After spending a lovely week with my family over Christmas, it was time to move one.
We had to get back home, but via what route was the question. With just over a week to get home, we could take our time, and take in some of the countryside.
We had the swag, with its brand new 1,000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, so I was looking forward to camping under the stars.
Being the summer school holidays, possibly the only route from Adelaide to Sydney that wouldn’t be crowded was via Broken Hill. However, we’re coming in that way on our next trip, so I thought something different would be better.
The Great Ocean Road was out. After the Christmas bushfires the communities there would probably prefer to have some time to themselves without tourists gawping.
We considered the Grampians, but thought that might be too crowded to really enjoy a national park.
Problem is, anywhere in Victoria isn’t far from Melbourne so would most likely be crowded in summer holidays.
Finally, we decided on a trip along the Murray River. Staying away from main highways, and following the river as closely as possible.
Have you ever tried to drive along a river? The roads really are designed to get from town to town as quickly as possible. In a straight line.
The Murray River is “the Riverland”, where they grow a lot of Australia’s fruit. Parts of it are also known as “Sunraysia”, where they get 300 days of sunshine a year. Sadly it seems we are travelling on some of the other 65 days. Three nights out, and we’ve spent two of them in cabins because of rain.
So far, the roads we’ve travelled on have looped back and forth from the river to the countryside. We’ve rarely been more than 8km or so from the river, but that’s far enough away to not see it, and make it seem is if you could be anywhere.
We’ve driven through very open country: really a land of sweeping plains where you can where see the river covers it in full flood. It’s not as flat as the Nullabor or outback Queensland, but scrubby, with undulating small hills. Where trees have drowned during flood times.
But there are still gum trees. Lots of Murray River gum trees along the banks of the river.
We also driven past vineyards, orange orchards, vineyards, apple orchards, vineyards. Alleviated by the occasional almond or olive orchard. Lucky I like looking at vineyards, but I was slightly shocked to learn that not all grapes grow up to be wine. What do they do with them then?
Of course, the best parts of the drive are when the road is close to the river.
The pattern seems to go like this: Drive along the road away from the river, then round a curve and suddenly come up to an “oh, wow” moment as the river, lagoons, and surrounding flood plains came back into view.
And there would be the perfect place to stop and take it all in. But, every time, Doc has kept driving. I’d look at him. He’d glance at me “What?” Every time.
Sadly, my and Doc’s “oh wow” moments seem to be different.
We started the trip driving through the Barossa Valley.
And we didn’t stop at one winery. Seriously. Not one. Not my choice.
But we were driving through the Barossa when we came to a screeching halt and Doc did a quick U-turn as I grabbed onto the door and the seat to steady myself.
“What’s wrong” I asked
“You have to see this” he said.
I knew we hadn’t passed a winery, so I was a bit confused.
We drove back 100 metres and there it was. “Classic and antique Chevrolets” garage.
Yes, we’d stopped to look at old, rusty cars. In the middle of wine country.
Boys!
