25 October 2011 - Devil’s Marbles Conservation Park, Northern Territory

It took some time this morning to clean up the zillions of bugs throughout the van, killed by zapper and flyspray, a thick black carpet on the floor. However once done, and breakfast over, we set off west again, still travelling through burnt pastoral land. All of which felt flat, but was in fact very gently sloping up then down and up again. These are the Barkly Tablelands and are larger than the state of Victoria. Dotted through this blackened landscape were patches of bush, far greener than you would expect. We even noticed puddles of water on the road side in places, although we did not encounter any rain ourselves. On reaching the Stuart Highway, that which runs north – south from Darwin to Adelaide, having travelled about 450 kilometres from the border crossing, we turned south toward Tennant Creek.

Once on this more major road, we were not bothered by many road trains, instead the trucks gave way to cars and utes.

We pulled in to the Mary Anne Dam water reservoir a few kilometres north of Tennant Creek for lunch and were delighted to find this oasis, complete with playground, picnic areas, walkways including one that appeared to lead all the way on to the town.

Lunch spot beside the Mary Anne Dam

Until it was completed in 1979, those in Tennant Creek had relied on water carried from distant bores. One might well wonder why then did anyone settle in such a hell hole. Tennant Creek like most of the settlements we will pass through on our way south was one of the many Telegraph Stations and much more recently the base from which many lived when the rail was extended from Alice Springs to Darwin.

We paused in Tennant Creek only long enough to refuel, buy some masking tape, filler and a dispensing gun at the hardware store and to buy a day old newspaper at the obligatory inflated price.

Tennant Creek has a population today of about 3,000 people. It began as the last great gold rush of Australia as late as the 1930s so the town is relatively young. Hence it has none to the once grand two story buildings we have so admired in Queensland and New South Wales. Instead the buildings are all low and mostly barricaded in with bars and net wire. Those locals who do not work, of which there seem to be many, wander or hang about the wide and otherwise quite pleasant main street.

A further 140 kilometres south is the Devils Marbles Conservation Reserve. Chris remembered stopping in there thirty nine years ago when he was travelling with his mate, Stan, and while having no memory of anything remarkable, thought it would be negligent to continue on past without a cursory visit. This basin of orange land, holding thousands of huge marble like rocks was well worth the visit. Such formations are often considered, by the ignorant such as myself, to have been flung or belched up by some ancient volcano. Not so here; they are rocks that have been worn away by water to leave this accumulation of curious shapes. According to aboriginal myth, they are the eggs of the Rainbow Serpent who features in nearly every tale spun.

Our camp at the Devil's Marbles

We stopped at a couple of wayside spots on the road side from where we could wander about, and then decided to check out the camp which was mentioned in our Camps 5 bible, but as having a cost. We agreed that we would be willing to pay up to $20 to overnight but not a penny more. Imagine our delight to find this little bush camp tucked away behind one of the hillocks of boulders, with shelters, toilets, rubbish bins, fireplaces but no water, inviting us to stay for the grand total of $3.30 per person per night. It was a no-brainer; we elected at once to stay.

Sunset over the Devil's Marbles

By night fall there were probably a dozen other travellers parked up for the night, one a family of six, the children aged about four to twelve, on a three month adventure from Mornington Peninsula in Victoria, up to Darwin and down the west before heading home. I had noted one of the foreign tourists come over to our fireplace and take an armful of wood that had been left by the ranger. It had not had our name on it so I guess we had no particular claim, however we were soon impressed to be called upon by the mother of this youthful tribe asking if they too may have some wood. We offered it all, understanding that a camp fire is one of the delights of a travelling experience especially for children. And besides, we had spent time at the Mary Ann Dam collecting quite a pile of sticks and stumps for this very purpose.

After dinner, Chris set a fire and was impatient for me to join him when he had an absolute blaze, contained in the metal fireplace bowls. We sat into the evening until it had died away, watching and listening to the four children chattering around their fire, debating the merits of toasting marshmallows. When we finally went in, we were once again plagued by insects despite the fact that Chris had taped up all the edges of the window frames and the air conditioner. The mystery and the chaos remained. Once more it was early to bed courtesy of Outback marauders.