You could’ve knocked me down with a feather!
When people say, “It’s beyond the black stump” they mean that it’s way out beyond the reaches of civilisation. I always thought it was a metaphor.
It turns out that the old-timers were referencing a real thing.
This site marks the original «astro station”
established in 1887 by the Surveyor General.
The stump was used to hold large scientific
equipment that took measurements to establish
latitude and longitude in Blackall with the
fixtures later used to position towns from
Brisbane to Boulia via Roma and Charleville.
This established the positions
of important centres from which
survey work for the colony could
be connected, ensuring accurate
mapping of the entire state.
This is a replica, as the original one was destroyed in a bushfire a hundred years ago, but it stands on the same site.
As a lover of language, I was tickled pink!
I saw a few of these bottle trees by the side of the road.
All of this green by the highway meant that it would be enticing for grazing animals. I had to keep a close watch.
As the day went on, I began to see more and more wild goats.
The red earth is still here, but I’m seeing it less and less.
Consider this photo as a warning!
If you’re ever in Charleville and see this “Historic House” – don’t go into it. It was the biggest waste of $10 I’ve ever spent. The very deaf man at the door told me that it was full of a collection that a man had carefully curated.
It wasn’t.
It was like a Bower Bird in human form had grabbed anything old that they came across and shoved it into this house. At least Bower Birds only take things that are coloured blue. This guy just exhibited everything.
It was a waste of time.
I was doing 110 km/hr down the highway and I doubled back to get this photo. Someone out here has great taste in music.
I saw a sign that pointed to “The Beach”. Here, in the middle of the country??? I swung the wheel and took a look.
It was nothing. But I did get to see these lovely horses.
I was driving along, listening to Art Simone’s podcast ‘Concealed’ when out of nowhere this sign jumped out at me. I jammed on the brakes to take this shot.
Victoria.
South Australia.
The Northern Territory.
Queensland.
And now New South Wales.
Remember when I said that when we left Melbourne my car was at 100,000 km?
It’s now on 105K.
Not bad, hey? I drove just over 1,000 km today and I was tired. One motel wanted to charge me $220 for one night and I told them that I’d rather sleep in my car (though I really hoped that I wuldn’t have to.)
Anyway, right down the road in a dodgy part of town is a pub that let me stay for $75/night. It doesn’t have an ensuite but seeing as I’m the only female staying here who’ll be using the girls’ bathroom, I’m ok with that.
***
The next day, I woke up and it was POURING! Who has ever heard of rain in Bourke? I told a couple of people at the visitors Centre that they’ve clearly been telling lies to the rest of us and they smiled and said, “We’ve been hanging out for this rain.”
I could believe them.
The trouble was, when it rains it makes all of the dust in Bourke turn to mud.
I discovered this when I went to the graveyard to look for Fred Hollows’ grave. I was wearing my new summer sandals. I was jumping from hillock to hillock to try and avoid getting the mud into them.
This graveyard was separated into sections depending on which religion the deceased subscribed to.
I felt sorry for this lone grave, so far from home.
Old graveyards like this one have lots of sad graves. This was a hard place to bring up kids, back in the day.
Sadder still was this grave. There’s no headstone or anything else to mark it except this fence, which is on its way out.
A little lamb with her to keep her company…
After wrestling with Google Maps, I finally realised what it was trying to tell me and I found Fred Hollows’ grave.
What an extraordinary man he was.
The whole site is in the shape of an eye.
There’s a large rock and a sculpture here that the family commissioned.
…
How sad his parents must have been.
This was interesting. It’s a mosque that existed for the Ghan camel herders.
Then I discovered another silo, of course.
“This project was to celebrate the accomplishments of Percy Hobson, a Gnamba man who won the Gold medal for high jump at the Commonwealth Games, Perth in 1962 jumping 2.11m which was the Olympic record at the time, Percy trained himself for this accomplishment by practising to jump in his backyard in Bourke.
Along with the boxer Jeff Dynevor, who won a Bantamweight Gold Medal at the same games, Hobson was the first Indigenous athlete ever to win Commonwealth Gold for Australia.”
It is just outside the main drag.
Then I headed back to the Info Centre to eat lunch and piggyback off their free wifi to get some blogging done. They have some sculptures along the right side of the centre to celebrate the indigenous people.
I think this one was the best.
I stayed most of the afternoon. As time passed, the rain stopped and it got humid.
I went back to the pub, took my wine to the verandah on the first floor overlooking the street and watched as at 6 PM, the stampede began as the pub’s dining room opened and the locals converged.
I ate the first crumbed cutlets I’ve had since childhood – they’re too expensive now! – and crawled into bed. Only a couple more days’ driving to go before the Crazy Roadtrip turns into the Lazy Roadtrip.
Dad Joke of the Day:
You’ve certainly covered some miles in a short time.
I’ve done over 7,000 kms now. Still haven’t made it home!
Enjoying your trip:)
Thanks. So am I!