As must be obvious, try as I may I'm slipping further and further behind. The primary problem is that I just find everything we encounter so interesting I cannot help but bang on about it...far too often and in too much detail as my goodly wife keeps reminding me.
Drastic action is necessary if I am to have any hope of bringing our adventures to you in a more timely manner. The time has come. The editorial pen has been sharpened and will be wielded, if not willingly, at least with alacrity from now on. It does feel akin to a thorough cull of household clutter, or throwing out a favoured fishing jumper.....and I was never very good at that!
First step....absolutely no more highway chatter on routes we have previously traversed, even if in the other direction.
So therefore let me cover the 270 kms from Condobolin to Darlington Point, via Lake Cargelligo, Rankin Springs and Griffith by merely stating, "we have arrived". We did take a quick look through the town of Lake Cargelligo en route and have every intention of spending some time here in the future, so I'll resist the temptation to sully my good intentions from the outset!
So, here we are, with the second of the two bridges over the Murrumbidgee at Darlington Point ahead of us and the sign pointing us in the direction of the entrance to our park beckoning.
And what a spectacular entrance this is. The roadway into the park takes visitors under the mass of metal which is a section of the old river bridge,
the history of which is more than adequately detailed on a nearby plaque. We had eyed this off on several occasions whilst in transit in the past, and now we were finally making our way under it.
The Darlington Point Caravan Park, which sits right beside the Murrumbidgee (as we shall see later) can be summed up in one word....'rustic'. As we hove to at the park office/owners house, we were hoping what we were to find on the ground would meet the expectations we had built up over past years as we had sailed by, always en route to somewhere else...in both directions!
Let me report on that immediately.....we could not have been happier, beginning with our first encounter with the park owners, Geoff and Liz, a 'different' couple who have received varying reviews on Wikicamps etc.
We were welcomed warmly, and in the course of our introductory conversation the subject of my UN Forces service came up (I now haven't the slightest recollection how). Well, that lit a fuse in Geoff....apart from receiving effusive 'thanks for my service' (all a bit embarrassing and slightly over the top really) mine host immediately reduced our daily site fee by some serious dollars. What a good start this was!
We were invited to pick our own site from the many which were available at this time of the day (at this time of the year this is another of those 'tidal' parks....almost empty by 1000 hours and busy again by late afternoon).
A grassy drive-thru beckoned, so it was off down the sealed roadway beyond the office, around the back of the park
and onto our selected patch where we set up with a minimum of fuss.
Apart from the obvious ease of a drive-thru, our chosen spot was almost on top of both the camp kitchen and fire pit
and, beyond the front of the van, one of the two park amenities blocks.
At this point I must comment that one of the oddities of this park, which has been the subject of some quite virulent criticism amongst the chattering classes who inhabit various electronic feedback forums, is the fact that the showers here are on timers. This was something about which I had been a little concerned prior to arrival, based mainly on the wretched experience we had had so many years ago in that horror of a park we had found ourselves in at Bowen (the Bowen Village Caravan Park and Tourist Park).
To my relief, the allotted time was more than ample for a good scrub. My only gripe was the fact that it was freezing cold (from our perspective) during our stay, and if one was the first to use the showers, it did take a frustrating portion of the time allowed for the hot water to actually arrive. But having said that, I have to admit that it did not take me too long to figure out how to wangle the system....shhh!
In addition to the van sites, cabins were dotted hither and yon
throughout different areas of the park
and a second ablution block, currently closed for the slow season, was to be found at the far end.
As can be seen in previous shots, many of the park trees are deciduous and were quite bare, but beyond the park boundaries, the stands of river red gums towered overhead in prolific numbers.
These magnificent trees provided more than shade. The lopped wood from dickey branches became fuel for the regular afternoon fire which is a feature of park life here during the cooler months. I declined the opportunity to rug up like a snow bunny, huddle around a smokey pit pretending I was relishing the great outdoors, only to return to the van smelling like a cooked kipper,
but Liz did brave the elements one afternoon, probably more in response to the instant clamouring of a very grumpy housebound feline than anything else (at least the drink is the right colour for this weather).
Max did take off on a short park patrol,
but in short order he retired hurt on Liz's lap as they both tried to convince themselves and any watching that they were really having a good time. Nothing like having a live granny rug!
Now I know that I've been banging on about the chill........let me provide just one more piece of evidence. Normally any attempt to provide his nibs with some extra warmth is met with immediate rejection and a rapid move. Not so at Darlington Point!
So, the question arose, would the intrepid Mobile Marshies allow these cold and challenging conditions to overcome our normal desire to get out and about on our constant quest for new sights and sounds?
Not a bit of it. We meandered out on several jaunts, through the town and along the banks of the Murrumbidgee, but true to my new blogging resolve, I plan to present but a 'snapshot' version which will hopefully serve adequately to bring you the flavour of what we found, if not infinite detail.
The roadway at the back end of the park led us out past some of the accumulated firewood
to a rough and ready river bank trail which took us upstream beside the muddy Murrumbidgee,
past a small picnic table, highly in keeping with its surrounds,
and on to a point where the river curves away upstream past a few small sandy beaches.
This was as far as we meandered in this direction, but here we did come across the unmistakable remnants of an old river bank wharf. Oddly, none of my subsequent enquiries was able to shed any light on the part this had played in Darlington Point's past, although I suspect this may the site of a wool store and wharf built here in the 1800's.
From here we turned away from the river and walked back along a dirt track through the stands of red gum and other river trees
which soon brought us to the edge of the main road into town and the first of two highway bridges (this one is actually more of a causeway over what appeared to be a floodplain rather than the river proper).
As we made our way back onto the first bridge
we could see back across one of the open parkland spaces on the northern side of the town.
We were more than grateful for the well guarded pedestrian walkway on these crossings
as we continued on towards our park entrance and the main bridge beyond.
The traffic during the time I took these photos was exceptionally quite but as we ventured across the main channel of the river, at least four semis thundered past, interspersed with assorted other vehicles. This is a busy road.
The mighty Murrumbidgee was flowing strongly during the time of our stay, but a repeat riparian ramble was not on today's agenda. We were off to see the sights of the town
where we were first greeted by a vista of these delightful street trees in full bloom.
The actual main commercial strip at Darlington Point is a little difficult to describe. Unlike so many smallish towns sitting astride a main highway, the road here does not traverse the town in a straight line, but curves past several different sections of the 'CBD' before continuing on south to meet the Sturt Highway.
Hopefully this rather hazy map, courtesy of 'gif arta' provides an idea. The large yellow patch on the right upper side is the caravan park, the river is obvious, as is the road across it. The black dot inside the curve off the bridge represents the pub,
which we could now see before us just beyond the small park and public loos at this end of town.
The outward appearance of the Punt Hotel was typical of what we always hope to find in small country towns,
and as we approached for a closer look, how could we possibly resist an invitation like this? We did indeed repair indoors on a later occasion, where a couple of the locals were more than up for a chat.....just the very reason we breast the bars of these establishments (well, one of the reasons!)
Opposite the pub, at the base of the bridge, we found the first of two groups of commercial premises which included
the local Italian Restaurant which we were surprised to find restricts its menu to pizza and pasta only. But, by all accounts, limited though the range may be, apparently all that leaves the kitchen here is pretty good fare,
The Darlington Point boys and girls in blue are housed in this rather quaint little country station immediately next door to this local noshery (very convenient if they like Italian food).
On the far side of the curve in the highway, but still opposite the pub, this second group of shops
I was on a very short lead as we strolled past this vendor of viands who specialises in a range of home smoked smallgoods. "The fridge is full", was comment enough to keep me on the straight and narrow, eyes fixed firmly ahead, a picture of self-denial!
We continued south along the main drag where on one side of the road we found the Darlington Point general store,
opposite which stood the local council building, the town war memorial.
and beyond that, the medical centre, in front of which stood
this unusual street art, a curved metal tower (presumably representing the river) in which is embedded an electronic lights panel. We think this normally provides advice relating to temperature,
but it was clearly on strike today. "It's bloody frozen like the rest of us", was my thought!
We scurried on towards the southern end of the township, past the grand looking Murrumbidgee Shire hall,
and the open expanses of the 'Memorial Centre' playgrounds
before coming to what is literally, in the words of the Elton John song, 'The Club At The End Of The Street'.
The Darlington Point Club is the last building at this southern end of town.
Past here, the speed limit whips up to 80 kph and above, and within less than five kilometres, the Kidman Way intersects the Sturt Highway.
Obviously this was our 'about turn' point. From here we wandered back on the opposite side of the highway to soon find our selves ascending the slopes of a substantial
levee bank which took us much of the way back into the main section of the town.
En route we had an elevated view across the highway to the one and only Darlington Point take-away shop. If the numbers of vehicle we saw here from time to time was anything to go by, this would appear to be a thriving business.
As we left the levee bank and resumed our march along the formal pavement towards our starting point, we passed the solid red brick Anglican Church building
and the Darlington Point swimming pool,
before arriving back at the small town park behind the pub where, behind the public toilet block, we stumbled across this rather ornate, white watering trough.
That in itself was nothing particularly startling, but it was the inscription on it which attracted my attention. Well done, Annis and George Bills, but 'Australia'? Normally those who are moved to make philanthropic gestures such as this are far more specific about their place of origin.
We left Darlington Point none the wiser, but in one of those extrordinary encounters which bring apparently disparate strands of life on the road all together, as we were bashing about Balranald a few days later all was revealed. Stand by!
For now, with this small mystery briefly exercising our minds, we decided to complete today's tour with a quick detour, a right turn down the roadway along the park boundary
where the sign at the entrance promised us the river and a beach.
Indeed we did come to the river, initially at the point under the main bridge where small boats can be launched,
or those less aquatically equipped can picnic in comfort on the lawns of a small nearby park.
The riverside fish cleaning station provided a clear indication that piscatorial pursuits are encouraged on this stretch of the river, presumably with some prospect of success,
but as for 'the beach'.......I don't think so. We did find a small strip of rather muddy looking sand,
running along the edge of this wide mud flat, but this held little aesthetic appeal to those of us who have spent most of our lives 'beside the seaside' where white sands stretch endlessly along the coastline.
And with this stern warning sign, of obvious long standing, looming over the waters of the river, we decided that fishing was by far the best of all available aquatic options right here.
But having said that, we also firmly decided that Darlington Point is a place which would be just the ticket for a short summer sojourn, relaxing on a grassy site under the shade of the many trees which abound in the local caravan park, rambling along the river in the glow of sunset or casting a line in the hope of a fine fish supper. We shall return.
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