Consistent with our practice of always trying a new park where possible on familiar routes (unless we have a particular favourite...or have done them all!) we decided to give the SA Riverland park at Paringa a try for our penultimate night out of Adelaide. Today we shall be crossing two State borders.....we were almost 'home'.
And here was the first of them, a couple of hours' drive out of Balranald as we crossed the Murray River at Mildura from NSW into Victoria.
As you would by now expect, I've not included any highway photos on this leg.....we have done it all to death on several previous occasions, so I invite you to hop onto our magic carpet for this leg and fast forward to the second border for the day.
Just beyond this last State crossing for a couple of weeks, we pulled into the fruit fly check point at Yamba where, as old hands with nothing to declare (or hide), we were in and out in no time and sailing along under the odd but strangely welcoming 'Dunlop Tyre' which heralded the last few kilometres of the 300 we were to cover today.
We had taken a small houseboat out of the area many, many years ago when we completed our navigation of the river right up to the SA/Vic/NSW border and back. This had been a wonderful fortnight and the sight of the glorious colour of Headings Cliffs on this billboard created real feelings of nostalgia for us both.
But on this occasion we were in the 'land ship' and our overnight berth beckoned. We were somewhat bemused to read the postscript at the bottom of the park sign....'Best Little Park in Town'. Undeniable...it's the only one!
As we pulled in past the park aviary (it did contain some beautiful little finches and other most colourful birds)
and hove to at the office door under the largest driveway verandah we had ever seen, we soon discovered that the owner of this park is not retiring in the slightest when it came to selling the park, a gas refill (not needed just now, thank you) or the local pub. Suddenly the sign made sense.
After the sales pitch, mine host, who was more than affable, led yours truly to our assigned site for the night, along the entrance road,
past the pool and well set up camp kitchen
to the row we were to occupy, together with many others as you can see.
We had asked for a drive-thu, and although I was able to get on site from the back road, our request that we be able to stay hitched could not be met. The site was too short. But with its shade cloth annex matting, and bordering shade trees (not that we needed them on this occasion) we were more than comfortable.
We found ourselves conveniently positioned directly opposite the camp laundry and ablution block (where all was clean and functional),
an elevated deck which looked over our site
and the small patch of lawn between it and a few of the park cabins.
At the end of our row a number of on site vans, all utterly identical (job lot here, I thought) indicated to us that this park caters for the itinerant workers who flood the Riverland area during the various picking seasons.
This park sports cabins aplenty. One row could be found next to the park exit roadway
which led directly through a dryland park
to the Paringa Hotel
and small local shopping area just across the Sturt Highway.
With the river so close and the demanding need for a good gallop nagging at us, a hoof along the bank to the local houseboat moorings seemed just the right plan for what was left of this afternoon.
We soon found ourselves wandering through a lovely riverside park,
complete with this obviously very new public toilet block, the walls of which were made of blocks of the local sandstone laid in a most interesting pattern. This was indeed a dunny of distinction, a head ahead of the rest, no less!
Not too distant, a pretty little gazebo at the edge of a small lake offered shelter for a pleasant picnic, but we were not tarrying here.
I suspect that those of us who have spent considerable time on the river never get it quite out the system. Seeing what was the latest on the water drew us like moths to a flame along the houseboat moorings.
We actually recognised a number of the boats tied up here as some with which we have shared the river. All this brought back many memories, particularly as we looked upstream at the old Paringa road bridge.
We could clearly recall watching houseboats queueing upstream and down at the two set times during the day at which the opening span would be lifted to allow passage one way or the other. And, as late comers were quick to discover, the set time meant just that. On more than one occasion, as we raised an afternoon glass, smug in the serenity of our nearby river bank mooring, we had fun speculating about the conversations in the wheelhouses of boats which found their way inexorably barred by a firmly closed bridge.
And so, with recollections of a particularly pleasant part of our former life swirling, we meandered back to the caravan park before heading out for the evening.
Visitors to the Paringa Caravan Park are offered a discount voucher for the local watering hole, and we did take advantage of this in the pub dining room where the proffered munch not only had the advantage of having been cooked by someone else, it was of a more than acceptable standard.
As we pulled down the following morning and prepared to depart on the last leg of our return south to Adelaide, we did agree that the Paringa Caravan Park had been a fair choice, with one notable rider......the dirt roadways which run throughout.
It took little effort to imagine just how wretched this place could be on those hot summer days when the screaming northerly winds, the regular harbingers of a cool, south-westerly summer time change, would undoubtedly tear at the surface of these park roads and fling fine white dust in choking, all-enveloping clouds from which there would be little escape. At times like this, the grassy sites of the Renmark riverside parks would have far more appeal.
Morning brought us back to the Sturt Highway, which took us from the delights of the river to the rather barren plains which lie to the south between the Murray the line of hills which are a portend to the approach to the Barossa Valley and the city beyond.
Here, at this time of the year, at least the landscape was brightened with stands of flowering golden wattle, some of which transformed sections of the highway to into almost an avenue.
Yellow is certainly the colour of the month in this part of the South Australian countryside in September, when apart from the contributions of the wattle, the blooming canola crops paint great swathes across the green hillsides, as we saw here on the approach into Truro
and further on, in the Barossa Valley, where it and the budding vines
presented a perfect picture of spring.
The valley of fine wines and many past frolics soon passed us by, and as one of the last of the RAAF P3C Orion aircraft still in service came in low overhead like a great grey goose, flaps extended, on approach to the Edinburgh air base,
we too bled off speed and pulled in at yet another park which was a first for us, the Highway One Caravan and Tourist Park, situated not surprisingly on Highway One (otherwise known as Port Wakefield Road) in the outer northern Adelaide suburb of Bolivar.
Now Bolivar did not always bear a good reputation. It is home to one of the city's large sewerage treatment plants, and to say that the area surrounding this facility was oft enveloped in a miasma of misery is an understatement.
Fortunately, improved technology has now seen this atmospheric affliction become a thing of the past, and as we pulled up at the park office we did so quietly confident that our stay here would be pleasant as far as the air surrounding us was concerned, if nothing else.
Not that this mattered a great deal. We were here only for one night, more to check the place out than anything. The first thing we noticed was that it is not cheap, well particularly when compared to our normal Adelaide residence at Windsor Gardens, but again, as I said, one night only.
We had been told of the striking gardens in this park, and from the outset these were apparent as we made our way through the boom gate
and on down to the drive-thru site we had ordered
where, with a bit of juggling, we were able to remain hitched on the course gravel surface of this rather bare patch without either end hanging out to dry over the roadway.
We soon discovered that we were in the 'older' end of this enormous park, but looking across the roadway in front of our patch the foliage and gardens we had expected were certainly on show. This dense stand of trees actually screens the park pool
This was the first item on our list of things to find during a quick exploration of our new temporary home. A few metres along the roadway beyond our site
brought us to a pathway entrance which looked promising, not that there was anything here to indicate what lay beyond.
We plunged on into the forest and past the gardens which line this narrow path
and soon found ourselves looking out over one of the most charming pool settings we have ever come across. We could have been back in Far North Queensland.
With a poolside table and chairs just inviting a warm afternoon laze with a chilled bottle, we had no difficulty in imagining what a delightful oasis this would be in the heat of the summer, when many of the gravel van sites nearby would certainly be baking in reflected heat.
And we were soon to find that this was the first of two park pools.....but more of that shortly. From here we wandered down to the southern end of the park
which was pretty obviously 'permanent city'.
I did not count the number of those located here in the back end of the park, but it was substantial, and frankly, they were all tucked well away from all who arrive here as transients. This was clearly the application of the park management strategy of 'out of sight out of mind'.
In fact this park caters for a significant group who call it home on a full time basis, and whilst the standard of their accommodation does vary considerably (this was one of the more commodious homes)
one theme remains constant.....gardens and greenery.
Everyone here makes an effort and the results are obvious.
The park gardens remain a work in progress along this row of cabins,
but others, seriously flash, stand in complete contrast behind a screen of green.
There is another standout contrast here, between the leafy roadways of the older end of the park and what we found on the northern side.
At first we did not realise that the large newly developed section of this park existed. We had heard something vague about the angled sites and great amenities, but it was not until we meandered back to the park office, past one of the large and most interestingly shaped 'old' ablution blocks (where all that was within did its job efficiently)
and out onto the entrance roadway beside the adjacent large service station that things fell into place. This is a park of two quite distinct areas, the old (where we were ensconced)
and the decidedly new. Here the sites were conveniently angled (it is always easier to come in on these) and many were drive-thru.
The footpaths and roadways were all sealed, and this looked for all the world like a new housing estate, all functionally pukka but rather bleak and uninviting in the absence of trees and gardens notwithstanding the obviously transplanted mature palms dotted here and there.
But this scene quickly changed at the far end of this section, where the camp kitchen,
a large (and as yet unfinished) assembly hall of some type and attached amenities block
and the second, and very smart, park pool are all surrounded by grass (real and artificial) and newly planted gardens where clearly the garden designer is a fan of palms.
Here there is even a small but very colourful kids' playground. We suspect that Highway One is in the latter stages of a change of marketing direction.
As we were making our way out of this section back to ours, Liz suddenly clutched my arm. "Look who is here", she gasped. "Surely not".
Yes indeed, two identical rigs, vans and towing vehicles, distinctive and unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. Let me explain. The two couples who occupy these vans had arrived at Kurrimine Beach in July. One had attempted to moor on the site opposite ours, made a complete hash of it, nearly taking out a tree in the process, and then began to loudly complain about the small site (for any who use commonsense and come in the other way it is perfectly large enough for this rig).
But then it all just got better (or worse, depending on your point of view). With 'the wife' still standing on the roadway, shrilling shrew-like to all and sundry about the site size (or lack of it), he was off to the office, followed shortly by herself. We were regaled later with the sequence of events which followed.
The companion couple had been sited elsewhere in the park, and the four apparently gathered to confront the office management team about their concerns, not the least of which included the complaint that they had not been given adjoining sites.
I am so disappointed I missed the looks on their collective faces when Glenda expressed her surprise to hear this, given, as she explained, that one of the women had rung a day before their arrival to specifically ask that they not be put together, and that this request had clearly been met! Not unexpectedly in the circumstances, this news was greeted with a round and red faced rebuttal, but as our redoubtable park manager patiently responded, why on earth would she make that up?
And the upshot? Collective huffing and puffing, a decision to move parks and a demand for a refund....given gladly! Fortunately the dill opposite us did managed to depart without further damage, and we later saw that they had set up (together) in the nearby King Reef park, but it was clear that tension remained. In fact, within a couple of days only one was still in situ.
Given what we now saw, there must have been an eventual reconciliation, but seeing these two again just served to remind us of what park managers have to deal with from time to time (as we had discovered during our stint in Carnarvon).
I was sorely tempted to wander over to (politely!) enquire if we may have seen them at KB earlier this year, but my travelling companion was quick to seize my left ear lobe, a move she has perfected when it has come time to leave a particularly boisterous and lengthy happy hour. The accompanying hiss left me in no doubt that my plan had evoked instant disapproval.
Ah well, back to our patch for tea and an early night. Tomorrow was to be a long day, not distance wise, but the need to set up for our up-coming three week stay in Adelaide would see me working well into the afternoon.
And I'll bet you can imagine just how chuffed I was to be greeted the next morning by this weather for our final few kilometres to Windsor Gardens!
But it did lift later, we were all set up by mid afternoon, and then all that remained was for Liz to confirm her shifts for the next three weeks (she donned her nursing uniform for the period we were back) whilst I busied myself confirming arrangements for the function which had brought us back to town at this particular time, Peacekeepers Day.
Yellow is certainly the colour of the month in this part of the South Australian countryside in September, when apart from the contributions of the wattle, the blooming canola crops paint great swathes across the green hillsides, as we saw here on the approach into Truro
and further on, in the Barossa Valley, where it and the budding vines
presented a perfect picture of spring.
The valley of fine wines and many past frolics soon passed us by, and as one of the last of the RAAF P3C Orion aircraft still in service came in low overhead like a great grey goose, flaps extended, on approach to the Edinburgh air base,
we too bled off speed and pulled in at yet another park which was a first for us, the Highway One Caravan and Tourist Park, situated not surprisingly on Highway One (otherwise known as Port Wakefield Road) in the outer northern Adelaide suburb of Bolivar.
Now Bolivar did not always bear a good reputation. It is home to one of the city's large sewerage treatment plants, and to say that the area surrounding this facility was oft enveloped in a miasma of misery is an understatement.
Fortunately, improved technology has now seen this atmospheric affliction become a thing of the past, and as we pulled up at the park office we did so quietly confident that our stay here would be pleasant as far as the air surrounding us was concerned, if nothing else.
Not that this mattered a great deal. We were here only for one night, more to check the place out than anything. The first thing we noticed was that it is not cheap, well particularly when compared to our normal Adelaide residence at Windsor Gardens, but again, as I said, one night only.
We had been told of the striking gardens in this park, and from the outset these were apparent as we made our way through the boom gate
and on down to the drive-thru site we had ordered
where, with a bit of juggling, we were able to remain hitched on the course gravel surface of this rather bare patch without either end hanging out to dry over the roadway.
We soon discovered that we were in the 'older' end of this enormous park, but looking across the roadway in front of our patch the foliage and gardens we had expected were certainly on show. This dense stand of trees actually screens the park pool
This was the first item on our list of things to find during a quick exploration of our new temporary home. A few metres along the roadway beyond our site
brought us to a pathway entrance which looked promising, not that there was anything here to indicate what lay beyond.
We plunged on into the forest and past the gardens which line this narrow path
and soon found ourselves looking out over one of the most charming pool settings we have ever come across. We could have been back in Far North Queensland.
With a poolside table and chairs just inviting a warm afternoon laze with a chilled bottle, we had no difficulty in imagining what a delightful oasis this would be in the heat of the summer, when many of the gravel van sites nearby would certainly be baking in reflected heat.
And we were soon to find that this was the first of two park pools.....but more of that shortly. From here we wandered down to the southern end of the park
which was pretty obviously 'permanent city'.
I did not count the number of those located here in the back end of the park, but it was substantial, and frankly, they were all tucked well away from all who arrive here as transients. This was clearly the application of the park management strategy of 'out of sight out of mind'.
In fact this park caters for a significant group who call it home on a full time basis, and whilst the standard of their accommodation does vary considerably (this was one of the more commodious homes)
one theme remains constant.....gardens and greenery.
Everyone here makes an effort and the results are obvious.
The park gardens remain a work in progress along this row of cabins,
but others, seriously flash, stand in complete contrast behind a screen of green.
There is another standout contrast here, between the leafy roadways of the older end of the park and what we found on the northern side.
At first we did not realise that the large newly developed section of this park existed. We had heard something vague about the angled sites and great amenities, but it was not until we meandered back to the park office, past one of the large and most interestingly shaped 'old' ablution blocks (where all that was within did its job efficiently)
and out onto the entrance roadway beside the adjacent large service station that things fell into place. This is a park of two quite distinct areas, the old (where we were ensconced)
and the decidedly new. Here the sites were conveniently angled (it is always easier to come in on these) and many were drive-thru.
The footpaths and roadways were all sealed, and this looked for all the world like a new housing estate, all functionally pukka but rather bleak and uninviting in the absence of trees and gardens notwithstanding the obviously transplanted mature palms dotted here and there.
But this scene quickly changed at the far end of this section, where the camp kitchen,
a large (and as yet unfinished) assembly hall of some type and attached amenities block
and the second, and very smart, park pool are all surrounded by grass (real and artificial) and newly planted gardens where clearly the garden designer is a fan of palms.
Here there is even a small but very colourful kids' playground. We suspect that Highway One is in the latter stages of a change of marketing direction.
As we were making our way out of this section back to ours, Liz suddenly clutched my arm. "Look who is here", she gasped. "Surely not".
Yes indeed, two identical rigs, vans and towing vehicles, distinctive and unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. Let me explain. The two couples who occupy these vans had arrived at Kurrimine Beach in July. One had attempted to moor on the site opposite ours, made a complete hash of it, nearly taking out a tree in the process, and then began to loudly complain about the small site (for any who use commonsense and come in the other way it is perfectly large enough for this rig).
But then it all just got better (or worse, depending on your point of view). With 'the wife' still standing on the roadway, shrilling shrew-like to all and sundry about the site size (or lack of it), he was off to the office, followed shortly by herself. We were regaled later with the sequence of events which followed.
The companion couple had been sited elsewhere in the park, and the four apparently gathered to confront the office management team about their concerns, not the least of which included the complaint that they had not been given adjoining sites.
I am so disappointed I missed the looks on their collective faces when Glenda expressed her surprise to hear this, given, as she explained, that one of the women had rung a day before their arrival to specifically ask that they not be put together, and that this request had clearly been met! Not unexpectedly in the circumstances, this news was greeted with a round and red faced rebuttal, but as our redoubtable park manager patiently responded, why on earth would she make that up?
And the upshot? Collective huffing and puffing, a decision to move parks and a demand for a refund....given gladly! Fortunately the dill opposite us did managed to depart without further damage, and we later saw that they had set up (together) in the nearby King Reef park, but it was clear that tension remained. In fact, within a couple of days only one was still in situ.
Given what we now saw, there must have been an eventual reconciliation, but seeing these two again just served to remind us of what park managers have to deal with from time to time (as we had discovered during our stint in Carnarvon).
I was sorely tempted to wander over to (politely!) enquire if we may have seen them at KB earlier this year, but my travelling companion was quick to seize my left ear lobe, a move she has perfected when it has come time to leave a particularly boisterous and lengthy happy hour. The accompanying hiss left me in no doubt that my plan had evoked instant disapproval.
Ah well, back to our patch for tea and an early night. Tomorrow was to be a long day, not distance wise, but the need to set up for our up-coming three week stay in Adelaide would see me working well into the afternoon.
And I'll bet you can imagine just how chuffed I was to be greeted the next morning by this weather for our final few kilometres to Windsor Gardens!
But it did lift later, we were all set up by mid afternoon, and then all that remained was for Liz to confirm her shifts for the next three weeks (she donned her nursing uniform for the period we were back) whilst I busied myself confirming arrangements for the function which had brought us back to town at this particular time, Peacekeepers Day.
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