With our arrival in Quilpie we had now 'formally' reached the Channel Country and were finally about to realise an ambition long held. You may recall that our last attempt to travel south through this area in September 2016 was well and truly thwarted by the very event which brings it to life....floods!
Quilpie, like Thargomindah, actually lies on the Barcoo River (not one of those really recognised as being a major watercourse in the Channel), and if the truth were told, is really on the very eastern edge of the Channel Country, but we were happy to accept that we were at the stepping off point, if nothing else.
Having said that, Quilpie has no need to hide its head from the glare of the tourist spotlight. It is a most fascinating town, one which has a number of its own unique claims to fame, but we'll deal with that later. First we had to settle in, and I must say at the outset that the Channel Country Tourist Park and Spas was decidedly 'outback'.
After passing the quite spectacular town entrance sign (which I included in my last, but have since
found this much better image thanks to 'Aussie Towns'), one raised on a pile of large rocks which signifies the fact that Quilpie is the heart of boulder opal country,
our trusty electronic navigator took us down the wide divided main street of town until we reached the oddly named Chipu Street,
where a right turn soon brought us to the entrance to our new park, home for the next three days.
As normal, I eased the rig to a stop outside the office and with the formalities over
we toddled on down the main entrance roadway off which side roads lead to the various sites.
We had been allotted a spot at the western end of the park, and as the most welcoming manageress had told me, I would be able to drive on through the one behind it. Although we are dab hands at reversing on (as well we should be after all these years), this is always the easier option.
Quilpie, like many other parts of this region had not had good rains for some time, and as you will see, the surrounds to our site were dry and dusty, as was much of the park. But we did have a slab, so there was no need to break out our dust busting C-Gear flooring.
This was not the case, however, with our 'Cane Toad' flag. That annual epic two-state struggle, 'State of Origin' was nigh....Liz, a now self-confessed Queensland fanatic, insists that we nail our colours to the mast for the week before the match! "Yes, ma'am!"
Water really does wonders in these parts, and with the hedges between sites, a few trees and grassy areas behind us where the sullage of previous occupants had worked its magic, we did not feel as though we were sitting in the Simpson desert.
Another advantage of being at this end of the park lay in the fact that the unpowered drive-thru sites opposite did have a reasonable covering of grass, but there was still plenty of bare dirt to be seen. We were just grateful that all the park roadways were sealed.
A number of much larger trees including a few palms, a species I always have trouble reconciling with the outback (being the regular visitor to the wet tropics that I am), shaded the area of the park cabins which were situated opposite the park office.
More trees were dotted throughout the park. These and the hedges did much to take the edge off what would have otherwise been a very barren spot.
As we had driven in we could not miss the infrastructure we passed just beyond the office, but it was not until we took our first stroll around our new surroundings that we realised what it all was.
I should have guessed.....it is in the park title.....'Tourist Park and Spas', but these were certainly spas with a difference. With the nearby windmill and the high overhead tank
which fed the spa shower, the galvanised iron surrounds to each small pool,
and the creative steps up to each (cement filled cut down fuel drums) this oasis of relaxation had a most decidedly outback feel to it. How apt!
Despite the cloudless skies and bright sunshine, the weather was decidedly chilly throughout our stay, and I have to confess that we were not really attracted to stripping off for a warm plunge, but many other did indulge.
In this same area of the park, where a real effort had been made to keep things green,
the somewhat bland exterior look of the heads
belied what was to be found inside....and as well as looking more than appealing, these amenities were kept spotless and it all worked!
Unsurprisingly, the park clothes lines were nearby, and again an effort had been made here to ensure that the cement paths to each were surrounded by lawn. Beyond that we have the buildings of the camp kitchen area,
including what appeared to be a very well used camp fire area. We were soon to discover this was correct.
Consistent with the obvious outback theme of this park, the quite large and well equipped camp kitchen
was adorned with shelves of 'country clutter' and a smattering of humorous (?) posters.
Needless to say, with two good BBQ's on offer, a good grill (with enough for left-overs) was the order of the day for one evening meal. Sadly for me, this included the last of my treasured SA cevapcici, those marvellous skinless sausages first introduced into Adelaide by the proprietors of the iconic BBQ Inn, many, many years ago.
Brown paper bags filled with these succulent goodies, a small steak, pieces of crusty bread, coleslaw, tomato, and potato salad, all provided for the princely sum of $2.00, was the frequent meal of choice for those of us working evening shifts in the Adelaide CIB in the late 60's and 70's. My mouth waters even now at the memory. Many (poor) imitations are now mass produced and available in most supermarkets, but for those of us in the know, the real thing is still to be found.......but I digress.
It was here in Quilpie that we learnt that the provision of entertainment has become critical to attracting and holding many of the grey nomad population (we do not include ourselves, I might add) who come and go through these towns. In fact our hostess was lamenting the fact that, despite this, this 'season' had been very quiet, and we were to learn over the next few weeks that Quilpie was not on its own in this respect.
So, every afternoon at 1600 hours a torch was put to the pile of wood in the camp fire ring, and as the sun began to set a small (but very select) group gathered
to share sundowners and a travel yarn or two whilst the resident troubadour (of indeterminate but clearly venerable age) did his best to keep us entertained with a decidedly 'country' repertoire (interspersed with the odd somewhat corny joke almost reluctantly delivered).
Although I must (gently) comment that this was far from the most riveting musical presentation we have ever enjoyed, and the descending evening chill did demand that we rugged up, happy hour around the fire did provide a good opportunity to meet others and keep on the lookout for snippets of valuable information about the places we had yet to visit.
I have no hesitation in commenting that we would be more than happy to pitch our tent in this park again, and quite probably will in years to come.
As I hope to share with you in my next few missives, we found Quilpie to be a most interesting town. Opals, 'the end of the line', an unplanned Amy Johnson landing, another grand lookout and a unique church are some of the highlights. Stay turned.
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