in some places and limits in others, the type of vegetation. The rectangular shaped state can be divided into three distinct parts. The southern third, much of which is is a green belt with good tree and grass growth and where most of the population lives. The capital city of South Australia, Adelaide is in this area. From Port Augusta north, the land has fewer trees and growth and much of it is what we call gibber plains (flat plains with rocks lying across the top). North of Coober Pedy (these are very approximate descriptors) there are thousands of square kilometres of short, native trees that get by on small amounts of water.


Coober Pedy is world renowned for its opal fields and also some other recent mining ventures which I am told are copper mines under development. It's a dry, dusty place with a thriving population of miners and public administrators. Many of the residents live underground and there are several underground hotels/motels that tourists flock to for the experience. Further south and east of Pimba is Roxby Downs and one of Australia's uranium mines.


In the middle of the gibber plains exists a huge area of Commonwealth (government owned) land that forms the Woomera Rocket Range (a woomera is a stick used by Aborigines to help add distance to their spear throwing). During the Fifties our friends the British exploded at least one nuclear bomb in the area irradiating a large area and a few Aborigines who had missed being gathered beforehand. The land is still radioactive and therefore declared as a Prohibited Area by law. Thousands of rockets were fired all about the place as the Defence Department tested them. Some of the infrastructure is still left standing.


Strangely, as you drive along the Stuart Highway you find that a part of it has been turned into a runway for the Royal Flying Doctor Service aircraft to land and take off, presumably to meet ambulances carrying injured from traffic incidents. Most traffic incidents are roll-overs when people doze off at the wheel. In an effort to counter people driving for extended periods, nice little stopping places are provided by the governments. Some have toilets, sheltered covers and water and a few barbecues. At the end of day, groups of caravaners stop for the night and sit about sipping merlot and pina colado ... or maybe tea and coffee.


Double click on the photo strip at left to see a few things I saw enroute.


Robin

Australia Day 2012

Tomorrow is Australia Day, the day in 1788 when the British Navy fleet of 11 ships landed in what is now called Botany Bay near Sydney, New South Wales.

I've often tried to imagine what it must have felt like to have been sent from your homeland to travel for months to some part of the world about which nobody knew very much at all. If things turned bad at any part of the voyage, it wasn't as if you could jump on the next Emirates airplane and head home within hours. Many of those who arrived in Australia would never have seen their homeland again. There were no houses, no hospitals, no schools, just three million odd square miles of native scrub and of course the original inhabitants, the First Australians who had arrived from Africa thousands of years earlier.

It could have been the Japanese, Dutch, Portugese, French or perhaps a handful of other nations' people that arrived to take over Terra Australis. Whoever it was would no doubt have created the same negative impact on the native occupants, but we are indeed fortunate that our roots are British. From the "Old Country" we inherited a robust system of law, democracy and governance that has served us well for the past 200 years and will serve us well for a bit longer until it is subsumed by a foreign totalitarian regime that is working to undermine Australian values as I write. Our failing is that we are too democratic and too nice.

The British flag (Union Jack) on our flag shows our roots; the Southern Cross the star pattern visible in the Southern Hemisphere. The Federation Star, directly below the Union Jack has a point for each of our States and a point for the two Territories, the Australian Capital Territory and the Northern Territory.

For the first time in years we have nothing planned for tomorrow, but when we wake up we will no doubt have a breakfast of fruit juice, pikelets, golden syrup, coffee, and reflect on how very fortunate we are to have been born Australian.

Robin
 

Christmas Day Was Almost Spectacular

We had a very pleasant Christmas Day 2011, with the sole exception that our grandson Tory wasn't with us. Had he been present, it would have been a spectacular day.

However, as I cooked roast lamb, chicken and pork in our backyard barbecue amid a 39C temperature, I couldn't help but ponder how inappropriate many of the traditions brought to Australia by our English forefathers were in our climate. Roast dinner in the Central Australian heat? I wonder.
With the rather hot outside temperature and lack of breeze, we decided to have lunch inside in airconditioned luxury. Around midday we untabbed our first cans of beer and blew the cork off a bottle of Moet Champagne for the women. (Real men don't drink campagne ... and it tastes terrible too).

The meat was cooked to perfection, but some of the vegetables were slightly overdone. Not to worry, we managed to have a lovely feast from about 2 pm and topped off the roast, vegetables and salads with two different types of cheese cake. Nobody complained about the food.

Friends Tina and Vivek had also contributed some Indian food, some of which, because I can never recall the name which sounds something like the politically incorrect gollywog, I call mystery bags. Whatever they are called, they are very tasty and usually come with an equally tasty sauce.

Incredibly, my total alcohol intake for the day was two cans of beer (1 x 500ml, the other 375ml) and a large glass of red wine. I can't recall a time in the last few decades when I have consumed so little at Christmas. I really must get a grip of myself before I become a teetotaller.

Above are photos of Dale and me with the vegies and Christina and Meredith taking a break from preparing something in the kitchen.

We hope you had a lovely Christmas Day too.

Robin