Around Oz the First Time - Chapter 99 - Condobolin to Home

Our final day on tour.

If it were the Man from Snowy River the line would be “and they halted cowed and beaten, and he turned their heads for home”, and there was quite a bit of trepidation in the hook up for the 675 kilometre last leg to home, but “cowed and beaten” are the furthest from the mind.

18,294 kilometres of bewilderment at what this country has too offer. Our only regret, and we will fix that in future trips, was the relentless adherence to a timeframe, which as soon as we lost two weeks to break downs, was in turmoil, looking for places to scan over rather than explore. It wasn’t until Exmouth and the weekend of the rugby league grand final, we understood what could and should be done “on tour”.

We had spent a time driving to a point then exploring every road from our main track back to our starting point. It took most of the afternoon, and we almost got bogged, and we saw turtle tracks, and we were never rushed. Yes, there were times we simply drove down the road, turned around and went back, but we looked and saw with every differing road, a magnificence in their own right.

Memories, the big takeaway from every holiday, was the discussion on the way home. After saying our goodbyes to Aunt Kerre and Uncle Lionel, in the early morning sunshine at Condobolin, we turned the van into the sun and started the long trek home. Skirting the town, out onto the Parkes Road and then “cutting the corner” across via Fifield and Tullamore, where Jimmy Barnes had performed on the weekend in the wind and the rain, to Dubbo.

We filled up in Dubbo and headed towards Dunedoo, a town where we have found a very pleasant place to stop for lunch or a break, the White Rose Café. They do melts here, great for the quick snack, and even more important, make proper ice chocolates, not the pretend ones we have had at some places with ice cubes in milk, but chocolate lined milkshake glasses, with ice cream , chocolate milk and topped with whipped cream. A meal in itself.

Just out of Dunedoo there is a place where a tree appears to have split a large rock in two. The power of mother nature. It reminds me of a poem by Frank L Lucas we discussed in high school, titled Beleaguered Cities, in which there are lines “But mark yon small green blade, your stones between, The single spy, Of that uncounted host you have outcast; For with their tiny pennons waving green, They shall storm your streets at last” casting Mother Nature as a never beaten enemy. This tree apparently splitting these enormous pieces of blue granite, was once a small shoot, but over time has overcome even the hardest of rocks, let alone anything man could attempt to impede it with.

Robyn takes a turn at the wheel, and I drift off to sleep, awoken by the sudden lurching of the van. We have come to a steep decline in the road and she has applied the brakes and the van has countered with its disagreement. I put the Cruiser into manual mode and second gear, to allow her to use the brakes less and all is well. At the bottom of the hill I throw it back into automatic mode and all is fine. There is another hill not long after and she asks before we start down to “do it again”, and this time there is no lurching as she has much better control.

We skirt around Newcastle and we change drivers again for the short stint home. One more stop though. The independent fuel outlet just before the Lakes Way always has cheaper fuel than anyone else in the area. We stop to fuel up, thirty-four kilometres from home, paying $1.42 per litre, grab an ice cream, and turn the Cruiser into the hills.

Turning into our home street, I remember we have never actually attempted to back the van into our new driveway or shed. The driveway is not straight, the next-door neighbour has parked a trench digger, right up against our driveway and the neighbour across the road is home and his van and trailer are also on the road. He comes out as I throw on the hazard lights, pull across the centre of the road, and start the reversing. He is ready to move his obstructions if I need, but surprisingly getting off the road is easy.

The lining it up down the driveway is a different matter. There is a kink in the drive about halfway down and I need to negotiate this to line up the van properly to get it into the shed. I also need to be mindful of ensuring my side of the van is as close to the wall as possible, although there is a large girder protruding out about halfway into the shed, so we can get in and out of the van to unload and clean – tomorrow. Tonight, all we will need are the C-pap machine and some food.

Success, almost the first time, and without destroying any of the new plants, having just been planted.

So we are home, almost three months to the day since we left. We catch up with our neighbours, who have been looking after our mail and keeping a watch on the place. We share a bottle of wine with them, then we head next door to the lady who has been reconstructing our garden, and here we consume significantly more alcohol. This time in the form of vodka and juice. 

We discuss the great work she has done and the need to get together shortly to discuss maintenance and ongoing holidays etc. The grass apparently has not been mown for some time and we will be letting our current mower man go when next we see him.

It will be funny, sleeping in our own bed again, and not having to struggle over the end of the bed to get out of it for the toilet or simply to get up. It seems strange, not to be heading back to the van tonight, but all good things must come to an end. This particular holiday has finished, and we have already started to plan the next one. Having said that, we saw so many places, fleetingly this time, we want to return to and really explore. It will be difficult to decide on which ones. Kakadu and the Kimberley’s will eb way up there, but there are also lots of country between here and the north west of Australia we didn’t get to this time.

One thing we do know is that the next trip will have no timetable. We have learned a lot from Silver Leader, Forbsy and Rosalie, not to mention the Missing Link, who was always available for a phone call if we needed it. We feel we are ready to tackle the great unknown as fully fledged Grey Nomads, having done our apprenticeship as Silver Schoolies in 2019.