Wilcannia



Sunday

Today was more dirt road on the trip along the Darling to Wilcannia. We had one stop at the Tilpa pub, enjoying a cold beverage to wash away the dust. We saw how things work out this way when an old guy pulled in in his Ute, staggered around to sit on the tailgate and publican brought out his mail etc. As he drove away we noticed a total lack of registration plates!


I had discovered another set of podcasts on my phone..The Birders Guide...so we listened to a couple of episodes to pass the time.
As we drove in to Wilcannia I could here the strains of Spaghetti Western music playing in my head. The town has some lovely old sandstone buildings ...and not much else. 



We had decided, a bit like our last trip, that to visit Broken Hill and Menindee in a rushed way was not what we wanted to do, so they will be on another trip. 
Warrawong on the Darling had been recommended by another traveller and it turned out to be a pleasant site but there was trouble ahead. The dirt roads had filled up the clips where the awning sits as well affecting the slidability of one of the arms. Long story short, Michael ended up with 3 fingers jammed in between awning parts, calling for help. Chap next to us came to try to ease the pressure while I flicked the clip and managed to release the awning. Outcome was 3 deep depressions across the swollen fingers and a white-faced Michael but fortunately no broken skin or bones.
Luckily the campsite was situated overlooking a lovely billabong and we did get a spectacular sunset. The bird is a Brown Treecreeper.

Monday
Our Wilcannia stopover didn’t really get any better. The van park didn’t have a dump point so, no problem, there was one in town and we also needed to get air in the tires. Michael had taken advice on travelling on dirt roads and reduced the air pressures to 35psi  but we were back to tarred roads now so we needed to reinflate them. Dropped in to the only servo in town...’no air here mate’. Luckily Michael has a small pump which plugs in to the cigarette lighter but it is a slow process. Of course the cable wasn’t long enough to reach the van so we had to unhitch and manoeuvre the car around each side. Needless to say I don’t think he’ll bother to do that again.
It was a long drive across the plains to Cobar with just a lunch break at Meadow Glen rest stop. Within a minute of stopping we had both Apostlebirds and Spotted Bowerbirds looking for food scraps. The Bowerbird was so bold he was on the table and tried to steal the red cover from our knife.
It was around here that the landscape changed and although we only passed through, Cobar looked like a place worth returning to. We were very happy to settle by the river in Nyngan for the night.

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