One thing we have learnt, amongst many in a life on the road, is that the early bird certainly does catch the worm when it comes to site selection at free camps or those where bookings are not taken. At these it is very much a case of first in best dressed (no more clichés for today, I promise!)
We knew that our destination of Camooweal, just this side of the QLD/NT border, was just such a place where weary travellers heave to either behind the roadhouse or at the pub. We had received conflicting reports about both, so it was an early start out of Mount Isa for us. Mind you, after our jolly at the Buffs Club the night before, this was a challenge! My mate Andy did note with a grin that my water bottle was getting a workout as we hitched up. Given his prominent role in my early morning state, I thought this observation was less than charitable to say the least.
But needs must, and off we went onto the Barkly Highway and into the rolling hills of the Waggaboonyah Range (easy for you to say) west of The Isa
and on to the grassland plains beyond along the longest 'main street' in the world. Camooweal is officially administered from Mount Isa and is considered to be an outlying suburb, hence the argument that the Barkly Highway between the two is actually the main street of both. Given that this part of the road was built during WW2 specifically for troop movement, it is also know locally at 'Tojo's Highway'.
Our planned journey for this day was of a modest 188 kms only. We were in touring mode. This may have been just as well. We had company on the way. This was not the first cattle drove we had encountered in our travels. The drought in this part of the land has forced many station managers to move their beasts to better pastures in varying locales.
As we made our way closer towards Camooweal, the horizon just seemed to stretch further and further away
but then we were on the approach into town where, as we drove past the caravan park at the pub, we decided that the roadhouse had to present a better option. We were right.
Liz came out of the shop with the news that the good folk of Camooweal Roadhouse Inc had been pouring the water onto their grass. Hmmmm, I'll believe that when I see it, I thought. As we drove to the back of the roadhouse, I became a believer.
What an oasis this proved to be.
We made a site selection based on shade rather than grass (although we did have a veritable lawn behind us) and set out to explore this tiny outback town. In Camooweal, this does not take long.
The roadhouse is situated at the western end of the main street which, as is to be expected in these outback towns, is the highway. And, as is also expected, the humour of the outback was not too far away as this sign on the roadhouse wall demonstrates. It faces those who are coming into Qld from the Northern Territory!
And, as if one needed a reminder of the fact that Camooweal is remote, this, also on the roadhouse wall.
The main street is not long, as seen here looking west along it. It is home to all the usual suspects,
including the general store/post office, sevo,
and the local pub, which from outward appearances is a real outback gem, but once inside one enters a world of laminex, stainless steel and tiled floors. What a disappointment. We were, however, amused to find that dotted around the bar area there were laminated lists of those wayward locals who were banned indefinitely from darkening the pub's doors. The 'George' family were the standout winners with five of their tribe featuring on the list. God only knows what the George home is like on a hot evening!
Our wanderings around the wide and open streets of Camooweal, much of which reminded us a great deal of Boomi where we had luxuriated in the hot springs some five months previously, took us past the local police station (we did hear the local plod in Camooweal had his occasional busy times!)
and the school, which surprised us with its size. I suspect the local school bus has quite a daily run.
We were disappointed that the 'museum' which is housed in the old Freckleton's General Store, was not open,
but at least we could still experience the original flagged footpath which has been retained in front of these buildings. As we picked our way along I had visions of the travails this type of path would have presented to our forebears as they made their way home after a particularly long evening in the local watering hole. I suspect blood was spilt on more than one occasion (and that's before they opened their front door!)
I must say Camooweal was a place which actually fitted my preconceptions to a large degree. Dry, open, dusty and very, very outback Queensland. And it presented us with our first, albeit not completely spectacular, outback sunset.
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