Saturday 20th June 2015, a cooler 26,
Katherine to Elliott
Homeward bound with the crip.
We get away at 8:30 which is pretty good considering that it’s the first day of a new routine and Woody has to do most of the pink jobs as well as the blue ones. And I keep getting in the way saying “mind my foot”. There’s 3470 kms ahead of us so we’ll just take it as it comes and limit the sightseeing. The camera gets stowed under the bed.
That great Northern Australian pastime of dressing termite mounds with your own clothes is alive and well on the Stuart Highway. Heaven knows what the ants must think when their house temperature goes haywire because someone has put a bikini around the mound. Let alone, pipes, fishing hats and rods, baseball caps, hi vis vests, t shirts and singlets. At least at Mataranka they respectfully have a termite mound museum. The little town is all greenery and the obligatory bougainvillea and tributes to the Gunns of Elsey Station of “We of the Never Never” fame.
Woody hits the brakes at Larrimah not for the Territory’s highest pub (it looks pretty flat here to me), but for Fran’s pie shop. He’s after a coffee scroll, in fact he’s been searching since we left home. Alas Fran doesn’t come up with the goods either.
We can’t go past the iconic Daly Waters Pub for lunch and even though it is three kms off the highway there is a traffic jam of caravans out front and more out back in the yard van park. It’s a classic curiosity pub full of paraphernalia and Dad jokes. Of course, there’s underwear hanging from the rafters too. The folks around here must wander home half naked after a night on the beer having left their clobber either in the pub or draped over an ant mound.
Sated with five bits of Barra and a mountain of chips and weary from telling everyone how I got the plaster, it’s on to Elliott on the Barkly Tableland. There’s not a lot happening in Elliott apart from a cattle yard and a tick dip. The Elliott Caravan Park is a red dirt yard behind the servo. But on some sites there is power, water, amenities, a usable pool (not much use to me, I’m having enough trouble mastering the shower on one leg) and sixteen peacocks. Doesn’t every traveller want sixteen peacocks? They are fun to watch though.
Travelling Kms: 427Kms
Note: I would not recommend the caravan park at Elliott, even though the peacocks were entertaining. Glossary: Barra is Barramundi, a seriously good eating, tropical fish.