One might have thought we were in a hurry to leave Whyalla however that would have been incorrect. It is true that we would not recommend Whyalla as a holiday destination or even a retirement place; it really is for those who are there to work and those there to support them. Would we bother to stay there again? Probably not if we were to come this way again, however we did not regret the time we spent here.
The road through to Port Augusta, just seventy seven kilometres, is excellent, long, straight and flat, mainly through gentle country covered in grass and salt bush, most fenced, evidence of sheep somewhere about but invisible to the casual traveller. The great swathe of land between Whyalla and Port Augusta, to the east of the highway and on the western shore of the Gulf, a total of 470 square kilometres is occupied by the Australian Defence Force; the Cultana Training Area is used as a wet season live fire training area for Darwin-based units as well as southern-based regular and reserve units.
Just over twenty kilometres from Port Augusta, the Port Lincoln Highway meets the Eyre Highway, that which sweeps across the top of the Eyre Peninsula and that which we would have taken had we chosen not to explore the peninsula. At the intersection, the hills or Baxter Ranges reach down from the north and the Gawler Ranges from the west, but the road proceeds across the same gentle landscape, so green and so different from what I remember when we approached Port Augusta on the Stuart Highway nearly two years ago.
In fact it was 16 November 2011 that we arrived here first time around, and today arriving back at the same caravan park, we marked the completion of our Figure of Eight tour of Australia, a total of 72,582 kilometres and two years, four months and twenty two days after setting out from the Sunshine Coast. In all fairness I should knock the four months out of that statement because we have spent that time back in New Zealand catching up with family and attending to business during that time.
We chose to return to this caravan park because the only other park in town, is about ten dollars dearer; why would you not choose the cheaper caravan park. Like so many parks around the country, it is a dirty dirt site, but has quite a few trees, an adequate laundry and is altogether an adequate park. By lunch time we were set up, washing hanging on the line and hot homemade toasted sandwiches sitting on our plates; such efficiency!
After lunch we drove across the gulf on the bridge, parked up and found the early polling booth where Chris carried out his patriotic duties of voting in the federal election. We walked on up to the Information Centre and picked up a few brochures for the journey ahead, bought a bottle of wine to be shared between the spaghetti carbonara and the two intrepid travellers, then returned to camp.
In our absence, dozens of other travellers have arrived, four camped up too close for our liking, but then it is a caravan park not a secluded bush camp. Chris was keen to stay a couple of nights, and who am I to pressure my chauffeur?
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