Life’s Illusions, we all see the world differently

Blackall& The Barcoo

Blackall is 300kms north of Charleville and 100kms south of Barcaldine on the Barcoo River. There’s a pleasant donation campground beside the river that provides, toilets, a dump point and water. If you happen to find a pair of white mudflaps their ours. The main street is nearby, and what a charming little town it is. There are avenues of bottle trees and lots of green grass.

When we came through here last, we were travelling south. We met a couple in ‘Barky’ who told us that there was ‘nothing in Blackall’ apart from the historic Wool Scour and that the recent rains would have made the riverside campground far too wet. Not to be put off and intrigued by the tourism brochure for Blackall we pressed on. The campground had dried out sufficiently (the lost mudflaps were our own doing) and we were captivated by Blackall. We were warmly welcomed at the Barcoo Pub and finished the day with dinner under the stars, heartily grateful that we hadn’t taken that well-meant advice. The ditty that inspired us goes like this:

“A popular girl of Blackall

Wore a newspaper dress to a ball

Her rig-out caught fire

And burned her entire, front page,

Sporting section and all.”

You’ll find some interesting artwork dotted about Blackall including a statue of local shearer Jack Howe who holds the record for having sheared 321 sheep in 7 hours and 40 minutes… with hand shears. I’ll bet his back was buggered.

The wool scour tour was an insight into the work that communities must do to keep their towns viable. It was an excellent tour and certainly memorable.

Barcaldine / Barky

Barcaldine is a bit over 100kms north of Blackall. You know it’s funny the things that stand out in your memory when travelling and I have to say that I’ll always remember ‘Shirley Temple’ buying barramundi from the fish van. I thought that she’d lost her marbles buying fish 600kms from the coast. But I was wrong, it was good, really good. Moving on from the Fisho the main attraction in Barky is the Tree of Knowledge.

Spawned by the Great Shearer’s Strike of 1874 Barcaldine is the birthplace of the Australian Labor Party, and the original tree that marked the spot was vandalised, perhaps by a right winger with a chip on their shoulder. What is left is now protected by this soaring multi-faceted timber structure that dominates the main street. Its immense size is a surprise, and it is made up of 3500 sharpened lengths of timber hanging down on wires. As the breeze blows it becomes a giant wind chime.

 The Masonic Lodge around the corner had me captivated though. Built from corrugated iron with a weatherboard front. The boards are cleverly painted in a geometric pattern to resemble bricks. It is so good that you must touch it to see which is the timber edge and which is an illusion. I hope the locals didn’t see this old duck dreamingly patting their lodge.