The Greatest Journey -- Stations and Crossroads

In the morning we were given a really special treat, a visit to Rupee Station. Rupee Station is where Isabella and I were to have spent the night but because of the raging creek we were prevented. It's only about 15 kilometers outside Broken Hill and owned by Corey's girlfriend's dad, who is a famous environmental lawyer apparently.

Isabella and I climbed into Corey's 4WD and he drove us out to the station, past a locked gate, the now dry creek bed and a set of railway tracks. The morning was cloudy but broken clouds and I had seen on the Bureau of Meteorology website that no further rain was forecast and the trough causing it had stalled, meaning we were in for fine weather finally. On arriving at the house, Isabella and I received a tour of the property, or station as they are known in Australia.

As far as stations go, this one is not very big but that doesn't mean much when stations can be several thousand hectares and be considered average. The largest, Anna Creek in South Australia, is the size of Belgium! The first thing Isabella and I did was bottle feed some 2 or 3 day old lambs; the owner said Isabella was a natural. I found it really fun except when the lambs got a bit fidgety. Walking around the property we saw the remnants of its mining days which consisted of rusted implements like shovels and tea pots. There was a shearing shed complete with a herd of sheep, there was a ram with an especially forceful personality, some cows, a few horses, some chickens and 2 dogs. It was very much a typical Australian sheep station. We were there only about 2 hours but Isabella and I had a great time. If I'm ever back that way I'm definitely going out for a visit.

After parting with Corey, Isabella and I were on the next leg of our journey. We stopped in a shop that sold silver and Isabella bought herself another pair of earrings. From there, it was back on to the Barrier Highway and into South Australia.

Our destination was a little rest stop north of Port Augusta. Not far from Broken Hill we reached the state border at Cockburn which wasn't much more than a gas station and a restaurant. The next place wee stopped was called Olary and it even though it was almost nowhere, it did have a train station, of sorts. Isabella and I had picked up some supplies but we read signs that there was a quarantine inspection station no too far within South Australia so we had some lunch at Olary before continuing on. As far as I know, Australia is the only country in the world that has quarantine zones within its borders.

Although the Barrier Highway is the main road into South Australia from NSW there wasn't much traffic to speak of. I guess because it was summer and the highway is pretty remote anyway. I remember pulling to the side of the road to finish off a salad just before the inspection station and when I went to restart the motor, it wouldn't go. I tried a few more times and nothing. As Isabella and I sat there wondering what was going on and how would we get help on this lonely stretch of road, I suddenly realized that I had left the car in drive. On a hunch, I put it in park and then turned the key --- the engine came to life. I can't tell you how relieve we both were.

After a little more driving we reached the head of the Spencer Gulf, the location of Port Augusta. Port Augusta is only a small city but quite an important one. Firstly, it supplies much of South Australia's power via some very large power stations. Why they put them there, I don't know. Secondly, Port Augusta is at the crossroads of Australia and this is how it advertises itself. All the major north-south and east-west road and rail links across Australia join at Port Augusta. It's also, as the name suggests, a port town and is home to a fishing fleet. Unfortunately our first introduction to Port Augusta wasn't that impressive as the coastal marshes really smelled terrible as we drove in. And, for the record, this is another place which is the hometown of one of my many Australian acquaintances, Sam. Isabella and I didn't stay in Port Augusta and we continued driving north on the Stuart Highway. About 60 kilometers north of the city, we reached our destination.

The weather had finally cleared up and Isabella and I were anxious for some more camping. We parked in a highway rest top zone under a big metal roof. There were some information panels that gave the history of the region. Isabella took out her gas cooker and we both sat down to a well-cooked pasta meal. We also saw the sun set with brilliant hues of red, orange and purple. We were finally glad to be rid of the rain and looking forward to the next few days which would take us into the very heart of the continent.