Here We Go Again - Chapter 56 - Mataranka Day 4

This park is in a bit of disrepair. It looks tired and the influx of those who may have travelled overseas, but because of Covid are travelling Oz is very apparent. The power is less than stable making using the airconditioning a lottery. The fluctuations trip the circuit breaker often, so you do not know if there is a black out or the breaker has kicked in, unless you check.

The ritual of filling the water tanks starts the day. Our neighbours are doing the same thing it seems. The air pocket that develops in one of our main tanks does not occur such is the pressure from the hose. It takes quite some time, standing in the sun to fill the tanks, that should be full, had the pressure from the mains been sufficient to cope with demand.

Pea hens wander through the van sites. They are in full voice this morning. They are up, why shouldn’t everyone else, and by the way where is my next feed.

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The larder is a bit the worse for wear so a shopping trip into Mataranka is called for. The demand in the park has carried over into the local shops. There is little choice and what there is, is very expensive. It must be difficult for locals on a fixed income. For us it means we might suffer the queues at the “chow line” for the remaining nights we are here. The things we have to do!

There are markets here today. Don’t blink or you will miss them. Having said that there are the obligatory coffee and treat carts and we extract a cup of tea and a muffin from one. There is no disappointment with the wares, a beautiful chocolate chip muffin becomes morning tea for me. Robyn is also suitable impressed with her selection. The dozen or so stalls are quickly reviewed and the crowds are flocking in. There are benning to be a plethora of vans and vehicles parked in the adjacent park, many more than the stalls we ever have to be able to cope with.

We leave the ever thronging and growing crowd for the safety of the tree where internet had been at its “best”. Here I find no joy. Robyn gets enough band width for her machine but mine is useless.

To calm my frustrations we drive around Mataranka – just for a look. Might be worth showing Robyn the river walk from where we fished yesterday. Its not a long drive and if the truth be known, its on the way back to the camp.

She is a little apprehensive about the walk given the reptile scared from the bank yesterday but I assure her the “track” is well back from the river bank. She then reminds me of the mad cow. Again assurances it will have moved on (or been eaten).

Its hot now and the walk takes it out of us. The loop part from yesterday is all we manage before we decide to return to the Cruiser. It does take in the rapids, which is the part I really wanted to show her, and where we ran into some fishermen plying their trade much like us yesterday but with less luck. The lady was the experienced one. She was instructing the male and both were having a great time but with no bites of significance to report.

Unlike our retrieval method of speed with flicks to enhance the bait, they are of a mood to simply let the same type of lure slowly dangle its way in front of a fish’s nose. An explosion of water close to the rapids gets everyone’s attention. Lures are propelled in that direction but to no avail. 

Back at the Cruiser its hydration time, thankfully the Engel is full.

The muffin at morning tea has done for intake this morning and after our walk in the hot sun, its all we can do to have an afternoon nap, not worrying about lunch.

Happy hour will be starting soon so we congregate and head down to the beer garden to get a good spot for dinner and the show.

We have found a spot in the shade for now, close to the fire pit. Why they need a fire in this heat is beyond me, but they do and it is well attended to by one of the musicians. Must be an ambience thing.

Dinner and a few libations under the belt, the band kicks into gear. They are the Repeat Offenders and they are the entree to the main course which is a whip cracking champion. They are a well travelled bunch, much better known overseas than in Australia.Their number is bolstered tonight by the ex lead guitarist from Australian Crawl as another of their number has to head home shortly.

The band plays well to the audience. At one point the Aussie Crawl guitarist launches into what Jack Black in School of Rock (2003 Paramount) may have suggested was  a face melting solo. It certainly had the crowd going and he certainly seemed to be lost in the music. I recorded the solo and sent it to my musician son who mused something about “what was he playing” as he seemed to have no idea as to the song the band was trying to play. Live, it was good entertainment. Not so recorded, much like the enormity of the vistas we see every day being compressed into photographs – it simply does not do it justice.

Like I said we were perched next to the fire with what we thought was an uninterrupted view of the stage. It was until a particularly tall gent, ensuing his kids, dancing in front of the stage were safe, decided to perch himself right in our eyeline. Oblivious to his apparent annoyance to us, it takes a tap on the shoulder and a request to sit to get our view back. He is very apologetic, otherwise I might have had to drag out the joke about his father being a glass maker – NOT.

At one of the intermissions we get talking to the leaving guitarist, who happens to be the stoker of the fire. We know from the lead singer, he is heading home. As we get talking to him we find “home” is near Mackay in Queensland and the reason has to do with the manager of the hotel he owns having walked out.

He doesn’t want to go. Music is his life and this band, the nourishment. Given the band’s talk about veterans etc I talk to him about my cousin Darryl and he suggests I let him know he is returning and they should catch up. It will be a good meeting for both. The guitarist exposed to more veteran mates of Darryl and my cousin newly into retirement with another source of new contacts.

We have seen the whip cracker before and yes he is very, very good. But once is enough and tomorrow there will be large numbers of would be crackers, trying out new whips in the park. We now when the whip crackers are the entertainment close by as the noise from the would be’s follows them into the next and the next camp.

As we leave our excellent vantage points are swamped by those eager to continue with the entertainment to come, but for us now bed calls.

Our last night here. Tomorrow we are off to another “special” place from the last trip. Mataranka and its pools are one thing – and in some way we should not have come back in what we knew were going to be challenging times, but the next few days ion Cooinda are going to be special – for all sorts of reasons.