A TALE OF TWO SPRINGS AND A GOOD DECISION (29 JUNE - 1 JULY 2015)

This was to be the moment of truth. Had we made the right choice in staying at Bitter Springs rather than at Mataranka Homestead?  We were about to find out for ourselves.

Just south of the Mataranka township is the turn off to the Homestead and the Mataranka Hot Springs.  A short drive of 7 kms and we were there.

Here at the entrance to the Homestead Lodge and caravan park, stands a replica of the Elsey Station homestead which was used for the movie 'We Of The Never Never'. We did take a quick look through before moving on

past the Homestead motel units 

and on down the pathway to back entrance to the large building which is the Homestead.

This is a pretty big complex.  Apart from the caravan park booking office,

one can lounge and imbibe in the large bar area

or enjoy a meal from the onsite restaurant (cafe?) al fresco.

As was to be expected, there was a large souvenir shop stocked with all the usual goodies, and from what we could gather entertainment is provided most evenings during 'the season'.

As we gazed around the caravan park itself we decided that as far as that went we had made the better choice. Despite the many trees here, the sites themselves seemed far more bare and barren than those at the Mataranka Cabins and Camping grounds.

But this was a secondary consideration...we were here to check out the centre of activity...the hot springs (or thermal pool as they are know here)

Into the Elsey National Park we strolled

and on down the wide pathway through the palm trees.

By the time this had morphed into a board walk we knew we must be close.

Sure enough, here we were at the Mataranka Hot Springs (sorry, thermal pools)

where those taking the plunge are confined to the quite large, rock lined central pool

or another smallish area which is a touch more as nature made things.

Having seen all this we were now convinced that we had made the correct decision to cast our lot with the waters of Bitter Springs.

The walk from our park to this tropical aquatic playground was a little longer than at the Homestead, approximately half a kilometre along the bitumen road beyond the park entrance.

This was a road well used on a daily basis. Visitors in their hordes would drive in for a quick dip.  Most parked in the designated bays,

but as usual at these types of places, there were always some who took the view that they would plonk where they chose, irrespective of the traffic congestion this may create.

Our transport to the pools was a much more simple matter....good old shank's ponies', carrying the necessary 'noodle' over our shoulders.

Here at Bitter Springs a noodle is an essential bit of kit as you will shortly see. But first there is the entrance pathway through the dappled shade to be negotiated.

In no time we arrived at the steps leading down to the warm waters of the springs where there is a one major point of difference between these and those at the Homestead.

Here at Bitter Springs the water flows. Once Liz negotiated the steps with what I considered to be exaggerated care (I used to just flop in with an almighty splash, much to her chagrin...."what about everyone already in here?" "They're already wet, a bit more won't hurt them". Impeccable logic I thought)

and had adjusted the noodle properly under her arms,

and was floating comfortably, 

she was all set to let the gentle current of these warm waters waft her away downstream.

What a delightful experience this is floating along in the sunlight through broad

and narrow stretches of this crystal clear water

until after about fifteen minutes one arrives at another set of steps

which lead to the pathway which returns all the happy water babies to the starting point within the space of two minutes or so.

And then, guess what?  Everyone jumps in and does it all over again.....as many times as one wants to!

Three downstream floats was enough for us on each visit, but we did come back several times. This was so much more fun than the alternative. We had gotten it right!  Right park, right hot springs, right time of the year. Marvellous. Mataranka had been all we had hoped it would be. Another item ticked off the bucket list.

Speaking of which, our next stop was also to achieve a similar purpose. The Daly Waters Hotel is legendary. We were about to add it to our list of iconic Aussie pubs, which already inludes the Nindigully Pub and the Lions Den.  

MATARANKA TOWNSHIP, WE OF THE NEVER NEVER, AND THE SKY LIGHTS UP (30 JUNE - 1 JULY 2015)

Mataranka is not big, but at this time of the year it certainly bustles. Tourists flock here to wallow in the hot springs. Like us, many stay for a few days, others pop in for a quick splash.

The Stuart Highway is the town's main street and it traverses it from one end to the other, gun barrel straight.

The turn off to Bitter Springs and our camp is at this northern end of the town

just beyond which, and on the same side of the highway, is the open space of the Stan Martin park. As you might imagine, Stan was a local 'doer' of significance over many years.

And here we find a reminder of other locals, two who arrived well before Stan. Aeneas Gunn and his wife Jeannie took up residence at the nearby Elsey Station in 1902 where Aeneas had been appointed manager. He unfortunately died shortly thereafter, but his wife later became famous as the author of what is still regarded as one of the finest books dealing with outback station life.....'We Of The Never Never'. 

One of her most endearing characters, 'The Little Black Princess', is also remembered here in the park together with a stockman and Chinese cook. We were to have another encounter with the Gunns later.

Opposite the park at this end of town are the Mataranka Police Station

and the local school, almost hidden behind a mass of what imagine are most welcome shade trees.

Just beyond the park is one of the biggest small town parking bays we have ever come across. At the time of the morning when I was wandering through the town snapping away things here were relatively quiet, 

but that certainly changed later in the day, as it does on most.

One of the most striking features of this park is the huge banyan tree at it northern end.










What, from a distance, looks like an enormous trunk is in fact a mass of trailing roots.  As the tree grows and spreads, it sends down these 'prop roots' to support its ever increasing mass of branches and foliage, and as you can see from this example, they can grow to a massive size.




All of Mataranka's business and commercial buildings are lined up on the western side of the main street. They include several service stations, beginning with the most northern of them. Initially I wondered how these would all survive, but as the day wore on the volume of traffic in the town soon answered that question.








The local hotel/motel is an interesting establishment.












We did darken its door on one brief occasion to test the veracity of the sign out the front, but found this to be a questionable assertion. Sadly the interior of the pub did nothing to encourage a second beer.










The motel units next door are equally unpretentious. We were rather glad that this was not our temporary domicile.

Almost completely hidden behind its screen of foliage is the Mataranka Gallery and cafe. Were it not for the garish yellow sign out the front, it would be quite easy to miss this place altogether. 

Not so the Mataranka museum, where the flagpoles make quite a statement. 











Next to the museum building is another which really caught my eye.....The Rural Transaction Centre no less. What on earth goes on here?

A very strange mix of services, according to the sign at the front. This quaint tin building houses Australia Post, an Internet connection facility, the local library, office services and, just what every local needs, the Australian Taxation Office. What more could you want?









The Mataranka general store (and servo) is a relatively imposing building 












standing at the southern end of the main 'Mataranka CBD', from where I took the opportunity to look back north along the highway.










In the park at this end of town one finds a real surprise.....a huge termite mound. I was about to concede that this topped the lot when a close look revealed that it is but a very large replica, one which is accompanied by several information boards.







Although these were suffering a little from wear and tear, they did provide a wealth of information about these industrious little critters whose homes feature so prominently throughout the Australian outback.








Apart from all else on display in the main street of Mataranka at the time of our visit, one feature dominated the scene......hoardings and banners advertising the sale of fireworks! They were everywhere, on the pub










the gem store

and the third service station, to name but three. It seemed that all but a few of the entire Mataranka commercial community was offering fireworks for sale.





This demanded some investigation.....and the answer was......'Territory Day', of course!  On 1 July each year the good folk of the Northern Territory gather in all sorts of spots to celebrate the anniversary of the granting of their independence by the Commonwealth. 

And they do it with fireworks, publicly and privately. We could not believe the fervour with which the Territorians embrace the opportunity for a good old fashioned 'cracker night'.  But there's a catch. All these bangers, roman candles, sky rockets and pin wheels can only be bought on one day, the day itself, 1 July.  So every business which stocks these personal incendiaries advertises like mad with large and colourful signs (as we saw) in the hope that theirs will be the place where many will make their once a year purchase.

And, in the inconceivable circumstances that any of these little personal packets of gunpowder are not actually ignited and used for the purpose for which they were made, they must by law be returned to the place of purchase........right!  We heard bangs and thumps for days afterwards. 

There is, of course, an annual public argument about the number of fires and personal injuries which result from these festivities, but in true Territory fashion, the official line is "go for it" (or words to that effect).  When you spend your life living with crocodiles, venomous snakes and spiders and all sorts of other biting, stinging and life threatening beasts, what are a few burns once a year?




So, in the true tradition of 'when in Rome', we took ourselves off to the Mataranka Territory Day celebrations at the local show grounds where we soon realised that despite the small local population, this promised to be a real treat (the local Fireies were already on stand-by)

In true country style, the show ground was soon ringed by vehicles of all descriptions.










A good range of food was on offer, all catered by a local women's volunteer charity group,














and of course, what's night out without a sideshow or two, which, on my observation, provided a bit of colour but attracted very little business.









As the sun set over the Mataranka treeline the sense of anticipation heightened.  What sort of a show would we get here in this tiny town?

In short.....an absolute ripper...twenty minutes of it. This was as good as New Year's Eve at the Bay!








I had to doctor the exposure of this shot somewhat for obvious reasons, but this said it all for us. Two white kids from a nearby cattle station (we had overheard a previous conversation) and their little aboriginal mate, all perched open mouthed on the fence as the night sky exploded with colour and noise. 





What a fitting way to end our Mataranka experience, in real time that is. Missive wise, we have yet to visit the competing hot springs of the district which we shall do in our next (now that I've managed to get some of the photos back!!!!)

WE ARE HACKED! (1 OCTOBER 2015)

Before continuing with our travels I have to announce that on our arrival in Goulburn (real time 1 October) our computer was the subject of a cyber attack which infected all our files with an encryption which rendered them useless.

And of course, a message on our screen made it clear that unless we contacted the bastards who were responsible and paid a fee, all the infected files would be destroyed. Hooray.....all my stored photos gone....I'll leave it to you to imagine my reactions! 

Fortunately Liz downloads the photos onto a separate hard drive, and had done so for all but a few of the most recent. Unfortunately from my perspective, she has edited them to reduce the number we have kept. So, whilst we have managed to restore a selection of the photos, they do not include many that I would have used. The obvious upshot is that from now on I shall be forced to share much less of our adventures than I had planned (do I hear some unkind expressions of relief???).

As for the outcome of all this.  Firstly let me say that this incident was the last straw in what had been a very trying day...more of that in due course....and meant that we now had to scour Goulburn for a computer expert who could hopefully get rid of the infection (and possibly save the files).  There was no way we were even going to turn the laptop on, let alone use it in any way, until it had been cleaned up. 

The demand for payment from the ferals who had hacked us was never going to happen....I would have rather ditched the computer and bought a new one than give into those (insert a word, or words, of your own choosing!)

To our great relief, after some hunting around, we came across a real local whiz kid who was familiar with the virus with which we had been affected.  After hours of work he managed to disinfect our computer but, as he had predicted, could not save our stored material.  

So folks, as is obvious, we are now back in action again.  I am beginning to think that I'm just never destined to catch up, although per force the missives from now on will be considerably shorter on pictorial detail than would have otherwise been the case.

Back to Mataranka and beyond shortly.