Broken Hill and back

Here's the last of three posts I've published about a Kodak-era road trip into the Australian outback. This post covers my time in Broken Hill, a place I'd dreamed of visiting as a child. My friend Enda and I spent two days exploring this iconic outback town in 2003.

After stopping for the night in White Cliff, it was on to Broken Hill. Along the way, we stopped to adjust our watches to Central Time, 30 minutes behind the rest of the state. Naturally, I couldn’t resist a classic tourist photo while passing into the new time zone.

Broken Hill was every bit as rugged and special as the mesmerising 35mm documentary film that inspired me as a child. As all good tourists do, we stayed at the Palace Hotel and booked ourselves into the hotel’s world-renowned Priscilla Suite. This unorthodoxly decorated room was made famous by the 1994 hit movie, The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

 

The room’s walls and ceiling are covered in murals depicting classic Australian landscapes of streams, red dirt and gum trees. The halls and stairway leading up to the room are covered in more of these extraordinary hand-painted murals. An Indigenous artist from Port Augusta by the name of Gordon Waye painted much of what you see over several years.

However, despite its exotic decor, the room was fitted out in what could only be described as classic country pub sheek. In one corner sat a tiny TV on a varnished wooden shelf, floral duvets adored the bed, the floorboards creaked with every step, and an odd freestanding wash basin was installed midway along the wall. Thanks to a double-height ceiling, and a pair of balcony doors, the room did feel abnormally generous for pub accommodation.

We ate dinner in the bistro downstairs, then retired to our room. We sat outside for a while on the pub’s classic wraparound balcony, soaking in the outback air. However, the temperature dropped quickly after dark from the mid-20s to about 18C so we soon called it a night. Bizarrely, we visited Broken Hill during a brief cool period. Daytime temperatures hovered around the mid to high twenties while we were there rather than the normal mid to high thirties earlier in the week.

While in Broken Hill we took time out to visit the Line of Lode Miners Memorial built on a ridge of mine tailings towering over the town. Mining has claimed more than 800 lives over the years at Broken Hill, and the dramatic arching memorial is a poignant monument to them all. After viewing it you can sit on the Big Bench nearby and reflect on the lives lost. This colossal red seat is two and a half times the size of a regular bench.

We also took a mine tour which saw us don hard hats, enter an open cage and descend into the depths of an abandoned mine. We were told that it continues to be maintained in working condition for the benefit of tourists. The tour gave us an excellent insight into the lives of miners and the risks they manage every day. We learned that the Line of Lode is one of the world’s largest bodies of ore, containing silver, lead and zinc which made fortunes in this remote outback city.

The following day we toured the Flying Doctors base and visited the town’s quirky monument to the lives of bandsmen lost in the sinking of the Titanic. Even though none of the bandsmen were Australian, their memorial in Stuart Park was completed less than two years after the disaster, in December 1912. It was a poignant reminder that tragic events impact every generation, each with its own 9/11 moment.

We then ventured out to the ghost town of Silverton. Once a booming silver mining town, its abandoned buildings and their restored facades are now renowned for starring in iconic Aussie films like Mad Max 2 and The Adventures of Priscilla. Most of the town's buildings are long gone. However, a handful of lovingly restored structures dot an otherwise barren, gently sloping plateau. It's one of the oddest places I've ever visited in Australia.

Saint Carthage’s Church, the town’s small stone-walled Catholic chapel, was especially memorable. It sat on the edge of a desolate hillside surrounded by dusty red dirt. For me, it encapsulated the look and feel of a classic Hollywood ghost town. I think Enda and I saw it at its best, defiantly standing amid nothingness. These days the building is enclosed by a neatly fenced desert garden filled with trees and flowering desert plants. 

After visiting Silverton, we drove to the nearby Mundi Mundi Lookout. Although back then it was called the Edge of the World, for good reason, as it sits on the rim of the Barrier Ranges. Beyond the hills the road winds down to a plateau that stretches to the horizon in an unbroken plain of barren red dirt. You really do feel like you’re standing at the edge of the world with eternity unfolding before you. I’ve since requested that a portion of my ashes be scattered here when I die.

From Broken Hill, it was onward to the Murray River. We drove into Wentworth and made our way to the confluence of the Darling and Murry Rivers in time to witness a spectacular sunset. Even now, decades later, I still consider the photo we took as one of my all-time favourites. We then stopped for the night in Mildura. 

The following morning, we booked ourselves a river cruise on the Paddle Steamer (PS) Melbourne. This vessel started life in Koondrook on the River Murray in 1912. Built for the Victorian Government as a work boat, the Melbourne was once fitted with a huge winch that was used for hauling fallen trees and snags from the river. This kept the main channel open throughout the year for other boats. 

The PS Melbourne was restored and converted for the tourist trade in 1996. Today it’s licensed to carry 300 passengers. Incredibly, as a flat-bottom boat, it can safely navigate in water only four feet deep. However, our tour spent a relaxing two hours in much deeper channels sailing down through Mildura's Lock 11 and back. Along the way, we passed Melbourne’s sister ship, the Rothbury MV. 

Afterwards, we drove out of town to the local Yabbi farm where an enthusiastic farmhand gave a private tour. It was fascinating to learn how these freshwater crayfish are cultivated. They take two years to reach a commercial size of at least 10-15cm. The secret to optimal growth is to keep the water at a constant temperature between 23C and 25C year-round. Sadly, the farm at Gol Gol has long since disappeared.  I looked for it to no avail when Garry and I returned to Mildura in 2021.

From Mildura we drove directly to Wagga Wagga, stopping briefly in Hay and Narrandera to stretch our legs. This was easily our longest scheduled drive, taking more than six hours and covering more than 550km. However, Wagga was little more than an overnight pitstop on our way to Canberra.

The next morning we carried on to the ACT, stopping briefly in Gundagai to check out the famous Dog on a Tucker Box statue. This was my second visit to Gundagai. I'd first stopped here while driving to Portland, Victoria for an Easter weekend break in 1990. More about that adventure some other time.

Canberra was our final overnight stop. Enda and I did the usual tourist thing, visiting Parliament and venturing up Mount Ainslie to marvel at the city’s carefully planned layout. We then drove back to Sydney via Goulburn and its iconic Big Merino. In six days we’d driven more than 2,700km and ticked off some of New South Wales’s most iconic outback experiences.

I’ve never been back to Broken Hill. However, I am keen to return and drive north to Tibooburra. This remote town near the Queensland border has always captured my imagination. It regularly reports the state’s hottest daily temperatures. Hence, I’m dying to see what's out there. Tibooburra is also close to Camerons Corner, a roadhouse that sits on the tripartite border point for South Australia, Queensland and New South Wales. Watch this space!

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 neared the horizon. What a sunset! On the edge of town, we climbed a low tailings ridge and stood in awe of the jumbled, iridescent landscape unfolding before us. The image below simply doesn’t do it justice. 

Many White Cliff locals live underground in “dugouts” year-round. It’s the coolest place in the Outback where outdoor temperatures can soar above 40 C for weeks on end. Underground the temperature remains a comfortable 22 C all year round. 

I was keen to experience life underground, so I booked us into PJ's Bed and Breakfast, an underground establishment with five guest rooms. The photo below was ripped from the web as I never took any of my own. Even its address was a novelty: Dugout 72, White Cliffs NSW 2836. This was the first time I’d slept in an underground home, a feat that wasn’t repeated until Garry and I spent two nights underground in Cooper Pedy in 2019. 

Like many homes in this opal mining town, our accommodation was built into the hillside alongside a miner’s active claim. Opal miner Peter Pedler (the P in PJ's) runs the place with his wife, Joanne. Although, much to their surprise, Edna and I rocked up a day ahead of schedule. Hours earlier we’d walked into a dodgy hotel I’d booked in Cobar, thought better of it and kept driving. As luck would have it, our unsuspecting B&B hosts, who’d been on vacation, arrived home minutes before us. 

Edna and I shamelessly played dumb and insisted we’d booked the correct date. Our hosts graciously agreed to accommodate us a day ahead of schedule. They also apologized for only offering a simple pasta meal as they hadn’t restocked their pantry.

After dinner, Peter took us on a tour of the narrow winding shafts in his home’s private opal mine under Turley’s Hill. He showed us a promising seam and let us touch a few of his more recent finds, including several opals that had been polished to perfection.

I’d wanted to visit White Cliff after watching contestants from the TV reality show, The Amazing Race, play golf on its barren nine-hole course. Edna and I simply had to give it a go so our B&B hosts tracked down the local “greenskeeper” the following morning. We hired a set of clubs and balls and set about playing 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 was the ultimate outback experience. No grass at all, narrow fairways, lots of saltbush, plenty of out-of-bound zones and a few unique desert hazards including gravel, dry creek beds and burrow holes. To protect your club from damage, you’re given a small mat of artificial turf to 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 little more than fine rolled 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 for driving electromagnetic turbines. 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 solar power was still in its infancy four decades ago. 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.

NOTE: 17 November 2024

This evening, I discovered that the golf course I’d seen on The Amazing Race was filmed in Cooper Pedy. I can’t believe it. I’ve been wrong about the White Cliffs course for over twenty years. How lucky were we that this red dirt town inadvertently offered an identical golfing experience!

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 35mm 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 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 education.

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. Following my recent appointment as Asia Pacific (APAC) Regional Director for Text 100, I'd been working insanely long hours and travelling continually for more than nine months. 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 booked myself a road trip to Broken Hill, and on to Mildura, 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, White Cliffs and the Murray River. 

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 at three of the area’s classic sights including Wentworth Falls, The Three Sisters and Govetts Leap, then carried on to Bathurst. We completed the mandatory Panoramic Hill circuit (home to the Bathurst 1000 motor race) before finishing the day in Parkes. Here we visited the 64 m CSIRO Parkes Radio Telescope. Enda and I explored exhibits at its visitor centre before finally checking into a local motel for the night. 

The following morning, we headed north towards Nyngan. I was keen to visit this remote town after watching record floods devastate it 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 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, looked at the locals and the ramshackle décor, and decided to head for White Cliffs, our next overnight stop. However, before leaving 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 his remote outpost's role in forecasting the state’s weather. Sadly, the station was automated in 2016, and the 3:15pm balloon launch we enjoyed is no more. On the way out of town, we stopped briefly at the Fort Bourke Hill Lookout to check out the recently reopened Open Cut Gold Mine. It's hard to believe the soaring price of gold has made these old mines commercially viable again.

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

Wilcannia was our next tourist highlight. We stopped to look at its old trestle bridge and catch our first glimpse of the Darling River. 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 boats docked along its banks. It was hard to believe we were viewing the same scene. However, we finally saw Darling 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.

The Great Buddha of Kamakura

Time for another retrospective post from the Kodak era. This time we’re off to Kamakura, a historic coastal city on the Miura peninsula south of Tokyo. The city is renowned for Kamakura Daibutsu, otherwise known as The Great Buddha of Kamakura, at Kotoku-in temple.

Kamakura is one of Japan's ancient capitals, alongside Kyoto and Nara. It served as the seat of the Kamakura shogunate for almost 150 years from 1185 to 1333. This was also Japan’s first military government. As a result, the city is filled with many ancient and note-worthy temples and shrines.

Kamakura Daibutsu is a large bronze statue of a seated Buddha. It sits on a low-profile stone podium. Including the base, it measures 13.35 metres high and weighs about 93 tonnes. According to temple records, the statue dates from around 1252 and thus was cast at the height of the Kamakura shogunate.

It was created to replace an earlier giant wooden statue destroyed by a storm in 1248. The bronze replacement was originally enclosed in a temple hall. However, this building was swept away by a tsunami in 1498. Since then, the Great Buddha has stood in the open air.

I visited Kamakura and spent the day exploring its many hillside temples and shrines during a business trip to Japan. My company’s Tokyo office was a bit of a problem child at the time. As a result, I made many trips to Japan to support the team, usually staying at the Keio Plaza Hotel in Shinjuku.

My first business trip to Tokyo was a three-week secondment in August 2001. At the time, I was the Managing Director of our Australian office and was asked to spend time in the office training the executive team on improving their business management skills.

Following this trip, I returned regularly between 2002 and 2005 after becoming Regional Director for Asia Pacific. At the time, we'd lost our local managing director and had an expat in place acting in a temporary capacity. The situation's complexity meant that I stayed often for several weeks and thus regularly found myself with a weekend to fill.

To be brutally honest, I’m not sure exactly when I visited Kamakura. I never dated the photos I took. At a guess, it was sometime in 2002. It takes about 90 minutes to reach the city by train from Shinjuku. Most visitors disembark at Hase Station, then make their way uphill to the Kamakura Daibutsu tracing a popular tourist route past several Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines.

However, I decided to get off the train at Kita Kamakura station. From here I walked down the tree-lined streets of old Kamajura toward Hase Station. Along the way, I passed numerous immaculate shrines, including Engakuji, one of Japan's leading Zen temples, before finally finishing up at Great Buddha. Thanks to regular tourist stops, it took me several hours to complete the walk.  You can see a photo above of the wonderful Zen garden at Engakuji.  It was undergoing a little maintenance the day I visited.

Kenchoji, Kamakura’s oldest Zen temple, was also memorable. I was captivated by the defensive demon statues guarding the steps leading up to Hansōbō, the temple's large Shinto shrine. Known as Tengu, these mythical creatures are similar to goblins. Some of the statues had wings and a beak, a tengu genre known as Karasu-tengu (crow tengu) because of their avarian appearance.

The Great Buddha of Kamakura an impressive sight. As it comes into view beyond the ticket gate its size and scale is immediately clear. You instantly appreciate why it’s designated as a national treasure of Japan and is considered one of the nation’s most famous icons. Where else can you gaze upon a pair of one-metre wide eyes resting in eternal contemplation?

Farewell Rhonda

On Monday we farewelled Rhonda, Garry's mother, with a wonderful service. It was held in the Garden Chapel at Castlebrook Memorial Park Rouse Hill. It rained like crazy the night before.  However, as the service began the weather lifted and we enjoyed dry conditions.

Attendance exceeded everyone's expectations. The chapel seats 120 people. We'd anticipated that maybe 100 people would attend. In the end, almost 200 showed up (or at least that's our best guess as more than 173 people signed the condolence book - excluding immediate family members such as Garry and I, his brother and sister and their families, plus boyfriends and girlfriends and a few school friends).

Murray asked me to lead the service. To help me prepare my opening and closing remarks I leveraged notes from both my parent's funerals. I also took advantage of a rainy day in Samoa and spent the time drafting everything. I'm relieved the service was received well. It proved a superb blend of formality and informality with plenty of laughter and tears. Garry's brother, David, delivered a eulogy filled with anecdotes, capturing Rhonda's character perfectly. 

Murray was delighted by everything. I also received plenty of accolades for my role. The service was streamed online. As a result, I could replay a recording and experience it from the audience’s perspective. I must admit that the service flowed seamlessly and was a truly fitting tribute to an exceptional woman.

Afterwards, everyone retired to The Fiddler Hotel for an informal reception. Once again the numbers exceeded expectations. However, the hotel did a superb job of accommodating extra tables and additional catering at short notice.  The family then spent the rest of the afternoon reminiscing in the sunshine at a large table in the hotel's garden bar.

Savai’i (kind of)

Today’s day trip to Savai’i, Samoa’s largest island, didn’t go exactly as planned. Our guide, Chief Tai (yes he really is a local chief), picked us up from our resort at 6:40am. The early start was required in order to catch an 8:00am ferry across Apolima Strait to Savai’i. The weather forecast wasn’t ideal with passing showers forecast. However, our guide thought we’d be ok.

As we arrived at Mulifanua wharf the rain started falling. To our dismay, we discovered that the ferry company had rostered one of its landing craft vessels onto our scheduled sailing. This smaller vessel, the MV SSC Fasefulu, is an open deck ship with limited indoor seating. In other words, while crossing the 20km of ocean separating Upolu and Savai’i, we’d be exposed to the elements.

However, to our surprise, Chief Tai arranged for us to join the crew on the bridge. As a result, we stayed sheltered from the weather and enjoyed a bird’s eye view of cars and trucks being loaded on board. Below is an image of the ferry I later took during our return sailing. 

Once on Savai’i we made our way along the southern coast towards the island’s iconic Alofaaga Blowholes. However, as we ventured west the weather deteriorated rapidly into heavy showers. Our guide became increasingly agitated. He explained that the road is often blocked by localised flooding after heavy rain.

Apparently, heavy rain on the slopes of Mt Silisili, the island’s highest peak, can quickly overwhelm streams along the entire coast. At first, I thought he was exaggerating. That is until we encountered a fast-flowing dirty brown torrent surging knee-deep across the highway, less than a kilometre from the blowhole turnoff.

Needless to say, our guide promptly abandoned the tour and returned to Salelologa. As we drove he expressed fears that other streams were now flooding. Fortunately, his fears proved unfounded and we made it safely back to the ferry wharf. However, we passed over several bridges with wild waters raging below so his distress wasn’t entirely misplaced. 

As we approached Salelologa we stopped to admire Mu Pagoa Waterfall in full flood. The fall is an impressive sight. It flows over an arcing five-metre ledge of black volcanic rock directly into the pounding Pacific ocean. 

Access to the waterfall is across private land (we literally walked through a grassy paddock to get there). As a result, it’s not signposted from the road. We later learnt that thanks to this hidden access very few tourists actually see the falls. Even fewer witness it in full flood.

Our guide decided to return on an earlier sailing as poor weather often causes cancellations. As a result, we found ourselves disembarking in Upolu, hours ahead of schedule. Ironically, the weather on Upolu was only partially overcast, dry and warm. 

Our guide offered to refund the tour. While we appreciated the gesture, we declined his offer. Instead, to compensate us, he shouted lunch at a local resort and took us on a leisurely drive along the southwest coast. The church shown above, located in Falelatai, was one highlight along the way. Sadly my photos didn’t turn out so I’ve ripped this image from Google Street View.