After saying goodbye to our UK visitors and the newlyweds we set off with my sister Gill for a couple of weeks in the outback. The plan was to start at Hill End, spend a few days in Broken Hill then onto Lightning Ridge to visit the opal mines and hot springs before wending a slow path back home. We had two weeks before Gill was due to fly from Newcastle to Melbourne on her way to connect with one of the first non stop flights from Perth to London.
The photos in this post are taken in Broken Hill.

 Hill End was marvellous, we were only there a few months ago but it was still fascinating. Once a thriving gold mining town it is now only home to a very few people but is being thoughtfully restored and the buildings, information boards and excellent information centre, really gave us a feel of how life must have been in the, not so distant, past. 

The only disappointment in Hill End was the National Parks owned camp site which had been a money in an envelope system when we were there at Christmas, had changed so it was now essential to book online. This was easier said than done in a tiny town with virtually no signal and certainly nothing stable enough to make an online booking. Eventually I found a spot where my phone worked for long enough to make a call and managed to pay that way. The whole site reverberated with grumblings from regular visitors about the change and the price hike that went with it, I couldn't help thinking they should have had a transition period. However, we had a great time there exploring the old mining tracks and walking among lolling kangaroos, Ian even went on a mine tour.

 After a couple of days in Hill End we struck off to Broken Hill on my birthday. We knew this was going to be a long day of driving, partly because it takes quite a while to get back onto a major road as Hill End is in the middle of nowhere along winding tracks, so we decided to get as far as possible before dusk when it becomes dangerous to drive because of the kangaroos. We took the Mitchell and Barrier Highways through Dubbo, Nyngan and Cobar until finally stopping in Wilcannia after ten hours of driving.
The campsite at Wilcannia (Warrawong on the Darling) was very pleasant, just outside the town with brand new facilities but Wilcannia itself was a disappointment. Years ago it was a town with real social issues but we came through about twelve months ago and it was busy with a nice cafe in the centre and plenty of visitors bringing their dollars to the town. The council seemed to be driving this change with good, clean facilities and neatly kept parks and public areas. This time though the cafe had closed down, the toilets were dirty and covered in graffiti and the town was dead , such a shame because it is a beautiful place on the banks of the river we had been planning to stop for coffee there but there was nowhere to go so they lost our money too.

About two hours further along a road strewn with kangaroo roadkill, lay Broken Hill the Silver City. Now I love Broken Hill, I don't know what it is about the place but, more than anywhere for me it brings about an understanding of how it must have been to live in the outback in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. There is a wonderful miners memorial which lists how each miner died and demonstrates how safety improved over the years for them and the superb railway museum has rooms dedicated to the history of the local nurses and tales from migrants who moved to the area.

 Ian and Gill went off to see the Royal Flying Doctor Service (I had only been recently) and Gill came back brandishing fly nets for all of us to wear over our hats. We scoffed at them but soon put them on when we went to see the Sculptures in the Desert that evening which was glorious but also fly central. Unfortunately the starter motor on our car chose this very remote spot in falling darkness to pack up. Luckily sunset was a busy time to visit the sculptures so plenty of willing helpers produced jump leads and tried to help but the car was going nowhere. Eventually the ranger was called and he, along with several other kind folk who had stayed to make sure we were ok, gave us a push and we got started and made it back to the camp site. So Broken down in Broken Hill just like in Priscilla Queen of the Desert. It was Friday evening so, even though we found a mechanic willing to work on the weekend it turned out the part had to come from Adelaide. 

The difficult timing was compounded by ANZAC Day which is a public holiday, falling in the middle of the next week and the breakdown of the TNT lorry bringing our starter motor. The mechanic kindly loaned us a car free of charge(!) so we carried on seeing the sights. We took in the ANZAC Day dawn service, drove out to Silverton, visited Bell's Milk Bar and 1950s museum. Our visit even coincided with a month where the town hall was illuminated and a short history of the city projected as a slide show onto the building, but time was ticking and Gill had a flight to catch. When it became clear the starter motor was not going to arrive until after we needed to leave Gill hired a car and she and I drove back, Ian then had to bring the caravan back once the car was fixed.
It all worked out in the end, Gill made her flight to Melbourne and Ian and Monty rolled back in the day after she departed, Lightning Ridge will just have to wait for next time!