White Cliffs

I visited the iconic opal mining town of White Cliff in February 2003. At the time, I’d embarked on a six-day circuit of the New South Wales outback with my friend Enda in tow. This is the second of three posts about our Kodak-era adventures.

The road to White Cliff was an adventure in and of itself. Shortly after leaving Wilcannia, the tar seal ended, and the road reverted to graded red dirt. For the next 50km, we slowly weaved around ruts, potholes and through pools of muddy water. More than once, I wondered if we’d soon find ourselves bogged in the middle of the desert. 

Despite a few hair-raising moments we made it safely to White Cliff as the sun kissed the horizon. What a sunset! On the edge of town, we climbed a ridge of opal tailings and soaked up an iridescent landscape of jumbled red dirt. The image below simply doesn’t do it justice. 

I booked us into an Underground B&B. Like many homes in this opal mining town, our accommodation was built into a hillside alongside a miner’s active claim. Although, much to our host’s surprise, we rocked up a day ahead of schedule. Hours before we’d walked into a hotel we’d booked in Cobar, disliked it and kept driving.

As luck would have it, our unsuspecting B&B hosts had arrived home minutes before after being away for several days. Edna and I shamelessly played dumb and insisted we’d booked the correct date. Our hosts graciously agreed to accommodate us ahead of schedule. They also apologized for offering a simple pasta meal as they hadn’t restocked their pantry. Then after dinner, they took us on a tour of their home’s private opal mine.

Many White Cliff locals live underground “dugouts” year-round. It’s the coolest place in the Outback where outdoor temperatures can soar above 40 C for weeks on end in Summer. This was the first time I’d ever slept in an underground home. A feat that wasn’t repeated until Garry and I spent two nights underground in Cooper Pedy in 2019.

I’d wanted to visit White Cliff after watching contestants from the TV reality show, The Amazing Race, playing golf on its barren nine-hole course. We simply had to play a game so the following morning our hosts helped us track down the local “greenskeeper”. We hired a set of clubs and some balls and set about playing nine holes on the oddest course I’ve ever encountered. I’m not too proud to admit that we both lost balls. However, I still finished with the best score.

The golf course is the ultimate outback experience. No grass at all, narrow fairways, lots of saltbush, plenty of out-of-bound zones and a few hazards including gravel, dry creek beds and burrow holes. To protect your club from damage, you’re given a small mat of artificial turf that you carry with you. The local rules allow you to move your ball one club length onto your portable mat for each shot, while the greens are simply rolled, fine gravel, occasionally damped down with oil.

 

White Cliffs is also home to the world’s first commercial solar power station, built in 1980. On the outskirts of town, 14 shiny concave dishes focus the sun’s energy to generate superheated steam. We saw it from a distance as we drove into town, returning the next day for a closer look. It’s easy to forget that two decades ago, solar power was still in its infancy. While preparing this post, I learned that the White Cliff station ceased operation in 2005, two years after my visit.

Follow this link for more outback adventures as we explore Broken Hill and the Murray River.

A very outback adventure

I visited Broken Hill for the first time (and thus far, only time) in February 2003. It had been a lifelong dream to visit this iconic outback mining town. My dream was inspired by a 16mm movie I’d seen at primary school while living in Dunedin—around 1974. I’d have been eight years old at the time.

Once a month the school took delivery of hefty film reels of documentaries and teaching films. The projector would be set up in the school library and the windows covered by blackout curtains. Classrooms then took turns watching the latest delivery of celluloid adventures.

For reasons I may never understand, a film about mining and life in Broken Hill captured my imagination. The town it depicted was simply the most exotic, remote and magical place my young mind could comprehend. Perhaps it stuck with me, simply because it opened my eyes to the wider world around me for the first time.

In February 2003 I was suffering from burnout. I’d been working insanely long hours, and travelling continually for more than nine months, following my recent appointment as Asia Pacific (APAC) Regional Director for Text 100. After a rather unpleasant run-in with my CEO, my Regional HR Director and I agreed it would be wise for me to take a few weeks off.

After a week of sitting around home, I decided to book myself a road trip to Broken Hill, and on to the Murray River, before returning to Sydney. The final circuit I mapped out covered more than 2,700km, spread over seven days. Along the way, it ticked off plenty of bucket list destinations including the Parkes Radio Telescope. 

 At the last minute Edna, a close friend, decided to join me on the trip. He’d just split from his long-term partner, and thus, like me needed an emotional circuit breaker. Here's a summary of our itinerary as best I can recall. I’m unsure if we stayed one night or two in Broken Hill, as we dropped one of our scheduled overnight stops on the way there.

DAY	DATE	ITINERARY
1	17 Feb	Blue Mountain, Bathurst, Parkes
2	18 Feb	Nyngan, Cobar, White Cliffs
3	19 Feb	Broken Hill
4	20 Feb	Silverton, Wentworth, Mildura
5	21 Feb	Murray River, Wagga Wagga
6	22 Feb	Canberra
7	23 Feb	Return to Sydney

Our first day on the road started with a morning drive to the Blue Mountains. We stopped to complete three of the area’s classic sights including Wentworth Falls, The Three Sisters and Govetts Leap. We then carried on to Bathurst, completed the mandatory Panoramic Hill circuit (home to the Bathurst 1000 motor race), and made our way to Parkes. Parkes was another bucket list destination. I’d always wanted to visit the 64 m CSIRO Parkes Radio Telescope. Edna and I spent an hour or so exploring the exhibits at its visitor centre before checking into a local motel for the night.

The following morning, we headed north along the ironically named Bogan Way. Nyngan was our next tourist stop. I was keen to visit this remote outpost after watching devastating floods devastate the town in April 1990. A wall of water 14 kilometres wide, spread around the town and surrounding countryside making escape impossible. More than 2,500 locals were eventually evacuated by air using 15 helicopters.

Edna and I toured the local museum inside the town's old railway station. We both learned a great deal about the flood and its soul-destroying aftermath. In a car park outside the natural disaster is dramatically commemorated by a retired RAAF Iroquois helicopter mounted on a two-metre-high pole.

We then continued to Cobar. I’d originally booked a room in the local hotel for the night. However, Edna and I walked into the bar, saw the local crowd and ramshackle décor, and decided to keep driving to White Cliff, our next scheduled overnight stop. However, before we left town we took a detour to the local meteorological station, arriving in time to help the resident meteorologist launch a daily weather balloon. He gave us a superb briefing on the role his remote outpost played in forecasting the state’s weather.

As good tourists do, Enda and I stopped several times, literally in the middle of nowhere, to take some iconic photos of the arrow-straight Barrier Highway disappearing into the horizon. Without a doubt, these were iconic outback road trip photo opportunities for both of us. Even more so considering that Enda comes from Ireland and me from New Zealand, two countries where straight roads are a novelty.

We stopped briefly in Wilcannia to view the Darling River for the first time. Much to our surprise, the river wasn’t flowing. Instead, segregated pools of water filled the river channel. Information panels nearby displayed images of the river in flood with riverboats docked along its banks. It was hard to believe we were looking at the same scene. We finally saw the river flowing freely as it merged with the mighty Murray River in Wentworth several days later.

From here it was on to White Cliffs and our first encounter with life in the Outback.

Our cup runneth over

This week has been unusually busy socially. As warm weather returns, we’ve been out and about more than ever. We’ve enjoyed creating a few happy memories after a rather emotional few months over winter.

 

Our social week started with a wander through the City of Sydney’s annual street party in Surry Hills. Last Sunday, the council closed Crown Street between Cleveland Street and Foveaux Street. People were out in force enjoying street stalls, Brazilian marching bands (complete with Samba dancers), dog training obstacle courses and plenty of quirky street performers.

Garry and I stopped for a glass of French Chablis and hors d'oeuvres at Mille Vini Wine Bar. We sat at a window bench and spent a delightful hour watching the crowd pass. I can honestly say it's the first time I've ever heard a dance party version of Baby Shark and "Shake It All About", delivered courtesy of a live singer performing on a temporary sound stage outside.

On Tuesday we joined friends for a Melbourne Cup Lunch at Clarie’s Kitchen on Oxford Street. Our group booked a table at this venue and enjoyed a three-course meal. We last did this as a group in 2022. Garry won first and second place in an in-house sweepstake, while I won first place in a second sweepstake. Between us, we took home $150. Not a bad return on investment for the day.

After lunch, our group kicked on to the Riley Hotel for a couple of cocktails before moving on to a hidden speakeasy bar in a laneway off Oxford Street. Shady Pines Saloon proved a hidden gem. Most of us had never heard of the place. We ended up seated at a large table dominated by an impressive, mounted Moose head extending overhead.

Last night we enjoyed an early birthday dinner for Garry at the iconic Bennelong in the Opera House. A few months ago, I discovered that Garry had never dined there so I booked us a table. The restaurant surprised and delighted us with a table seated next to a window on its upper level. We enjoyed uninterrupted views of Sydney Harbour and Harbour Bridge. It was a magical evening, and the food was truly divine.

Finally, I enjoyed an EO event on Thursday evening at the Capella Hotel, a boutique establishment just off Bridge Street in the CBD. I continue to be amazed by the venues that EO finds in Sydney. I’ve experienced so many great venues for the first time since joining the organisation almost three years ago.

We have more dining adventures planned in the week ahead including a business lunch at the Fenwick Hotel in Balmain, and a dinner at Neil Perry’s new restaurant, Songbird, in Double Bay. This year’s silly season is shaping up to be busier than ever.