FROM GALAHS TO SPAS - GULARGAMBONE TO BOOMI (VIA WEE WAA) (19 - 22 APRIL 2017)

After the update, it's back to the highway. Well in the case of this split leg from Gulargambone to Boomi (with an overnight in Wee Waa), four of them in fact, the Castlereagh, the Kamilaroi, the Newell and the Carnarvon. 

Some of what is to follow for the next few instalments covers ground we've previously traversed, and as is my practice I'll not be rattling on in as much detail as usual. But I shall try to provide some references to my yarns about our previous visits for those who may be interested.

After the absolute hoot that was our time spent at Gulargambone, it was something of a wrench to leave, but we had places to go and people to meet. As the early morning shadows were still striding across the blacktop we made our way out of camp and back onto the Castlereagh for the first leg of today's relatively short journey.

No travel through this part of the country should exclude the luxury of wallow and splash in a hot artesian spa, but after our experiences at the crowded 'resort' park in Moree last year, we were firm in our joint view that the tiny town of Boomi, which we had visited in May 2013, offered much more of what suited us. 

Here we have a large hot pool, a very well maintained 20 metre cold lap pool (complete with lanes......for any of you who swim seriously, you will understand what a boon these are), delightful surrounds, a fine cafe and take-away shop and absolute peace and quiet. It is as good spot as any we have found for a few days of serious R &R. From our perspective the only question to be asked about Boomi is, "what's not to like?"

We had planned a three day stop-over here en route to our selected Anzac Day destination for 2017, Toowoomba, but had also decided that the 425 km leg between the galahs and the spas demanded an overnight comfort stop. Given that we had already stayed at Narrabri, two options presented themselves, the free camp at Pilliga Bore or the cotton town of Wee Waa. We chose the latter, and as we found later, this proved a very interesting choice.

Our initial foray out onto the Castlereagh was completely uneventful, but we had travelled only a short distance before the highway became a 'long paddock'. For once the roadside signs which warned of 'cattle on road' were absolutely accurate. 

We have always been wary after passing one of these, and today our caution was well founded. Most of this very large herd was well off the road when we first spied them, 

but this soon changed and we slowed to a crawl.

These bovine beauties are not know for their road sense, particularly when there are calves or poddies at foot. We have previously seen alarmingly sudden dashes from one side of the road to the other, for no apparent reason. We were on high alert. Sure enough, with a plodding progress which displayed complete disdain for our presence, these two chose to exercise their legal right of way irrespective of our approaching bulk.

Slowly making one's way through a large press of cattle can be somewhat unnerving, knowing that at any time even a gentle nudge from the head or horns of one of these lumbering beasts could result in significant panel damage to the Cruiser or the van, but today's progress was fortunately uneventful.

Once clear of the herd the accelerator was again depressed and in no time at all we found ourselves on the approach into the main street of Coonamble.

This cropping and cattle service hub is famous for the death of the bushranger John Dunn (the last of the notorious Ben Hall gang) in late 1856 at the hands of the hunting police, and much more latterly as the host of the Southern Hemisphere's largest camp draft/rodeo. Our brief glimpses of the town as we passed through were enough to convince us that this would be a good spot for an overnight (at least) in the future. 

With the first 40 kms of our trip behind us, it was now time to farewell the Castlereagh and turn our heads north-east out along the secondary road which would take us the next 85 kms to Pilliga.

Like most things in life, secondary roads present advantages and disadvantages. In this case the absence of traffic was off-set by the narrow, and oft less than inviting surface, but we had expected this.

An uneventful hour later saw us passing through the outskirts of the small town of Pilliga, where we turned east towards Wee Waa. The well known Pilliga Bore, where a number of hot spas are available for use by the passing public parade, is a short distance out of town. As mentioned previously, we had seriously considered making this our overnight stopping point, but on the strength of the fact that we would soon be wallowing in Boomi, and had never been to Wee Waa, we chose to pass through.

From what we saw as we progressed, this proved a smart choice. The camping ground here

was absolutely humming with activity. This shot does little justice to what we saw.....the place was chockers....move right along rejoicing, Marshies!

We did just that, out through the cotton country which surrounds Wee Waa,

and on to our overnight destination, the Waioma Caravan Park. Mine host Bruce, in response to an earlier telephone call, had made it clear that finding a site would present no problems.

He was right. Despite the fact that I tucked up right next to this large bus (there were a number of reasons for this, shade being the most important), we had this end of the park virtually to ourselves.

We quickly discovered that this is a park with a difference. Bruce was nothing if not avuncular and could not have been more welcoming. In fact, his initial advice on our arrival about site choices also included an invitation to join him and others at the camp kitchen for happy hour later in the afternoon.

The camp ablution block is indicative of this park

with its quirky gender directional signs (although the interior could well use a touch up!), as is the camp kitchen but that discovery came later.











We first made a quick sortie into Wee Waa central for a small resupply and to refuel, but did not spend any time taking photos. I would describe the main street of this town of some 2,000 souls as pleasant if unspectacular. 




It does boast a main street clock tower and a decidedly grand hotel (an image of which I have filched with thanks from that grand fount of all knowledge, 'Wikipedia') but beyond that and a fine row of central trees, the Wee Waa CBD did little to arouse our excitement.

Wee Waa exists these days primarily as a cotton industry service town.  It officially vaunts itself as Australia's 'cotton capital', with the inherent implication that the scale of the industry here is greater than elsewhere. This is simply not true, and in what I find a rather sheepish 'postscript' in the official blurb, it is acknowledged that this descriptor relates to the fact that the cotton industry in Australia was first established in this region. Oh dear!

Irrespective of any attempted gilding of the tourist lilly, there is no doubt that the infrastructure of the town, with its large railhead, surrounding cotton fields and gins, commercial scale refuelling depots and so on, is certainly cotton focused, although the surrounding district does still support cropping and grazing, but to a far lesser degree than was the case in the days of original settlement.

After our quick flit into town, where I must say all with whom we came into contact in the several stores we visited could not have been more friendly and obliging, we repaired back to camp to take up the invitation to 'happy hour'.





As we wandered from our site down the park roadway past the heads and beyond the office to the camp kitchen, I have to confess we were more than a little curious to discover just what happy hour with the owner would entail.








It did not take long to find out. As we settled down in the delightfully ramshackle camp kitchen, complete as you can see with its own pool table, mine host, accompanied as always by a retinue of small dogs, was as genial as he had been on our arrival.

In no time flat we were nibbling on a more than acceptable sharp cheese and crackers (served with a genuine silver cheese paring knife) and enjoying a libation or two with one of the park permanents (a paralegal in nearby Narrabri), Bruce, and the park co-owner John, who had rolled up in what we found to be a most incongruous form of transport in this rather 'blokey' town.....a very flash Mercedes!

As is so often the case in circumstances such as these we had a rollicking good time and learnt much about the town, including the fact that 'the boys' have just bought one of its rundown old pubs with the intention of converting it into a backpacker lodge. Our comment...'good luck!'...although it has to be said that the cotton industry does attract hordes of itinerant workers during the picking season as we already knew.


We left Wee Waa bright and early the next morning, just a shade more regretfully than we had anticipated on arrival, and soon found ourselves on the Kamilaroi Highway (number two for this trip) travelling east towards Narrabri with the blue veiled bulk of the impressive and very interesting ranges of the Mount Kaputar National Park in the distant foreground.

Although this was to be the third time we had travelled through Narrabri we have not previously stayed beyond one overnight stay. Having now boned up a little more thoroughly on what is on offer in the district, particularly in the National Park, a much longer visit is now an inclusion on our 'to do' list.



As we made our way over the 40 kms towards Narrabri, the white clutter of roadside lint left us in no doubt that we were well and truly in cotton country and that the harvest was in full swing. 









And now for highway number three, the Newell, which was to be our black transport ribbon through the flat open paddocks north of Narrabri 









on to, and through Moree along its eastern by-pass road,

where we soon turned left onto the Carnarvon Highway which would take us to our final turn off in the small town of Garah.

As indeed it did. The railway silos of this grain district town were old hat....we had taken a break here on our previous trip to Boomi, 








and on this occasion we did the same again before venturing out onto Boonangar Road and our final 50 kms leg into the spa town we were so much looking forward to revisiting.

Fortunately we knew that this is a secondary road in every sense, bordering on what is known as a 'developmental' road. The need to scuttle off onto the verge to allow thundering road trains











and equally aggressive cotton trucks the right of unimpeded passage came as no surprise. This is indeed 'might is right' country.

What did take us back a little was another encounter with second herd on the 'long paddock'.















And of course, there was still 'always one'!

The 'reduce speed' sign which confronted us as we made our final approach into Boomi did give us a bit of a chuckle.....we had been virtually crawling along over what was a far rougher road than we remembered for the past hour or so.










It was with significant relief that we finally passed the town welcome sign,

wended our way along the short length of the main road through town which brought us to the Community Centre










and quickly set up camp in the small and seemingly somewhat barren Boomi Community Caravan Park.







We were well aware that this park does not provide either shade or grass, but that is a small price to pay for what else is on offer here.

With our small C-Gear floor providing good protection from the dirt and our outstretched awning giving us more than adequate afternoon shade, we established a perfectly comfortable base from which to wander next door to the spa and swimming pool.

And at this time of the year there is no such thing as a crowd at Boomi. Unlike Moree, this spot is just far enough off the beaten track to discourage many. That suits us fine, if for no other reason that that most who do head to Boomi are generally more adventurous and far more interesting to chat to than those who wail and wallow in their ageing hordes at Moree, telling the same stories of illness and woe over and over again to any who happen to be too close to politely escape! Ah, Boomi....how good it is to be back!

As is my want when revisiting, I've not included any more photos of the spa, the pool or the community cafe etc. These can all be seen in the relevant blog to be found in the archive of May 2013.

Suffice it to say here that despite the passage of just over four years, all was as we expected. The spa and pool are still meticulously maintained, the surrounds remain green and lush, and the cafe still serves what I would happily argue is the best value and quality hamburger and stunningly crisp chips to be found in the country.

We were interested to chat to the lass who acts as pool attendant, lifeguard, etc. etc. (still the same local) who made it quite clear that it is only because of us grey nomads making the effort to detour into Boomi that this tiny town can continue to offer the facilities it does, and at the ridiculously cheap prices charged.  

Long may this continue......we have now made a firm decision to revisit as often as possible and shall be making it one of our missions in life to encourage as many others as possible to do the same.