Rested, recovered, refreshed and raring to go. White Cliffs awaited us....only three weeks later than we had originally planned! But as I mentioned in my last, we were now to be here during the annual music festival. Delays can sometimes bring good fortune.
Unlike our arrival into Broken Hill, when the gloomy skies seemed more than fitting, the day of our departure dawned bright and sunny, again a good match for the way we were now feeling.
I'll not present repeat photos of the 196 kilometres of the highway between Broken Hill and Wilcannia, other than this shot to show just how green the verges had become after quite handy recent rains.
We reached the White Cliffs turnoff just before entering Wilcannia proper, but rather than heading north immediately, decided that a visit to the back street fuel depot would be a smart move. Apart from the fact that a full tank always provides a sense of security, we knew that the turnover at this now very popular fuel stop would increase the probability of receiving clean fuel and we had no idea whatsoever of what we were likely to find in White Cliffs.
We had been told that the remaining 92 kilometres of our journey north would be on one of the best sealed roads in the country, and whilst we were hopeful that this would be the case, we were just a touch concerned that this may have been tourist trash talk. Not so, dear readers. This did indeed prove to be a fine stretch of bitumen,
where once again we were surprised and delighted with the green tinges which were carpeting the otherwise potentially rocky and barren outback plains.
With clear skies, no wind to speak of and virtually no traffic with which to contend, this leg of today's trip passed in a flash, and in no time we could see the ridge of hills we knew lay just east of this isolated town.
And then, as we passed the welcome sign mounted on the back of an opal 'blower' truck (with which we were more than familiar after our week in Lightning Ridge and The Grawin)
we had our first view of the White Cliffs dugouts and other above ground infrastructure on the rising ground known as Smith's Hill. This was pretty exciting stuff....we were finally here after talking about doing so for many years.
More dugouts and the assorted bits and pieces which we were soon to discover lie bout this town in gay abandon, were spread out in front of us as we hit the formal town limits.
The blue sign at the junction ahead confirmed we were still on the right track.
As we passed the 'official' town sign, we did note its 'chewed out' appearance above the lettering. We later discovered that the local corellas had been having a field day with the soft material from which this sign had been made ever since it was erected.
We made our way to what is in essence the 'town centre' where the general store and the hotel face off across the intersection. We had come in from the road on the left of this shot, and here we turned left to drive up to the town caravan park.
We were pleased to see the tour bus parked in front of the office. This meant that Rob, the tour guide and the park manager, was on deck. Because the park was to be so crowded we had prearranged to meet him just after lunch so he could direct us to the unpowered section of the park and the spot he had set aside for us.
As the large notice on the office wall indicated, this is one of those places where new arrivals are encouraged to find a site and settle in if the office is unattended, but our circumstances were different given the upcoming festivities in the town.
Other notice boards provided all sorts of visitor information (including a very descriptive town map to which I'll refer later) and it was immediately apparent to us that the White Cliffs community has recognised the importance of tourism to the local economy.
Today the office door was wide open. Rob was at his desk and greeted us effusively. We knew immediately that we would 'get on' and this subsequently proved to be a good guess.
He confirmed that there were still no vacant powered sites and showed us to the unpowered section and the spot he had set aside for us with the promise that should he receive a cancellation we would have first dibs on a move.
This was a good as we could expect, and we set up on the red dirt in our allocated spot.
From here it was only a short walk to the nearby camp kitchen and the amenities block at this end of what we found to be a surprisingly large park. The barren surrounds had come as no surprise,
but the interior of the fully enclosed 'Bill and Irma's Camp Kitchen' certainly did.
Apart from the excellent cooking facilities, there was plenty of bench seating
and like the office, the walls here were covered with excellent informative posters and pictorial sheets providing information about the town and its development.
The showers were more than fit for purpose, and we were pleased to find that a recent post on the town website, which had trumpeted the news that recent rains had put and end to a critical water shortage in the town, was correct.
And then came a most welcome surprise. The day after our arrival I was beavering away on the computer in the camp kitchen (where I had a power source......we were a little concerned about the voltage in the batteries and had not set up the inverter) when in walked our park host with a very cheery grin on his face. "Liz told me I would find you here. Do you feel like moving?"
Rob had just received a cancellation, and true to his word we were first cab off the rank. The effort involved in pulling down and shifting was insignificant when compared to the creature comfort we were about to enjoy....power, water and a clean slab. We had already decided to extend our stay here, so this was a real bonus.
Within less than two hours we had established ourselves on a site at the entrance to the park.
Site 12 proved to be excellent.
The second of the two toilet and shower blocks in the park
was, as this shot shows, right at our rear doorstep, and we even had the benefit of camping next to one of the very few trees in the park.
As we had expected, the park was certainly busy. We had arrived on a Thursday whilst things were comparatively quite, but on Friday folk flocked in.
And they came in vans and vehicles of all sorts including this rugged looking off roader complete with a motor bike and sidecar in the trailer,
and this more than distinctive combination which was cruising the countryside seeking donations for the 'Make a Wish' foundation.
The park was pumping. All and sundry were buzzing with anticipation. Many to whom we spoke have made the White Cliffs music festival an annual pilgrimage. They assured us that we were in for a real treat.
Even the weather came to the party, with the heavy sheet of cloud over the packed park slowly colouring as the sun set
until the sky was a brilliant patchwork of crimson and blue above the dark outline of the trees.
Welcome to White Cliffs....let the festivities begin.
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