Day 10: Julia Creek – Cloncurry – Mt Isa – Camooweal

It will probably be a short blog tonight. We had a long drive and I’m feeling a bit weary. And I did battle with the people at the Mt Isa BCF this afternoon, just so I could get a gas bottle refilled.

But that is a whole other story.

Last night we stayed at the JC RV park, right up close to the water. Or billabong, maybe? It was very pretty, and very quiet. Very serene, very relaxing.

And a spectacular sunset. Seriously, we are getting spoiled with the sunsets out here.

I managed to get the radio out last night before it got too dark, and the first thing I heard on 20m (14.205MHz) was someone in North Carolina talking with someone in Australia.

Then I managed to make a contact with a guy who was operating portable (from a National Park) at Noosa Heads.

Dinner, early to bed, and up early this morning.

We rolled out of the JC RV park before 8.00am, unfed and un-caffeinated. I’d had a shower at least, so I was mostly awake.

Just not my usual, cheery, caffeinated self.

We hadn’t even unhooked Percy from Elsie overnight, so it was a quick operation to plug in the plugs and head off. Topped up Elise’s tank again heading out of JC and we were on our way.

Cloncurry was only about 130km (1.5 hours) away, and we figured that we could make it that far without killing each other. A lack of caffeine can cause us to be unpredictable, or irrational. Possibly even hostile.

Straight, flat, featureless, roads, as far as the eye can see. Not even a tree to be seen, most of the time.

We rolled into Cloncurry about 9.30 and set off looking for a coffee shop or cafe for coffee and a snack for breakfast.

I have been to Cloncurry in a previous life, being the well-travelled gentleman that I am … although I acknowledge that it was probably 14 or 15 years ago, but then nothing changes in these small towns, right?

Well, either Cloncurry has changed or my memory is … um … sorry, I forget.

Anyway I had a vague recollection of a straight road and an RSL (or Bowls Club, or Pub, or …) and those memories seemed to come together.

We used Cloncurry’s dump point and emptied the toilet cassette, even without the light having come on yet. (I know, right? How progressive are we?)

It always concerns me when something is advertised as “friendly”. Cloncurry, the friendly heart. It just sets expectations, and it often means that unnecessary extra words are being used.

Like “fresh fish”. I mean, seriously, why would you buy fish if it wasn’t fresh? It’s just “fish”.

But I digress.

Coffee and banana cake. It was very nice, and postpones divorce a bit longer.

Yes MBW. Adulting IS hard!

It turns out that Cloncurry wasn’t the hub of excitement that I recall from last time I was there, so we kept rolling towards Mt Isa.

I rang the Mt Isa BCF before we rolled out of Cloncurry to confirm that they have gas to do gas refills … and I was advised that they could not do any gas refills until 1.00pm because they are short-staffed.

Interesting.

So that just means that we don’t bust our boilers to get into Mt Isa, and we have a relaxing trip.

So wet set off on the Barkly Highway, heading west.

The scenery from Cloncurry to Mt Isa kept changing, with lots of rock formations, trees, and winding, hilly roads.

Mount Isa. Proudly sponsored by Ariat boots.

We rolled into Mt Isa around 11.45am. A bit over an hour until we can get gas, so we found a Coles supermarket and jagged a parking space right outside in the shade. Ok, we took up the space of 3 cars, but we found a parking space!!

In the shade!

If you’ve been following since the beginning, you may remember that MBW was quite ill right before we left, and I was also not feeling 100% although I was less sick than MBW.

Well it turns out that we are now counting the cost of us both being sick, and neglecting to pack some things that we’d planned to bring with us. Like a mat for the ground outside the van. Or an iron.

It also seems like a good excuse for MBW to do a bit of a wardrobe refresh, because each time we stop she remembers another important part of her outfit that she is missing, and we go searching for it.

Or maybe I’m just being cynical because I can wear the same T-shirt, shorts, socks and shoes for a week and think nothing of it?

I change my undies most days. I’m not completely barbaric.

We still had time to kill before BCF can supply us gas, so we decided to do the Underground Hospital tour. Now, TBH, anything touristy with the word “underground” in it is not something I get excited about, but we decided to do it anyway.

Made the mistake of taking Elsie and Percy down a no through road and needed to do a 75 point turn to get them pointing back the other way again so we could get back out.

Actually I lied about that. The 75 point turn was option 1, but resourceful Geoff put Elsie into 4WD and we did a bit of “off-roading” with Percy in tow, through the hospital carpark and back to the street entrance.

Crisis averted.

The underground hospital was not a government initiative – it was dug out by the people of Mt Isa during the war in 1942, and they did it in their own time.

All very interesting, but not the sort of place where I would want to go and have a baby, or have surgery.

Doing a final circuit of the hospital museum, I (literally) bumped into an elderly woman from a bus tour that had just arrived, and she said it “wasn’t every day that she bumped into a tall, dark, and handsome man”. OK, so she got one out of three correct, and I don’t really consider myself that tall.

By now it was 1.30pm. Time to find BCF, get gas, and be on our way.

Me: “Hello, can I get a 9kg gas refill, please?”

Destiny (seriously, that was her name): “Sorry, we can’t do gas refills until 2.00pm because the manager hasn’t had lunch yet.”

If the connection between Destiny’s boss having lunch and their ability to dispense gas eludes you, join the club. I assume that it has something to do with having a required number of staff with a working braincell in the store at the same time.

Specifically, staff that can multi-task. You know, like being able to chew gum and think at the same time.

So we waited until 2.00pm and tried again.

It turns out that the young dude who started the complicated process of filling gas bottles – put on your PPE shirt, put on your gloves, put on your safety glasses, get the tool bag, um … – was likely only rowing with one oar anyway, because his first achievement was to give the wrong gas bottle to the wrong customer, so the right customer kicked up a fuss.

A huge fuss that Destiny was overheard describing as a “situation”. As in “we have a situation”.

Anyhow, you get the idea. By 3.00pm (yep, 3.00pm!) we were back on the Barkly and heading towards tonight’s camp.

Which we hadn’t decided yet, as it turned out.

There was a place just outside of Camooweal – not dissimilar to last night’s RV park – that looked OK and was only another couple of hours onwards. That means a couple of hours closer to wherever we want to be the next night.

The only concern with this Camooweal lagoon-side camping is that some previous reviewers have reported that some people poop on the ground.

I mean seriously, would I make that up?

Turns out it is true. And I nearly stepped in someone’s poop.

I mean seriously, anyone that poops on the ground in a public camping area makes the Mt Isa BCF peeps seem like Albert Einstein in comparison.

Anyhoo, we found a spot, got everything level, avoided the poop, had an early dinner and admired the sunset.

We had decided that we would try to stop and join a local church service wherever we find ourselves on a Sunday morning.

Tomorrow is Sunday.

Despite some feverish Googling, it appears that the options in Camooweal (population 236, or 310 if you believe the sign coming into town) are fairly limited.

And when I say “fairly limited”, you would not be incorrect to use the literal translation of “non-existent”.

So maybe we will just give it a miss. Again.

We have now run out of cold press coffee, with no time to make more before tomorrow. So if there is no blog tomorrow, it is possible that MBW has killed me and hidden my body around Camooweal.

Call for help. Feel free to describe me as tall, dark and handsome.

Ciao

#Retirement2024

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