Farewell to a great city that has everything! This has been the most amazing 4 days learning about Broken Hill and sharing the wonders of the landscapes, the red dirt and sunsets and on the other hand, marvelling at the mines, the huge machinery and above all, the sheer grit and determination of the pioneers and miners that have made it what it is.   Broken Hill has character!

So off we head to White Cliffs, some 300km drive, past Sulphide St, Bromide St, Oxide St, Gypsum St, down Iodide St and onto the Barrier Highway.   Every street named after a mineral – love it!

Long stretches of straight ribbon-like roads.   Shimmers in the road look like water spread over the road far ahead!   Not possible in the outback at this time so until we sink into water, they will continue to be shimmers!

So many 'roos and emus.   Not quite so much road kill.

White Cliffs wasn't on our horizon originally, but once I looked at a travel brochure I was hooked and wanted to see this little, opal rich, outback town.   Founded in the 1890's it was born with the discovery of opal.   Long gone are the days of prosperity, however what remains is a population of passionate, eccentric and largely colourful people.   It is peaceful and quiet and these folk show their ingenuity with all manner of ‘stuff’ used to dig and transport the diggings to the surface.    The really old trucks and tractors, cars and generators are everywhere giving an impression of a ramshackle town used as a dumping ground.   I think it is far from that, the immense skies and colours of the earth take you aback.

We found the caravan park easy enough – there is not much here in the way of township.   A great park with concrete stands, large sites, great amenities blocks and kitchen and $20 a night.   This council owned and run by a committee of volunteers.   All profit is poured back into the park to upgrade, usually completed with volunteer labour.   If you are looking for grass, high dry temperatures, no flies and no dust, then don't come.   This is the outback and this is how it is!   Awesome – for a while anyway J

We set up and went for a drive around the established houses and mines.    Houses are built into the side of hills with only the frontage showing.   The rest of the house is basically underground.   The temperatures here in summer are high 40’s to 50’s in the shade with no respite.   Constant cool temperature of around 21 degrees underground is perfect for living, but most opal mine owners arrive around Easter and leave in October which is the cooler season so as to avoid the heat.

We drove out to the opal fields where you can stake a claim and lease a 50 x 50 metre block – nothing bigger, or you can just fossick the tailings from the myriad of holes dug by others, in their search for a rich seam.   The area looks like a moonscape with the craters of hundreds of mines dotted all around for as far as the eye can see.   Human ant holes, estimated at over 50,000!

We visited a couple of opal showrooms, which showcased the local opals and the skill of the miners, many of whom set their own stones in silver themselves.

I had heard, from one of the more colourful gallery owners, that there were some graves behind the caravan park, so with my fascination (no, it is not morbid) of old graves off we went, as the sun was going down, tracking through the ochre red dirt out back of the camp.   We found the graves, about 7 children of different ages, mostly from the same family who died in this harsh place where there was no medicine for diphtheria and the like and no doctors anyway.   What the settler families went through, we have no real comprehension of.

We marvelled at the desert breeze and wind which is cooling, the massive sunsets and immense expanse of starlit skies at night and the sheer magic of this quirky place.   We decided to watch the sunset and then drive out onto the dirt road to do some wildlife spot lighting.  

We had an awesome time. For around an hour we drove and spotted so many kangaroos and emus interspersed with goats.   Travelling slowly so as not to spook them we encountered them feeding in family groups just doing their thing.   Actually, we were surprised at how calm they were on the side of the road picking at what little stubble there was.  

Next morning we were up bright and early, shovels, small tong and mallets in hand.   A fossicking we will go, a fossicking we will go, we’re going to strike it rich, a fossicking we will go!

Yes, well, maybe not!   Even though it was early the sun beat down on us relentlessly.   The flies crawled over our faces, on our sunnies, buzzed in our ears, up our nose and on our lips.   I didn't use any spray on my face and actually got used to them a bit, not waving them away constantly as I usually do.   So we climbed up and down the hundreds of tailings searching …  for what!   Didn't know exactly what to look for but after splitting open numerous rocks we figured what not to look for.   I went for the bigger mounds of tailings hoping that the depth of the mine may indicate its richness, then looked for bigger rocks in the tailings.  I only found one such rock, which did actually offer me up milky opal. Not a lot, possibly nothing can be made from it, but I found it and it was mine!

No more to be found and after a couple of hours, our back and knees declared enough was enough you silly old b*****s, go back to camp.   Actually, the wind and 33 degrees took it out of us a bit, and we were a bit weary when we got back to camp. A little lie down after I cooked up some fried eggs, mushrooms and tomato – makes you a bit peckish this mining lark!

A fossicking we did go, a fossicking we did go, the sun was hot and the flies were rich, we have to call this fossicking a b****, a fossicking we did go.

After a rest we decided to drive the 50km to Peery Lake in the Paroo-Darling National Park, Barrier Ranges  – doubted that it would have water but we thought the drive would be interesting.  

I know I have loosely used the term ‘in the middle of nowhere’ on numerous occasions so this has to be in the middle of the middle of nowhere!   I don't find it boring driving these plains with the long stretches of red earth.    The sun is beating down enriching the terracotta earth colours even more so.

A big flock of green and yellow budgies swoop down right by my window.   Bill happened to be looking my way and had a grand split second view.   I only saw the blur of colour! Missed it by that much Chief!

We couldn't believe the number of kangaroos.   The dirt road was terracotta red as were the surrounding plains which stretched before and beside us, sparsely covered with low lying brush, a kangaroo or two under nearly every one even those on the roadside, anything which afforded a bit of shade in the now 35 degree dry heat!   A few kilometres on emus joined the ranks.   Australian coat-of-arms photo opportunities presented themselves everywhere, but you had to be quick!   I think I only managed one shot as the emus and their young, were not as calm as the ‘roos and they ran elegantly off – a little spooked.

On and on we drove, no signs of civilisation, no other vehicles. Just us, kicking up a red dust storm in our path, and the ‘roos and emus.    As expected, the only glimpse of water in this massive lake, was in the far distance and miles from the Lake car park.  Once full, it can hold water for up to 3 years.   That is one massive lake!

So, not much to see here so we head back.   Within 10 minutes of driving Bill slows.   We can see something in the distance on the side of the road.   Maybe a large black plastic bag billowing in the wind.   As we get closer we see it is an emu flailing around in the red dust.   Do they take dust baths like small birds?   But I could see another lifeless emu lying beside this, now visibly, distraught creature.   We had only passed this way not 20 minutes before, and unbelievably, in that time someone had been on the road and knocked them both down, killing one instantly and leaving this poor creature to die in agony.

No hesitation from Bill as I knew would be the case.   We stopped and he took the necessary measures to put this poor big bird out of its misery.   No detail is necessary for the reader, but this was a dreadful gut-wrenching thing to do and left us both clinging to one another, in the middle of this red earth of the outback, crying huge tears.

Each with our own thoughts and emotions, we climbed back in the car to continue, only to be uplifted in spirits quickly by the life, and not death, of this vibrant place, with ‘roos and emus bounding and running around us on the drive back to camp.

I really enjoyed White Cliffs.   The peacefulness, the quirkiness of the dwellings, the incredibly huge night sky and just being.