Now there is not much to Daly Waters, but anyone who does not come here and have an absolute hoot of a time really needs to get out more!. But I'm ahead of myself....we are not there yet.
The caravan park at the famous Daly Waters Pub is very much a 'first come - first served' affair with a limited number of powered sites. We knew from recently received intelligence that the park was very dry and dusty, and the weather was hot.....air conditioning was going to be a must for us and more importantly, the Ship's Cat who comes complete with his fur coat.
We left Mataranka at first light and pulled out along the main street which was almost eerily empty of traffic.
As we passed the next highway sign it struck home to us that with our arrival back in Tennant Creek, a mere 560 kms away, we will have reached the end of our first complete lap of the country.
But there was still plenty to see and do before that. The tiny Stuart Highway town of Larrimah came and went, but as we passed through
we spotted the Larrimah Pink Panther Pub which accommodates passing vans. This could well be worth a visit on a later trip.
Daly Waters can present a small trap for young players. There are two caravan parks here. One is on the Stuart Highway (and, from reports from good travelling friends of ours who stayed there, it is excellent) but this is not the Daly Waters Pub. We knew to turn off The Stuart.
In no time we had arrived. Ye Gods! Dry and dusty it certainly is. Are we early enough to get a much sought after powered site?
We were. In fact we were the first arrival for the day. Mind you, it was only 0915 hours. Normally, after paying the site fee at the pub, a chap who lives in a van at the park gate mounts his old push bike, complete with stuffed horse on the handle bars, and directs newcomers to their patch. We did not have this experience....he was laid low with a very nasty bug, so the pub owner did the honours.
Again we recognised the benefits of an early arrival. Not only did we have power, we had the pick of a number of sites.....and here at Daly Waters this can mean the difference between plenty of 'elbow room' or a very cramped stay.
Ours was a cracker. To my great chagrin, some of the photos I took on our arrival have
suffered at the hands of those blasted hackers, but if you peer closely you will spot the cruiser and the blue kayak in third spot down this row of happy powered campers. This was taken an hour after our arrival...when we first dropped anchor we were only one of three vans here, and the other two had been here overnight.
Even as we were settling in, vans began lining up in the 'main' street
and around the corner in Daly Waters' only 'side' street.
Within an hour and a half the thirty powered sites were completely occupied.
New comers now had two choices....take unpowered or leave. Things had been pretty quiet in that section we we pulled in,
but this changed rapidly.
By mid-day the place was chockers. Goodness knows what these folk would have done without the shade trees which abound throughout the park. It reached 37 degrees on this day.
Some of the more hardy did not let that deter them from a spot of outdoor living. Mind you it was interesting to watch this gathering of the clan constantly shifting position as the shade moved with the sun.
In addition to the sites, the park here provides eco tent accommodation
and for those who want more creature comfort, a number of very well found cabins are just the ticket.
A very practical and sensible solution to the ablution requirements of those staying here comes in the form of a series of self-contained, stand alone 'dunny shacks' which were more than adequately equipped to provide for personal relief and a good scrub.
As soon as we had settled in we were off to get a feel for what Daly Waters had to offer. This does not take long. There is not a lot to Daly Waters. Opposite the entrance to the caravan park is the local art gallery which also serves as the book exchange, and (as you do in the bush)
is the spot from which weary travellers can obtain their supplies of that essential to a good life on the road (??)......jerky! Nothing like chewing down on a fine strip of jerky whilst browsing through the books or assessing the art on display.
Immediately next to the gallery is the Daly Waters outback servo. I think in this case
I'll just let the picture speak for itself. The one thing I forgot to do was check the fuel prices here....we had a good tank full and were not in need.
Come on.....where's the pub? After all that's why you are here. Well, this is what all the fuss is about. Sharing a common boundary with the caravan park (oddly enough) and almost hidden behind the striking bougainvillea vines
is the Daly Waters Pub (no-one, but no-one ever calls this an 'hotel'....that would border of bush blasphemy!)
Initially I couldn't believe how small it looked, a thought which did not diminish as I ensured
that at least one of us came away with 'that photo'!
But all is not what it seems. Once past the portals and this legendary building of the bush takes on the characteristics of The Tardis of Dr Who fame......it just keeps on expanding.
Let's begin in the bar which, as we had expected, is 'decorated' with an impossible jumble of reminders of patrons past. T shirts, knickers, bras, business cards, paper money, etc, etc.....as long as it is personal (and preferably clean) it's acceptable. This was The Lion's Den all over again, but much better.
There is not one square inch of the bar undecorated in some way or other.
The clutter and chaos extends well beyond the bar.
And then there are the signs, and as you know, I love a good sign, even if it provides little by way of useful advice!
Some have obviously been designed to educate our foreign visitors (and, sadly, from my perspective, an increasing number of Aussies) in our vernacular
whilst others are just plain funny.
And then there is this classic bit of nonsense. I was having a very good time already, and the festivities had not even begun.
The main dining area here at the Daly Waters Pub is outdoors. This later becomes party central.
The area can be conveniently accessed directly from the caravan park
and apart from all the tables and chairs, includes a stage
and, as far as the evening meal goes, the business end, the BBQ and serving area, quiet at the moment but a hive of activity later.
Despite the very contrived shambolic appearance of this pub, the operations side of things is very slick. Short term visitors, who come and go throughout the day in significant numbers, can refresh themselves with a cold frothy or a counter lunch, as can those in the park, but it is at night that the Daly Waters Pub really comes to life, every night of the season. We are all here to be fed, watered and entertained.
Like us, most of those who had pulled into the caravan park earlier were here for one night only (I would have stayed on for another, but the Treasurer's response to that suggestion was unmistakeably stern), and there were more than just a few of us. At a rough guess I would estimate that we were part of a crowd of about 150 or so who had descended on Daly Waters to have the night of our lives in the pub.
This all kicks of with the beginning of happy hour at the very appropriate time (for those who caravan) of 1630 hours, when the first of three entertainers got things underway with a varied selection of 60', 70's and 80's songs.
As you can see, he did have an audience. We were among some of the first cabs off the rank (I was determined to milk this for all it was worth) but by 1700 hours there was not a spare chair to be had.
We had the very good fortune to have acquired excellent park neighbours, two couples who were a touch new at this caravan lark and who had been very keen to pick my brains earlier about all manner of things associated with life on the road. To our great pleasure they joined us for dinner, and we were soon getting well into the swing of things.
Dinner here is served at 1800 hours. An A la Carte menu is available, but no-one bothers. The Daly Waters Pub is renowned throughout the land for its evening meal of 'Barra and Beef', a more than healthy serve of local, fresh, wild barramundi (and there is no other sort, believe me....I think I have already rattled on about the rotten farmed stuff) and a marvellously tender and tasty chunk of Northern Territory beef.
To manage the demand of all 150 of us fairly (and amazingly quickly), an evening meal voucher (for those who want one) is issued to each person on arrival and their names put on the meal list. Those who arrive first are fed first.
The pub owner and his trusty assistant get to work on the barby,
the plates are lined up on the bar, and it is on. Serve yourself chips and salads make for a meal to remember.
And guess who was called first? There are some decided advantages to an early start to the day.
Liz was even able to have a double serve of fish (she does not eat red meat) without quibble, and I can happily report that this meal more than lived up to its very fine reputation....simple, delicious, well cooked and more than adequate.
As we got stuck in, the lead troubadour continued to warble away
and our table companions were soon able to replace their looks and expressions of envy with their own marvellous platters.
Just as is the case with the meal, there is no stinting on the entertainment. As the feeding frenzy progressed, Mr 60's plus was replaced by a (apparently) well known country singer, who I must say was not bad at all.
By now, most meals had been served, the beer and wine was flowing (at very reasonable prices even after happy hour) and the joint was really beginning to jump. The country crooner was succeeded by a passable rock and roller (by now we didn't care too much about quality....noise and a good beat was all that counted)
and the girls were on the floor.
"Come on chaps, this will never do. Girls dancing together went out with bobby socks!"
Well, it was all down hill from here! 'Chuck Berry' rocked on for well over an hour,
and we all dropped fifty years or so in our minds (well In Liz's case only thirty) and did our best to make complete fools of ourselves on the dance floor (some more successfully than others...not that anyone cares at the Daly Waters Pub!)
We all drank, yarned, laughed and bopped on well into the night before staggering back across the park to our caravan cots. At one stage we even joined a conga line as it bashed and crashed its way through the tables and chairs....a conga line for goodness sake!!
And our conclusion? Despite the rather foggy feelings of the following morning we both agreed that this had been one of the highlight days of our adventure to date. Fine food, fun friends and a fantastic frolic.......the Daly Waters Pub had more than lived up to its reputation and our expectations and lies firmly on our 'must do again' list.
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