Sunday - Mungo to Broken Hill

Sunday – Mungo to Broken Hill

We awoke from our lovely last evening together and after the ritual trip to the pit loo, were delighted to see that a whole lot of emus – 6 in total had decided to give us a farewell gift of a wander through the camp. Arriving back from the loo, head in neutral, I quickly smartened up and scrambled into the van as undisturbingly as I could, to wake my husband.

Emus! Outside! Quick! Where are the car keys so I can get the cameras!! Stumbling, half asleep spouse crashed down the step (amazingly not scaring them off) to the van only to quickly snap to attention realizing what was happening. Cameras out of the car and we were snapping away at these noble creatures - which seemed to be having some social problems within their ranks. One emu kept having a go at another one - obviously males jostling for position in rank. They picked and wandered and looked and came really close. It was awesome! Then they wandered over to Wendy and Pat’s. Wendy only had a small compact camera so I hope they got some photos. Pat perfected the ‘emu stance’ to see if they would come even closer.

He did this the day before. Wendy and Pat left before us at the visitors center on our 75km trip and arrived at the dunes well before us. They were privileged enough to witness a group of emus venture across the dunes. Lucky buggers. The photos that Wendy got of the emus with their shadows against the dunes were amazing. Almost wish that we were there at the same time. Anyway. On top of the main dune, and in seeing the emu, Pat decided to stand like an emu to see if they would get any closer. He placed both legs together, stood upright and pointed his hand like an emu face. It must have worked as the emu got very close to them. We named him the Emu Whisperer after that!

The emu seemed to know that campers often throw out nice things to eat. Not the ones that are there, but the ones that have left. They had a nice graze. We all roused about and stirred our fires and got a nice lot of toast going again – which Greg was thoroughly thankful for as it saved him from cut up fruit. We packed up our van. We didn’t really want to leave.

We said goodbye and see you soon to our nice neighbours – and vowed to stay in touch. It was  bit sad but on to the next adventure. Wendy and Pat had been talking to Ernest the day before and he advised them that the road between Mungo and Wentworth was better maintained than the road we were planning to go so we all went that way. First though we decided to have another shower at the visitor centre. I hate feeling grotty.

We packed up the van saving our toiletry stuff, towels and change of clothes out and headed to the hot showers of the visitors centre. Showered, clean and sparkling we set out down the dirt road back to Wentworth to pick up ‘supplies’ before our treck to Minindee National Park.

On the way, since I was driving I asked Greg to turn on my mobile phone and quickly phone his Mum to tell them we were ok. He usually phones her on a Saturday anyway. He could not get on to his mum so he phoned his sister who we had met the weekend before in Bendigo with the Dutch cousins. What came next was just awful.

They had arrived back in Melbourne on the Sunday evening and departed again on Monday bound for Phillip Island to see the fairy penguins. On the way home from that they had a terrible car accident. Some DICKHEAD talking to his dog in the car ran head on into Janece and coming the other way. There was no way she could avoid it. The smash was so bad that the police were expecting dead bodies and were surprised that all had survived. Ambulances took them all to hospital. Janece had multiple cuts and bruises from the shattered windscreen, Corine had broken ribs and poor Henny had to stay in hospital with suspected internal injuries. What a horrible thing to happen to anyone. We were really upset, especially Greg. We were so grateful that they were all right really and there must have been an angel watching over them. All are out of hospital now and walking wounded around the house. The insurance should cover most things. Corine and Henny were supposed to fly out soon so we are waiting to see if their airline can give them an upgrade to first class as sitting in an aircraft in economy to Holland would be torture – or delay their travel for a week to 10 days.

After the news I, Greg got really upset and we just popped into the club for lunch. It was a huge choice or roast or roast – so we had the roast, not that we felt much like eating.

I left Greg in the car listening to the football and recovering from the shock what had happened and went to the IGA supermarket to get some bits and pieces. We didn’t know whether we wanted to stay the night in Wentworth or high tail it into Broken Hill. While I was in the supermarket I phoned Janece to see if she wanted us there. We were also quite prepared to go to Melbourne to lend support – although the situation was already full of people and I didn’t know whether two more would add to the confusion or be helpful. There was nothing we could do  - all they had to do now was heal and we could not help with that. Janece had lots of help with her two sons in their early 20’s and her husband who had been just fantastic. She said that she appreciated the thought and would like a really gentle hug but it could wait. I understood and promised to send messages every day so they could share what we were doing.

My parents had a head on car crash 2 years ago and the news just bought it all back to me. Their injuries were a bit worse and ongoing but all those feelings – panic, concern OMG - came back just like it was yesterday. The injuries can go away but the psychological trauma stays a lot longer. People should keep their mind on the road when they are driving. Never mind the dog/phone whatever.

I paid for my purchases after taking eternity to find what I needed – everyone sets out their supermarkets differently. Can never find a jolly thing. I got back to the car and asked Greg what he wanted to do. “Go to Broken Hill” was the tern reply. I started the car and we towed the little camper out of Wentworth and on to Broken Hill. The sun was already starting to set. We would be driving into the sun right on dusk which was not the best time to be driving as the wildlife in its abundance has high activity at that time and we didn’t want to hit any of it.

As usual, down the road a bit I needed to stop for the loo and we reluctantly pulled up near an enviro toilet. Unfortunately it was very enviro smelling too. Hold your nose and do your best to get out of there ASAP! However it was not far from a little driveway to the Darling River. The Darling is flodded right up to its banks and trees are waterlogged by it. It was really nice and if we had had a van with a loo – as no way I was going to the enviro loo again – we would have. After visiting the same loo, Greg agreed.

It was so peaceful and nobody around except for one other caravan – very tempting. But press on we did and Broken Hill we went – Greg drove this time as I was getting tired.

We drove into the sun, squinting, looking out for wildlife and listening to some music to cheer us up. Trouble was, the visitors centre in Wentworth was shut and we really needed a book on Broken Hill to tell us where the caravan parks were. We had to rely on my phone. It was dark when we got to broken hill and there were no signs about caravan parks on the way in. KFC, Hungry Jacks and radio stations yes but not caravan parks. Then my phone told me the caravan park was on Rakow Street and that, according to Mrs GPS, didn’t exist. Useless woman. So I then had to navigate, and give directions to Greg through my phone.

Several heated discussions and u turns later, we pulled up into a very busy caravan park – exhausted. The people at the Top Tourist Park were just fabulous and sympathetic and must be used to seeing train wreck people come in all tired from travelling – so I was very grateful to the nice lady at the counter who booked us in very quickly and kindly.

She drew on a map where our site was, we found our spot, squeezed in between a heap of others. At once we missed the bush and our lovely camp at Mungo. You could hear traffic as we were on the Barrier Highway, there was industrial engines that went all night, people had TV’s going, dogs from the neighborhood barked and now and again a kid howled. City life SUCKED!

The other thing that sucked was that the caravan light no longer worked so we had to wear our petzel torches on our heads to get light. No matter, we thought, its probably a globe and it can be replaced tomorrow.

We fixed ourselves some toasted sandwiches – Greg fished our sandwich press from the back of the car, had a few wines and hit the sack.

Thanking God that Greg’s family were alive and not badly injured.