Now that the weather had settled into something which was below boiling point, we decided that we could comfortably manage our return trip to Adelaide via the Western and Dukes Highways rather than head further south into cooler conditions.
This involved heading cross country for a while, from Seymour through the back roads to Bendigo and thence onto the Wimmera Highway (a shocker as it turned out) to pick up the Western at Horsham. Once here the remainder of the trip was travelling 'old hat', so as is our want, we chose to overnight in a town through which we had passed innumerable times but never stopped.
Four hundred and twenty five kilometres should bring us to the small Victorian farming town of Kaniva. Our investigations indicated that the council owned park here was more than fit for purpose. We were about to find out.
As we drove out of Seymour the full extent of the Puckapunyal training area became evident. For many kilometres on the Seymour - Tooborac road we drove past roadside fencing complete with Commonwealth trespass warning signs and electrification. It never seemed to end
and then, there we were, at the junction which would take us on through Heathcote en route to Bendigo.
And what a delightful town Heathcote is,
with its broad leafy main street (the highway actually) and lovely old buildings. B&B's and other holiday accommodation abound and we were not the slightest bit surprised to learn that this pretty town, a mere 110 kms from Melbourne and in the heart of the Victorian shiraz wine region, attracts many visitors looking to wind down.
A further 45 kms brought us into Bendigo, and here we made a silly slip. Whilst we have a fair degree of faith in our electronic navigator, on new roads we tend to also keep tabs of our position on the relevant map. 'Ken', as we have christened the voice of our NavMan, has been know to lead us astray when 'the shortest route' has been entered.
'Bingo' in Bendigo. Before we knew it we were hauling through the heavy traffic of this large town's CBD. Liz was far too busy acting as my second pair of eyes to bother with photos. Traffic and road signs had a far greater priority.
One positive to come out of this rather fraught ten minutes or so was the fact that we actually got to see some of the magnificent buildings which grace the centre of the town (whilst waiting at the seemingly never ending sets of traffic lights.
When we finally made it out of the maze to the turning for which we had been looking all along (there was a by-pass road we should have taken) we both agreed that Bendigo had to go high on our list of 'must visit for some time' towns.
Traversing the Wimmera town of St Arnuad, some 110 kms later
was a much easier task.
Formerly a gold town,
the main street boasts a significant number of grand old buildings and a quite a collection of good pubs, but as you can see, we were directed left before we got there. Again...on the list for a later leisurely look.
And from here on the B240, which took us through to Horsham, has also gone onto a list.......as one of the roads to be avoided in future if possible. Potholes, rough surfaces and sharp undulations (the killers of caravan A frames) all featured. The only upside of the necessary rapid speed reduction and subsequent crawl is that one does have more time to look around, but in this part of the country that is no real boon......one huge wheat paddock is just like its neighbour.
We did, however, come across another country gem. It was time for a break, or more to the point, the 'Navigator's' demands for a pit stop were becoming increasingly more frequent and strident. I was more than sympathetic....bumps and bursting bladders make for poor travelling companions....just ask Max!
Murtoa it was then,
and what an absolute delight this place turned out to be. We followed the relevant public loo directions to a park near the town swimming centre, past these rather grand memorial gates,
to discovered that this town features a beautiful lake edged with lovely lawns and gardens,
and, more importantly, as this shot (courtesy of the 'Yarriambiack Shire') shows, the local caravan park is situated right on the edge of the lovely Lake Lasselles.
With outlooks like this (thanks 'tripadvisor'), and despite the fact that the remaining 30 kms to Horsham were amongst the worst along this wretched 'highway', we took the decision that this was a spot well worth a 'chill out' detour and a stop-over for few days when we were again making our way east or west along the A8.
After a quick lunch break in familiar Dimboola, the remaining 75 kms or so through Nhill and beyond went by in no time and we soon found ourselves at the entrance to the Kaniva Caravan park,
where this sign is to be taken literally, believe me!
But once I had negotiated this last challenge for the day, we were delighted to discover that our relatively early arrival meant we could collar the one and only designated drive-thru site.
Although the grass on our patch was a little crunchy, this was not the case elsewhere in this charming little park situated well enough off the main highway to be genuinely quiet. Given the heat of the past fortnight, we were more than forgiving of our dry 'lawn' and if testament to the recent heat were needed, the torn up bitumen on the roadway in front of the site next to ours provided plenty of evidence...it had obviously melted at one stage not too far in the past.
With the well grassed and unsurprisingly popular town pool right next door,
more than adequate amenities
and a semi-enclosed BBQ shed, at $26 per night payable at the pool (or left in the honour box), we were more than happy here.
So was the Black Panther, who was off like a shot to patrol his new surrounds once we had settled,
and when he determined that all was right with this part of the world, decided that he would commune with nature for a while before returning to his mobile home.
We later roamed about ourselves for a short period, down the main street to the large and rather quaint looking Commercial Hotel, a building one cannot miss when passing through this town.
Whilst enjoying a pre-dinner cold frothy or two, we met Zach the owner, who has, over the past few years, been in the process of completely making over the interior to bring this pub back to its glory days. It was still very much a 'work in progress' but we will be keenly interested to call in again in a few years......what we saw indicated that he will make a real success of this venture.
Ours was but a short stroll (the Kaniva main CBD is neither extensive nor grandly exciting!) and it was soon time to take advantage of the good BBQ
before we settled down to a pleasant evening meal as the setting sun first tinged the clouds over the stubble paddock with pastel hues
before searching nature's palette for something far more fiery. How grand it was to be able to open the van windows and hatches, sleep under a light blanket at last and not spend the night worrying bout the performance of the fridge.
Our second overnight was to be in a park we had first seen fifteen years ago, and then not from the road. Avoca Dell, a small settlement on the banks of the River Murray opposite Murray Bridge, is not only home to a caravan park, but also to very acceptable houseboat moorings.
Good friends of ours had hired a large boat out of Murray Bridge and had asked us to join them (read, "Pete will you skipper it for us?") We happily accepted and moored for our first night on the river at the very same Avoca Dell where the caravan park looks down over the moorings.
Would all this be as we had remembered? There was only one way to find out.
With the relatively short leg of 245 kms in front of us we were away early and had soon crossed back into South Australia. A virtually bare fridge meant that we had nothing to fear from a quarantine inspection nor did we have need to stop at the disposal bin.
The familiar towns of Bordertown, Keith, Tintinara, Coonalpyn, Coomandook and Tailem Bend were all soon in our mirrors, and by mid morning we reached the junction which took us off the Dukes Highway
and onto the back road into Murray Bridge where our second turn off beckoned.
From there it was but a short hop through the 'town' and on down the hill to the river valley below.
As we made our way along the riverside roadway towards the park, any doubts we may have had about our choice were beginning to evaporate....this all looked very familiar and more than acceptable.
The park entrance beckoned
and we hove to on the paved arrivals area opposite the reception office. When I had booked I had been promised a large, grassy site,
and I have to say that The Avoca Dell Caravan Park (and my new found friend Lawrence) delivered in spades.
We were on the upper level of this terraced park, and although we only had 'river glimpses' from this spot, our site was indeed magnificent. It was huge, easy to back on to, with lush grass and a huge gum tree on its front corner which threw shade across our patch from early in the afternoon without the threat of falling branches hitting our rig. There was not even the need to haul out the awning....we could not have been happier.
The park was understandably busy, and as we roamed around we did note that many of the sites on the levels below us
which did have good views over The Murray were not large enough to accommodate our rig. We cared not.
The large amenities block housed good scrubs
and one of the largest camp kitchen dining rooms we had ever come across.
The facilities in the adjoining cooking area were more than adequate,
and included both an ironing board and an iron. But it was the notice board in this corner which attracted my attention,
well, more to the point, these Certificates of Appreciation did. This is the Association of which I have been a member for years, and I am a regular recipient of the 'True Blue' magazine. Needless to say enquiries were warranted, and I was soon to learn that one of the staff here used to work with the NT Police, in particular for a senior officer who, would you believe, was in Cyprus at the same time as I was. The world just keeps getting smaller and smaller!
In addition to the camp kitchen, there was another far less formal BBQ area near the reception office,
and just beyond that, for those with the inclination, a round of putt putt could be yours for a modest fee.
The park cabins were neat affairs, some in paved areas
and others in a more garden setting.
This really was as good as we had remembered, and after settling in (which took no time at all) we toddled off to take a look at the river. All that was needed was to cross the road in front of the caravan park
and there we were, walking along the well maintained riparian reserve.
The public facilities here are first class, including the small boat launching ramp,
and a good BBQ shelter, one which was being very well used on this fine afternoon.
To top it all off, and bringing memories flooding back, there was even a small houseboat moored precisely where we had done all those years ago.
And this was the view of the park we had gained on that occasion, one which had prompted us to make this our last overnight before taking up our new digs at McLaren Vale in the wine region just south of Metropolitan Adelaide.
What a fine ending to a very trying fortnight. Frankly, had we known just how taxing the weather was going to be we would have cancelled, but as I have mentioned previously, we not only survived but learnt some lessons.
In short, having had an expert look at our fridge setup, we now know that the upper heat exhausting vent is not only inadequately small, it has been installed incorrectly in relation to the condenser.
Needless to say, after that call out which we organised on our first evening in McLaren Vale (and a consultation fee of $130), we are now in possession of much larger vents, and have made arrangements to have them installed at the end of this week. A new probe thermometer with a readout unit on the door gives us accurate readings of what is going on inside and I think it is fair to say that there have probably been many occasions in the past when it was operating below par without us being acutely aware of it. No longer!
And with the latest blast of heat through which we (and everyone else in Adelaide as the highest ever maximum was recorded in the city) have suffered fully taxing our current air conditioning unit, we are actively exploring an upgrade. Ah, well, as I have oft commented, it's only money, and frankly, given that (all things being equal) we intend to hang onto this van for some years to come before we downsize, the investment will be well worth it.
So, dear readers, that brings to a close our New Year adventures. We'll be returning to complete our Tassie trip in my coming offerings.
Four hundred and twenty five kilometres should bring us to the small Victorian farming town of Kaniva. Our investigations indicated that the council owned park here was more than fit for purpose. We were about to find out.
As we drove out of Seymour the full extent of the Puckapunyal training area became evident. For many kilometres on the Seymour - Tooborac road we drove past roadside fencing complete with Commonwealth trespass warning signs and electrification. It never seemed to end
and then, there we were, at the junction which would take us on through Heathcote en route to Bendigo.
And what a delightful town Heathcote is,
with its broad leafy main street (the highway actually) and lovely old buildings. B&B's and other holiday accommodation abound and we were not the slightest bit surprised to learn that this pretty town, a mere 110 kms from Melbourne and in the heart of the Victorian shiraz wine region, attracts many visitors looking to wind down.
A further 45 kms brought us into Bendigo, and here we made a silly slip. Whilst we have a fair degree of faith in our electronic navigator, on new roads we tend to also keep tabs of our position on the relevant map. 'Ken', as we have christened the voice of our NavMan, has been know to lead us astray when 'the shortest route' has been entered.
'Bingo' in Bendigo. Before we knew it we were hauling through the heavy traffic of this large town's CBD. Liz was far too busy acting as my second pair of eyes to bother with photos. Traffic and road signs had a far greater priority.
One positive to come out of this rather fraught ten minutes or so was the fact that we actually got to see some of the magnificent buildings which grace the centre of the town (whilst waiting at the seemingly never ending sets of traffic lights.
When we finally made it out of the maze to the turning for which we had been looking all along (there was a by-pass road we should have taken) we both agreed that Bendigo had to go high on our list of 'must visit for some time' towns.
Traversing the Wimmera town of St Arnuad, some 110 kms later
was a much easier task.
Formerly a gold town,
the main street boasts a significant number of grand old buildings and a quite a collection of good pubs, but as you can see, we were directed left before we got there. Again...on the list for a later leisurely look.
And from here on the B240, which took us through to Horsham, has also gone onto a list.......as one of the roads to be avoided in future if possible. Potholes, rough surfaces and sharp undulations (the killers of caravan A frames) all featured. The only upside of the necessary rapid speed reduction and subsequent crawl is that one does have more time to look around, but in this part of the country that is no real boon......one huge wheat paddock is just like its neighbour.
We did, however, come across another country gem. It was time for a break, or more to the point, the 'Navigator's' demands for a pit stop were becoming increasingly more frequent and strident. I was more than sympathetic....bumps and bursting bladders make for poor travelling companions....just ask Max!
Murtoa it was then,
and what an absolute delight this place turned out to be. We followed the relevant public loo directions to a park near the town swimming centre, past these rather grand memorial gates,
to discovered that this town features a beautiful lake edged with lovely lawns and gardens,
and, more importantly, as this shot (courtesy of the 'Yarriambiack Shire') shows, the local caravan park is situated right on the edge of the lovely Lake Lasselles.
With outlooks like this (thanks 'tripadvisor'), and despite the fact that the remaining 30 kms to Horsham were amongst the worst along this wretched 'highway', we took the decision that this was a spot well worth a 'chill out' detour and a stop-over for few days when we were again making our way east or west along the A8.
After a quick lunch break in familiar Dimboola, the remaining 75 kms or so through Nhill and beyond went by in no time and we soon found ourselves at the entrance to the Kaniva Caravan park,
where this sign is to be taken literally, believe me!
But once I had negotiated this last challenge for the day, we were delighted to discover that our relatively early arrival meant we could collar the one and only designated drive-thru site.
Although the grass on our patch was a little crunchy, this was not the case elsewhere in this charming little park situated well enough off the main highway to be genuinely quiet. Given the heat of the past fortnight, we were more than forgiving of our dry 'lawn' and if testament to the recent heat were needed, the torn up bitumen on the roadway in front of the site next to ours provided plenty of evidence...it had obviously melted at one stage not too far in the past.
With the well grassed and unsurprisingly popular town pool right next door,
more than adequate amenities
and a semi-enclosed BBQ shed, at $26 per night payable at the pool (or left in the honour box), we were more than happy here.
So was the Black Panther, who was off like a shot to patrol his new surrounds once we had settled,
and when he determined that all was right with this part of the world, decided that he would commune with nature for a while before returning to his mobile home.
We later roamed about ourselves for a short period, down the main street to the large and rather quaint looking Commercial Hotel, a building one cannot miss when passing through this town.
Whilst enjoying a pre-dinner cold frothy or two, we met Zach the owner, who has, over the past few years, been in the process of completely making over the interior to bring this pub back to its glory days. It was still very much a 'work in progress' but we will be keenly interested to call in again in a few years......what we saw indicated that he will make a real success of this venture.
Ours was but a short stroll (the Kaniva main CBD is neither extensive nor grandly exciting!) and it was soon time to take advantage of the good BBQ
before we settled down to a pleasant evening meal as the setting sun first tinged the clouds over the stubble paddock with pastel hues
before searching nature's palette for something far more fiery. How grand it was to be able to open the van windows and hatches, sleep under a light blanket at last and not spend the night worrying bout the performance of the fridge.
Our second overnight was to be in a park we had first seen fifteen years ago, and then not from the road. Avoca Dell, a small settlement on the banks of the River Murray opposite Murray Bridge, is not only home to a caravan park, but also to very acceptable houseboat moorings.
Good friends of ours had hired a large boat out of Murray Bridge and had asked us to join them (read, "Pete will you skipper it for us?") We happily accepted and moored for our first night on the river at the very same Avoca Dell where the caravan park looks down over the moorings.
Would all this be as we had remembered? There was only one way to find out.
With the relatively short leg of 245 kms in front of us we were away early and had soon crossed back into South Australia. A virtually bare fridge meant that we had nothing to fear from a quarantine inspection nor did we have need to stop at the disposal bin.
The familiar towns of Bordertown, Keith, Tintinara, Coonalpyn, Coomandook and Tailem Bend were all soon in our mirrors, and by mid morning we reached the junction which took us off the Dukes Highway
and onto the back road into Murray Bridge where our second turn off beckoned.
From there it was but a short hop through the 'town' and on down the hill to the river valley below.
As we made our way along the riverside roadway towards the park, any doubts we may have had about our choice were beginning to evaporate....this all looked very familiar and more than acceptable.
The park entrance beckoned
and we hove to on the paved arrivals area opposite the reception office. When I had booked I had been promised a large, grassy site,
and I have to say that The Avoca Dell Caravan Park (and my new found friend Lawrence) delivered in spades.
We were on the upper level of this terraced park, and although we only had 'river glimpses' from this spot, our site was indeed magnificent. It was huge, easy to back on to, with lush grass and a huge gum tree on its front corner which threw shade across our patch from early in the afternoon without the threat of falling branches hitting our rig. There was not even the need to haul out the awning....we could not have been happier.
The park was understandably busy, and as we roamed around we did note that many of the sites on the levels below us
which did have good views over The Murray were not large enough to accommodate our rig. We cared not.
The large amenities block housed good scrubs
and one of the largest camp kitchen dining rooms we had ever come across.
The facilities in the adjoining cooking area were more than adequate,
and included both an ironing board and an iron. But it was the notice board in this corner which attracted my attention,
well, more to the point, these Certificates of Appreciation did. This is the Association of which I have been a member for years, and I am a regular recipient of the 'True Blue' magazine. Needless to say enquiries were warranted, and I was soon to learn that one of the staff here used to work with the NT Police, in particular for a senior officer who, would you believe, was in Cyprus at the same time as I was. The world just keeps getting smaller and smaller!
In addition to the camp kitchen, there was another far less formal BBQ area near the reception office,
and just beyond that, for those with the inclination, a round of putt putt could be yours for a modest fee.
The park cabins were neat affairs, some in paved areas
and others in a more garden setting.
This really was as good as we had remembered, and after settling in (which took no time at all) we toddled off to take a look at the river. All that was needed was to cross the road in front of the caravan park
and there we were, walking along the well maintained riparian reserve.
The public facilities here are first class, including the small boat launching ramp,
and a good BBQ shelter, one which was being very well used on this fine afternoon.
To top it all off, and bringing memories flooding back, there was even a small houseboat moored precisely where we had done all those years ago.
And this was the view of the park we had gained on that occasion, one which had prompted us to make this our last overnight before taking up our new digs at McLaren Vale in the wine region just south of Metropolitan Adelaide.
What a fine ending to a very trying fortnight. Frankly, had we known just how taxing the weather was going to be we would have cancelled, but as I have mentioned previously, we not only survived but learnt some lessons.
In short, having had an expert look at our fridge setup, we now know that the upper heat exhausting vent is not only inadequately small, it has been installed incorrectly in relation to the condenser.
Needless to say, after that call out which we organised on our first evening in McLaren Vale (and a consultation fee of $130), we are now in possession of much larger vents, and have made arrangements to have them installed at the end of this week. A new probe thermometer with a readout unit on the door gives us accurate readings of what is going on inside and I think it is fair to say that there have probably been many occasions in the past when it was operating below par without us being acutely aware of it. No longer!
And with the latest blast of heat through which we (and everyone else in Adelaide as the highest ever maximum was recorded in the city) have suffered fully taxing our current air conditioning unit, we are actively exploring an upgrade. Ah, well, as I have oft commented, it's only money, and frankly, given that (all things being equal) we intend to hang onto this van for some years to come before we downsize, the investment will be well worth it.
So, dear readers, that brings to a close our New Year adventures. We'll be returning to complete our Tassie trip in my coming offerings.
