We were up with the sparrows and away by 8am with no firm plan other than make it to Broken Hill over the next couple of days. We left the town of a 1 000 dogs, luckily the van park was far enough away for them to not worry us too much. One group of people have barking dogs because they always do and the others have barking dogs to warn them when the other group is up to no good. It all adds up to a very noisy walk/ride, and a nightmare for those few who don't have dogs.
Got to Cobar, alright nothing to see here move right along, apart from coffee and buns at the bakery. Got to Wilcannia, alright nothing to see here move right along, apart from a nice salad lunch out of the van. We noted that the fruit fly border was before Broken Hill, so we decided to try and eat our own body weights in fresh fruit and vege. It was not until we got to BH that we discovered our map may be a tad old and the quarantine check point is somewhere else!
We were kept entertained by the passing parade of feral goats, 100s (maybe even 1 000s) of them of every conceivable size and colour. We do hope someone is going to harvest them one day soon or they'll devour the whole landscape. The recent rain, which has greened everything out here will cause a population explosion of the darn things. At 5pm we pulled into the Racecourse Caravan Park at Broken Hill, home for three nights, at least. This fairly basic park is quiet, a little out of town and just right. We have a non-powered site just to test out the solar and battery backup.
Time for a small tipple, some dinner and relaxation before bed.
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