As we left Goodwood station we had a wonderful sunrise bouncing off the clouds . Louise at the station told us that our nip across to Tilpa should only take 3.5 hours. It wasn’t long before we saw what looked like a very tall but narrow storm cloud travelling in the same direction as us . Not much concern at this point.
We were heading through Tilpa to Bourke both iconic and historic places in the NSW outback. The storm cloud grew as it got closer and I was beginning to get vaguely interested in the prospect of us getting some rain on the road. Now for the non Australians outback roads and rain dont really mix – well they do actually into a potent Goo that could stop Billy Vunipola in his tracks .
So the rain hit and we had a couple of hours of slipping and sliding which was a new experience. In between the mud we had dusty stretches and the different soil types mixed (or didnt ) in its own unique way. We had no escape route to “hard top ” so pressed on to Tilpa .
The Tilpa pub at the time of writing is my favourite Australian pub. The pub is covered completely in corrugated iron and patrons past have written messages all over the internal surfaces (antique graffiti ?)
Walking past half a dozen vanners at the door we were greeted by a sparkly eyed Irish bar maid. As we sat on the bar stools above a puppy so asleep we checked it was breathing we started sharing stories . The barmaid from Galway was telling us just how wild and out in the wild the Tilpa was . It is more than two hours drive on dry roads to anything else She relayed stories that she had been involved in that included
-The organised fist fight in the car park and the resultant tooth hunt in the gravel
-The body search of surrounding roads and river that was resolved when the body awoke from its post pot nana nap in somebody else’s car in the car park.
-The young man who tested himself by eating a live Yabbie (small lobster) and ran around the car park naked.
Kate asked her how long she had worked at the pub – “since Saturday” three days in total !!!!
We then sought counsel in what to do regarding further travel and the weather.
One local said the rain was bad back in the direction we came from , one vanner said it was bad in the direction we were going. I spoke to a local named Banjo (no im not making this up and yes I could hear plenty of Banjos in the background) for advice. Banjos hat was battered , cracked , worn and torn so much that you could see where it finished and his skin began. Banjo was a wisp of a man who looked like he had seen a few things in his time. I got a lesson on decision making. We have just had 3 mm of rain son (not a term i get often these days),the roads to Bourke maybe right ,maybe not . If you stay you might get a fair dinkum storm and be stuck here for weeks. So son its simple either stay or go . Consultation over he then took another sip from his glass of cola .
Now the prospect of staying at the Tilpa was attractive but i had promised Kate years ago that my naked crustacean eating contest days were over and couldn’t return. I felt that i would fall into some great bad company at Tilpa however we aligned on striking out for Bourke.
We were lucky and whilst we did hit some rain and mud it was just no more than we could handle . It was knackered when we arrived at Bourke – having wrestled with the steering wheel for a while . Not even the aircon in the car packing in could dampen my spirits.
Straight to the TI (tourist information) for information on campsites and car washes . The car wash took an hour and cost around 40 bucks !. I reckon we had over 150kg of concrete-like mud attached to the caravan alone. The undersides of both car and van looked like they had been sprayed with a prehistoric insulation to around 4 inches deep. We drew the local kids who asked questions and laughed at us when we answered !
I rang the Izuzu roadside assist and we had an NRMA mechanic with us within 15 minutes for the aircon !! He checked the fuses and relays and invited me to bring the car round to his garage in the morning.
Quick set up at the campsite then a walk through the town to the Port Of Bourke hotel . Lively and welcoming atmosphere with a good spirited and hard working bar man. We had a bit of a chat and as we were he was getting some gip from a young customer who looked to have passed the tipping point. We had a reasonable feed , Kate some G&Ts and I revelled in some great Carlton Draught on tap.
In the morning I took the car to Simmos garage . The mechanic was the same barman from the night before. As he checked the gas pressure he told me that the young guy that had been loud said something very inappropriate to a female customer and that he had to take him outside for a “tussle” . Country justice I guess.
The fault diagnosis wasn’t an easy one so the car was left at the garage for a couple of hours. There was good news and bad. We know what it is but we cant fix it . The long range tank that had been fitted to the car had rubbed against the aircon line and worn through the soft aluminium.
I started searching for Izuzu dealers. The nearest was 5 hours south east in Dubbo – not keen in going backwards. Settled on Moree some 7 hours drive. Spoke to them and set off . Another long day at the wheel saw us roll into the showground campsite at 7pm.
Quick set up , shower then walk over the showground to the Moree RSL. We signed in and then ensured that we met the very strict dress code. Apparently my arse hanging out of my shorts and belly over my belt was ok.
Now at this point I will declare i have had some dodgy experiences in RSL foodwise however this venue was immaculate and the grilled seafood platter (perch mainly) was cooked such that it would put many a fancy dan joint in Melbournes CBD to shame.
At 8am sharp I was in the Izuzu garage. These guys were on it like a flash , crawling under the car and giving a good look see. Now the head guy was very knowledgeable and subsequently incredibly helpful but i couldn’t hold in my laughter when his super sized frame briefly got stuck under the car tow-ball. He rang around to see if there was anyone who could repair or weld the pipe with no success. They also checked the scrap heap for spares. He told me that they had an Izuzu DMAX out the back that had been written off but the pipes were not the same . Then in passing said a woman had driven into the back of a moving road train at night , got caught up in the rear fender and was dragged for 9 miles along the road. In the end she was so scared of the car flapping around that she jumped out the car at above 60k and “took a fait bit of bark off”
He was very surprised to find that the part he wanted was in Brisbane( he questioned one being in Australia). Pulling strings and working the system the part was delivered by 10am the following day. Aaron who fitted it told me that it was a bitch to fit . Had to jack the car off the chassis to get the new part in ,apparently the aircon pipes are fitted before the subframe in the factory.
The next challenge was that Moree was clean out of aircon gas. So we had to wait until 9am on the following morning to pick up the car.
Now we didn’t plan on coming to Moree and in fact we didnt plan on coming to this part of the country on this trip however the showground campground was really well place to the centre of town , the izuzu garage Maccas wifi and was run by two of the most hospitable caretakers you could imagine. Never did get my fishing rod out which is a pity as the tales are of abundant river species.
In the words of the great Dean Martin – thats a Moree !
Kate had grasped the enormity of the challenge and booked herself into one of the artesian spas to support the repair and celebrate world women’s week.