OUR KATHERINE PARK AND OUR FIRST SOCIAL ENGAGEMENT (25 - 26 JUNE 2015)

The first comment I must make about our Katherine visit is that we did not explore the town, other than for shopping and other practical forays, nor did I take photos. To be frank, we had both been there before and neither of us are enamoured.....a bit 'dog in the manger' I must admit, but by now I was becoming increasingly aware of just how far behind I was slipping with these blogs...something had to give.  It was Katherine.

The other reason for this change of practice lies in the fact that our stay here was highlighted by some serous socialising (as I shall share later) and this all takes time!

But, as is my want, I did give our park the once over. Why it is called the 'Riverview' remains a mystery. The Katherine hot (?) springs were only a short walk away, but this was hardly a river and we had no views of it. Oh dear, picky, picky!











On arrival I dutifully hove to at the stop sign whilst herself did the business in the office.












The camp kitchen with its outdoor settings is almost opposite the office, 








as is the park pool. We made no use of either, other than to join many in the park on our second night in at a 'country' concert around the camp kitchen area where we lasted for about twenty minutes.....the performances were less than sparkling!








As we made our way down the main park roadway towards our row at the back of the park, we passed several rows of cabins which are all set in delightful garden surrounds. We did visit one of these later that evening as you will see.








This is a big park, and it was busy. Row 














after row of sites were fully occupied. This was high season in Katherine and yet again our practice of always booking ahead was vindicated....we did see others who had not done so being turned away.






We had actually just squeaked in ourselves (our length can be a problem) and found that we had been plonked right in the back corner of the park, where our shade was limited to the mid to late afternoon, but here we soon discovered we had more space around us than just about anyone else in the park including plenty of room for the Cruiser.  




As I probably boringly repeat, this life on the road is all about compromise, and we were soon well set up for the next few days. The air conditioner and shade cloth were more than adequate defences against the morning and early afternoon heat.






And believe it or not, in the gardens immediately behind our site another Bowerbird had built its temple of love. If we had thought those at Lake Argyle were active, this one put them to shame. It's constant scratching, rearranging, chirping and scolding was at a level bordering on demented.....and, in the course of our stay, unsuccessful, despite a few female callers. What incredible efforts these birds go to to have something call them 'dad'.





Given the size of this park, there are several ablution blocks,













two of which were in close proximity to us. Rather oddly, this smaller facility housed a camp BBQ right next to it. An odd placement I thought, but there you are....very convenient (?) for those caught short whilst sizzling a snag.








A short distance along our row from our corner site was the gateway to the path to the Katherine Hot Springs. We did wander down to take the plunge and returned shortly thereafter very disappointed. Hot they were not, crowded they were. Our planned stopover at Mataranka in a few days time took on a new priority!










One of the real assets of this park is the fact that immediately next to it is the 'Barra Cafe' which can be accessed directly from the camp. We put this to very good use.

Whilst they had been doing a quick flit through the west, our very good Darwin based friends Cate and David (erstwhile neighbours from Oleander Street many, many moons ago) had joined us for a few fun-filled days in Bremer Bay. 

During the course of one of several sessions, it was agreed that they would drive down from Darwin and spend a few days with us in Katherine. As it transpired the planned 'few days' became impossible, but they did come down for dinner....I mean what's a return trip of 600 kms for one night with friends to those in NT??

Hence my previous mention of the park cabins, in which they stayed. We were tasked with choosing the Friday night dinner venue. The utter convenience of the Barra Cafe was a very strong selling point (no driving involved)  and I had been assured by the park staff that the meals were excellent. After a quick recce, when I found that this was far more than a 'cafe', the decision was taken and the booking made.

What an evening we had. The wall murals in this real surprise packet of a diner are just lovely,










the service was first class, and on top of this, the Barra Cafe is BYO with no corkage! After so long in WA, where corkage is seen as just another method by which to gouge unwary patrons and force them into buying stocked wines at ridiculously inflated prices, I was in a state of shock.





But how was the meal, I hear you cry. After all this is why you were here. Absolutely outstanding!

The Northern Territory is the only place in Australia where barramundi can be ordered with the complete confidence that what appears on the plate will indeed be the fine tasting wild barra, not that horrid stuff which is farmed in fresh water.

The Barra Cafe is no exception. A huge serve of delicious barra, very good chips, and a good mixed home style salad (not just six different types of leaves and a dob of balsamic) made for one of the best meals we had eaten in many a month. With a fine selection of SA wines in our esky and great company, this became a night to remember.

And whilst on the subject of the wines, you may recall I noted the 'Welcome to Katherine' sign had an additional cautionary note about alcohol consumption in public places. Well believe me, it went much further than that. 

As we wandered into one of Katherine's bottle shops on a quest for our dinner wines, I was confronted by a young NT policewoman who asked to see my driver's licence and asked where we planned to consume our purchases. 

You an probably imagine my reaction! After several polite but decidedly sharp questions as to what business of hers all this was, a youngish Sergeant joined the fray. By this time I was beginning to feel sorry for the young policewoman who was clearly unused to being challenged, and after I explained my background, the conversation became more directed towards what this was all about.

It turned out that the NT's finest were in the middle of a massive 'clean up Katherine' campaign, one instituted as a result of the success of a similar exercise in Alice Springs some time ago (the positive results of which we had noted when last there). The reason for the request for the licence was to preclude any challenge of racial bias.....I'll leave it to you to read between the lines (all these bottle shop entrances were under video surveillance) and the questions regarding the proposed place of consumption were designed to provide cautionary advice to visitors who may have been planning a tipple or two in a public park etc. 

Once all this was explained I was a much calmer person. Indeed, I applauded the initiative (but did suggest some explanations to accompany the questions would be very useful in blunting the reactions of grumpy old men like your scribe). 

And, in another of those extraordinary coincidental meetings on the road, it transpired that the bright and very personable young Sergeant had just completed his NCO course with Zac Winkworth, the son of John Winkworth, a previous colleague of mine (and great mate) from my last job in Adelaide. It is indeed a small world.




But I digress.  After our fine meal at the Barra Cafe we felt obliged to repair to Cate and David's cabin for the odd nightcap or two (or three), and what better time for a spot of really serious conversation......there are many problems in the world to be solved. I'm not quite sure how well we did, but Cate and I did give it our best shot!



We did feel somewhat (but not too much!) for our ex-pat Brit mates as they departed the next morning for the 300 kms return drive to Darwin, but as they had assured us, they are dyed in the wool Territorians by now.....and at the allowed 130 kph on the Stuart, this was but a doddle. In any event, Liz and I were delighted they had made the effort. We can only hope that by the time we return to Kurrimine Beach next July, they will be retired and cosily installed in their newly acquired home in South Mission Beach (which has more than enough room for our van!!)

In our next, we visit Edith Falls and kick our heals up yet again in Katherine, this time with another group of travelling mates.

WE REACH THE STUART HIGHWAY AGAIN - TIMBER CREEK TO KATHERINE (25 JUNE 2015)

We left Timber Creek with a return visit firmly on our 'to do' list. Katherine was in our sights.

A moderate trip of just over 250 kms north-west along the Victoria Highway with a fuel stop at Victoria River Roadhouse was on today's travelling agenda.

We were not long back onto highway when we came across termite mounds, the like of which we had never seen before. This needle like spire was so delicate compared to the 

massive mounds and lumps which are built by many of the different species of these clever little architects.

We never cease to wonder at the variety of construction techniques used, all with the same outcome.....to keep their soft and vulnerable little bodies safe and cool. I'm not sure I'd be waxing quite so lyrical if they were acquiring their building material from my house!

This sector of our journey to the Victoria River Roadhouse traversed countryside with which we were now quite familiar....scrubby grazing plains and distant ranges.

And then we gained our fist glimpse of the river itself.

From what we had learnt at Timber Creek, the size of this waterway did not surprise us. It was good to finally see it at first hand. Rising in the Gregory National  Park, the Victoria flows for 560 kms to empty into the Timor Sea. As I noted in may last, it is renowned for its large barramundi.....next time!

As we neared the Victoria River Roadhouse, 

we were treated to the sight of some of the magnificent escarpments for which the nearby Gregory National  Park is famous.

This park, which covers a staggering 13,000 square kilometres, is home to many such natural wonders, and is firmly in our sights for a more detailed visit when we next make the trek across to this part of the country. For now we had to be content with what we could see from the road....and I'm sure you will agree, it's pretty damn good.

As we pulled into the vast red dirt apron of the roadhouse another surprise greeted us.....bales of hay of all things, and, for me an added bonus. (Liz barely stifled a yawn!) A Robinson R22 had just landed. How outback is this, I ask?

In a later conversation with the pilot's wife, who pulled up in a tray top at the same time, I learnt that they were cattle station folk.  Dad had treated their son to the short trip to the roadhouse before he continued on to Katherine.

And this wasn't the only chopper in the area. Local tourist flights operate out of the roadhouse in a more substantial R44.

The Victoria River Roadhouse is quite a complex. In addition to the expected refuelling and refreshment facilities,

here one can relax in a motel unit

(providing all the paper work has been done!!)

or take up one of the sites on offer in the nearby caravan park.

Oddly enough, for a place like this, there was only one diesel pump, and we were not alone in our quest for fuel,

so we sat tight for a while until the rush was over.

On the road again, and no more than a hop step and jump from the roadhouse, we crossed the Victoria River and could see for ourselves that this is no mere creek (bearing in mind that this was the height of the dry).

Less than 200 kms to go...this is always a good sight.

I'm sure the driver of this huge fuel tanker was thinking the same. His only problem, however, was getting there. As we made our way further along the Victoria Highway, we struck one of the annoying problems which, fortunately, we've only encountered infrequently. 

There is nothing which gives us 'knights of the road' a bad name like the plonkers who insist on towing at sub 80 kph on the open highway, travel in company leaving insufficient room between them, whilst studiously ignoring all behind them. Here we had a classic case. Despite coming across several spots where these inconsiderate idiots could have easily let the tanker through, we all crawled along for a considerable distance before this was achieved.

Then it was our turn. And the final straw....no indication on the rear of the vans that the drivers had CB radios installed, so I had no way of even contacting them to organise a safe passage past. UUURRRGH!

After many minutes of increasing frustration, we were finally clear of these two numskulls and making our way past the first of a series of roadside burn-offs.

By now the landscape was beginning to flatten

although the occasional mountain range still reared above the horizon ahead of us.

Again and again we were reminded that this was still cattle country as we passed numerous stock yards where the mustered bulky grey Brahmans patiently awaited transport to the place of their eventual doom.

By now long relatively open straight stretches of highway were becoming more common, 

as was the frequency of the roadside burning. Fortunately the wind direction was in our favour

but we did have to keep a very close watch on the circling kites which were gathered in large numbers to swoop on the many small ground dwelling rodents as they broke cover to escape the flames. Kites are usually very evasive, but on these occasions the feeding frenzy can be an impediment to good judgement.

But we safely negotiated both fire and fowl and had reached our destination unscathed by either. Here, on the outskirts of the town, we were greeted by an official sign of welcome

which carried an interesting rider, one about which we were to learn a deal more in the days to come.

FAREWELL WESTERN AUSTRALIA - LAKE ARGYLE TO TIMBER CREEK (24 JUNE 2015)

Today was to be a big day for us.....after nearly twenty months in Western Australia we were about to leave the State.  So let's farewell Lake Argyle and our wonderful few days at the resort (apart from no comz!) with a final sunset shot from the hill overlooking Bamboo Cove.

This really is a magic place, and we prepared to leave with decidedly mixed feelings. Overall we had thoroughly enjoyed our stay in WA with all the new things we had seen and done, with old friends visited and new friends made, but we were well and truly over the enormous distances and the totally unjustifiable costs of caravan park accommodation and eating out.

So, with a tad over 200 kms to run, we headed out once again onto the narrow bitumen strip of the Lake Argyle entrance road with its rugged scenery.

New horizons beckoned and the old gypsy feelings had re-emerged. It was good to be seriously 'on the road' again.

Western Australia has the strictest general quarantine laws in the country. Unless it's in a tin, a sealed package or cooked, there is virtually no fruit of vegetable which will gain entry, including, astoundingly, honey in any form. We pulled up opposite the check point

to see how the poor unfortunates coming into the State were faring (and what made you think we were feeling just a touch smug??)

It was but 0845 hours and they were already queueing in droves with more vans arriving by the minute. Given that the WA inspectors do not take prisoners and really go through everything, a wait here of over an hour is not uncommon. We were more than glad to be going the other way.

And there it was......this was an almost surreal moment.  In fact at this point I must admit

that for the next few weeks I would almost constantly refer to 'here' when referring the WA, rather than 'there'.  Liz fared better and was always very quick to correct me, excusing my lapse to any company with whom we may have been engaged at the time with a curt reference to my increasing years! 

State and Territory borders are arbitrary things and nothing we were seeing around us changed. We were still in cattle country,

my favourite trees were still with us

 

and the landscape was still decidedly 'East Kimberley'. Craggy, red escarpments

and rocky outcrops seen over dry long grass and stunted eucalypts (with the odd boab still appearing), remained our scenic companions for most of this day's journey. 

We had a very good run into Timber Creek and were there before we knew it.

We soon discovered that this is a very small town. The main highway skirts most of the residential area in which the 600 or so locals, of which over half are indigenous, live. 

The area was first discovered in 1885 when Sir Augustus Gregory sailed up the nearby Victoria River in his schooner Tom Tom seeking the Australian 'inland sea'.  He set up a base camp where the town now stands and cut timber to repair his ship....hence the name.

Obviously the quest for the inland sea was fruitless, but Gregory's reports of the area soon saw the establishment of the Victoria River cattle station, at the time one of the largest in the country.

Timber Creek remained an isolated, small settlement until the Ord River scheme saw a major increase in traffic through the area. Well prior to that, in fact until the 1930's, Timber Creek was serviced by ships which made their way up the Victoria River, a service which only ceased with the improvement of road transport. Now Timber Creek houses Government services including a school, health and police and the headquarters of local government. Cattle and tourism remain the major industries.

During the second World War the town served as the base for a unique military unit, the 21st Northern Observer Group. With the fear of a Japanese invasion high, this unit, which was led by aboriginal guides, was tasked with constantly scouting the northern coast. The 'Nackeroos' as they were known, never engaged the enemy as we now know, but performed a vital service nevertheless.

Timber Creek retains a close association with the military. In 1996 the Department of Defence bought the nearby Bradshaw Station.  The 8,700 square kilometres of the Bradshaw Training Area was active during our visit.  I actually chatted to a group of US marines refuelling in the town as they made their way to the training ground as part of the annual 'Talisman Sabre' joint Australia - US exercises.

Ours was but an overnight stop, but as well pulled into town

it was obvious we had arrived at rush hour. There we caravans and 4WD's milling about everywhere.

This all settled down after an hour or so when all the travellers had refuelled both their vehicles and themselves and made off again,

 

but we were unconcerned by the chaos as we made our way into the adjoining caravan park, one of two in the town.

As we drove in through the gate it was obvious that we had missed out on a grassy site, 

but we were much more concerned to have good shade....and here, to our great delight (it was still stinking hot) it existed in abundance.

This is a park where there are no defined sites. New arrivals just find a spot and set up. This can occasionally cause a sharp exchange or two when late arrivals park on one's doorstep, but here we had no such problem. There was plenty of room for all.

After a bit of coming and going we made our choice and were soon all set under the canopy of the enormous park trees...'Timber Creek' indeed!  The lack of grass did not bother us.....out came our trusty C-Gear flooring to do another fine job on the dusty surface.

This park sports a few basic cabins,

and some delightful grassed areas, including one unpowered patch for those with tents and camper trailers.

Between us and the amenities block was another fine sward, and, yes, we were not done with the boabs yet!

The ablutions here were basic but adequate and

the adjoining camp kitchen more than up to scratch.

A small annabranch of the Victoria River, which can be viewed from a quaint little suspension bridge, runs along the edge of the park. 

We did not bother for two reasons, the first this rather faded but nevertheless compelling notice on the trunk of the boab,

and secondly because of the overhead wildlife, well known for their penchant to deposit bodily wastes on any who happen to be below......bats, hundreds of them, a few of which can be seen here hanging in the foliage of the trees along the creek banks. We had been warned that they would announce their return to roost in the early morning in no uncertain terms. Fortunately we are early risers and were only annoyed by the cacophony rather than awoken by it.

We had other things to do rather than take personal risks gazing at a minor waterway. It was time for a quick wander around the small Timber Creek CBD, beginning with a visit to the pub which is part of the service station/motel building, 

the rooms of which abutted our park.

Despite its disappointing lack of 'outback colour', this was a very interesting little bar where prominently displayed notices provided a sad commentary on the local social scene.

The first we spotted was this. The barman was somewhat taken aback when I commented that Wednesday must be pension day....we were apparently the first customers to have immediately understood the implications of this restriction (we also strongly suspect that the 'local laws' were actually the pub laws)

This was not the end of it. The aboriginal practice of pestering others for money and/or drinks was obviously an on-going problem, 

and there were also some within the local community whose behaviour in the pub had not covered them with social glory. We had not seen a 'banned' list like this since our visit to the pub in Camooweal, but this one was streets ahead in both the numbers of miscreants, 

and the length of some of the bans. Darryl Darby had clearly been a very naughty boy, and he was not the only one to have been given a life sentance! As the red texta additions demonstrated, this is indeed a 'live' notice.

But mine host had no such problems with the visiting Mobile Marshies...our decorum was above reproach (and at this time of the afternoon we were the only customers)

Mind you, as we left to continue our stroll, the arrival of the local sobriety service paddy waggon, crewed by a couple of hefty ideigenous locals, gave some hint that things may have bcome a little more chirpy later.

Refreshed, we continued our tour, not that this took too long....there is not much to the Timber Creek CBD. Beyond the pub building is the Croc Shop, a haven for an astounding array of touristy bits and pieces, and the local booking agent for Victoria River sunset cruises.

I have to say we were sorely tempted. By all accounts this is a cracker, but after Kununurra and Lake Argyle we decided we were 'cruised out' for the time being. We plan to revisit Tmber Creek with sufficient time up our sleeves to have a very good look at the nearby national parks and the river itself which is renowned for its barramundi.

Almost on top of the Croc Shop is the second town service station and a very appealing cafe and take-away shop where the fare on offer did tempt us briefly.

Just past this is the second of the two Timber Creek caravan parks.  As we took a quick peek we were pleased with our choice.  Whilst the second park is lush with lovely grass, there was barely a tree to be seen. Shade wins out over grass every time in these climes.

Well, for us this time, that was Timber Creek done an dusted.  There was nothing left to be done but to repair back to camp and enjoy a quite evening pre-dinner libation. We did enjoy our brief visit and would stay again at this park at the drop of a hat.

And how did the Black Panther settle into Timber Creek....you be the judge....does this look like a stressed feline?

Tomorrow it's off to Katherine and a rendezvous with Cate and David, our Darwin friends, a catch up which had been planned so many months ago when they joined us in Bremer Bay.  Never a dull moment!