Aussie Road Trip Day seven, Sunday 21st July 2013

The long road to Broken Hill .....

We left Swan Hill after a late start. Our Motel offered a free cooked breakfast, and we thought we might need a full tum to begin our long drive to Broken Hill.

The first part of the drive was backtracking from Swan Hill to Tooleybuc, but running true to form our GPS chose to direct us on another route entirely to the one on which we came in. It did take us through some very nice farming country. There were lots of vineyards and orchards of fruit trees and the whole area looked quite well cultivated. I guess its proximity to the Murray River and to irrigation helped. We stopped briefly for a decent cup of coffee at Robinvale. The rather lumpen and slow lady who served us went into a dither with the onslaught of customers. There must've been a dozen people in the cafe at least! Rush hour for Robinvale on a Sunday.

We drove on towards Mildura along the Sturt Highway. As we got further from the Murray and Murrumbidgee Rivers the landscape changed to mallee scrub and was less inhabited. Getting closer to Mildura it changed back again to vineyards and orchards. The plan was to stop in Mildura for lunch .... but as usual, our plans are flexible. We attempted to find somewhere to eat and even got out of the car and walked for a while in what we thought was the CBD, but could find nowhere open to dine. (John: she exagerrates! Barb didn't want to go exploring - the Pioneer Village spirit from yesterday clearly hadn't rubbed off).

We drove on and stopped in the small town of Merbein only about 20 kilometres further on. This was more like it! When we arrived there was a Sunday market in full swing in the main street. We settled on a small cafe called the Pomegranate Seeds.

John outside the delightful cafe



The three ladies behind the counter provided some comedic entertainment as we attempted to order lunch. There wasn't a lot on the menu and I ordered quiche and salad (which the women wrote down in brief as "C & Salad" What? Is that quiche spelt with a C? John ordered chicken parmagiana and chips, and enquired if there was orange juice. This was after all right in the heart of orange country. "Nah ... you'll have to go down and get some from the IGA if you want that." When John demurred, they were unsympathetic "Do ya want me to get my violin?" (John: it was tongue in cheek on their part. I think!).

We were pretty amused by this uninhibited lack of customer service. When my meal arrived it was nice and fresh, however John was left sitting watching me consume my food while he waited and waited for his. Just when he thought of going to enquire (cue the violins!) .... a call was heard from the kitchen "S**t .... I forgot the chicken parmi!"

It did eventually arrive, but it was not exactly gourmet fare, and we don't think any of the three ladies knew how to operate the coffee machine, judging by the weak and lacklustre (Barb is too polite - it was positively insipid) offering we were served, but it was all good fun.

When we emerged from the cafe we were surprised to see that the markets had packed up and gone home in the time we were dining, forestalling a look around them. We did wander down to the local IGA and picked up some of the locally produced orange juice (as recommended by the ladies at the Pomegranate) to sample later at our leisure.

John buying his orange juice

Not much further along the road was the pretty town of Wentworth, situated on the border between NSW and Victoria and at the confluence of the Murray and Darling Rivers. As we approached the bridge, flashing signs warned us to expect delays of up to six hours (you heard me .... six HOURS) as there was bridgework maintenance going on. It was Sunday so no maintenance work today. Phew.

The next leg of the journey was a 264 kilometre stretch of road unbroken by human habitation except for a servo at Coombah about halfway between Wentworth and Broken Hill.

We saw a whole lot of spinifex plains and a few herds of emus and goats, but not much else, including traffic in either direction. Since there was no fencing along the roadside for much of the time it was necessary to look out for wildlife and straying livestock.

Filling up at the Coombah servo

Coombah? We stopped there for coffee and petrol. When we commented to the lady about the isolation of her position and the lack of anything to look at on the drive, she seemed genuinely puzzled. "We're only 140 k from Broken Hill" said she. A mere doddle by local standards. And there's LOTS to look at!

We continued on our way and got quite excited to spot some power lines and a radiotelegraph tower, and finally about 40 K from Broken Hill, some distant hills. Sooo much to see!

Anyway we're here in Broken Hill. For three nights. I think we're in for a treat.

Our home for the next three nights in Broken Hill.