After an unforgettable few days in Mungo National Park we rose early to head off to retrieve Harvey from the kennels. There were a few spots of rain so we wanted to get the 100kms of dirt road out of the way before it became slippery. 

This trip was all about discovering new places and we still had plenty of time before we needed to be home, so once we had collected Harvey, we retraced our steps and struck off to Balranald in the Riverina. Our journey took us along the Sturt Highway, a couple of hours of long, straight road until we eventually reached Balranald and checked out the free camp. It was in the car park of the swimming pool and looked a bit grim so we moved on to the Balranald Caravan Park, $25 unpowered on the banks of the Murrumbidgee River. Since our return from this trip there has been terrible flooding in these areas and, at one point, large parts of Balranald were actually in the Murrumbidgee but, while we were there it was beautiful.  

 The town was small but had a little supermarket, pub, cafe and a splendid visitor centre all walking distance from the caravan park and it was very pleasant to walk beside the river keeping our eyes open for endangered Southern Bell Frogs who hide out in the area. In the evening hundreds of galahs landed to graze by our van and as the sun went down the frog chorus began. 

Harvey was strangely sticky with an odd whiff about him when he came out of the kennels so our first job before heading on our way was to stick him under the outside shower. Once he was presentable again we grabbed a coffee and egg and bacon roll at the visitor centre cafe (excellent) and set off. The journey took us across the Hay Plain which is incredibly dull, 1.5 hours of absolutely nothing. Towards the end the monotony was broken by massive cotton farms, thousands of bales of the stuff and huge reservoirs storing the enormous amount of water it controversially takes to grow cotton in a hot, dry country like Australia.

 Eventually we reached Hay and a free camp named Sandy Point, very nice, short dirt road in with a few muddy bits but beautiful on the Murrumbidgee with spotlessly clean flushing toilets. The campsite became really busy after we arrived and someone turned up with a guitar (pet hate of mine when camping) and strummed away assuming we all wanted to hear how talentless he was. We drove into the town but it was rather uninspiring, some lovely old buildings but plenty of newer ugly ones squeezed in between. 

Hay did not have a great deal to keep us there and rain was forecast which could have made it tricky exiting the camping area so we made a late decision to move on to Lake Cargelligo. We drove back into town and got a hot shower at the visitor centre for $2, bought firewood and went to have a look at the museum at the railway station before we left. The museum was housed in two railway carriages and full of fascinating information about prisoners of war who were placed in a camp in the area. The British shipped almost 2000 residents who originally came from enemy countries, to Australia. The reality, however, was that their countries of origin were not always enemies of the British in fact they included people living in Britain who had come from Poland and Czechoslovakia. The prison camp was set up on the Hay Plain where there was nothing for about 100km in any direction so nobody was going to be escaping. The Australians then added some of their own residents with foreign backgrounds, many of whom were already naturalized Australians, quite shocking.

 After that sobering experience we hit the road again and drove the incredibly boring 2.5 hours to Lake Cargelligo which was gorgeous! Frogs Hollow was the name of the free camp with toilets on the banks of a huge lake with pelicans and beautiful sunsets, a great spot for birdwatchers and walking distance into town. As soon as we arrived an elderly chap pulled up in his car and sold Ian a plum pudding(?) these things happen in small towns more often than you might imagine. Lake Cargelligo was a very friendly town with a large aboriginal community. There were a couple of cafes, a pub and a mobile barber/nail salon doing a roaring trade. 

Woke to sunshine but cold winds and picked up some supplies before heading to a free camp just outside Forbes that a camper had recommended to us. We stopped in Condobolin for fuel and discovered a marvellous art installation completely made up of utes all of them represented something very Australian. Condobolin calls itself The Home of the Ute but, apart from the display of utes, the town did not have a lot going for it. There was a bit of an uncomfortable feel to the place with a few people lying on the pavement outside the supermarket and a ute full of hillbilly types cruising around throwing rubbish out of the windows. We decided to move on and got back to the Lachlan Valley Way. Every so often we would pass a sign indicating a sculpture just off the road so we pulled over to look at each one, some were great, some less so but they added a bit of interest to the journey.

 The recommended camp was at Jemalong Weir. It was a bit disappointing actually, completely empty and miles from anything which made it feel a bit lonely. It was tidy with decent toilets and apparently the fishing was good but I wouldn't stop there again. 

We were heading for the home straight after our month away with only a couple more stops to go. Peak Hill was on the route so we stopped to have a look at the gold mining exhibition and walk there, which was great. The town was terribly run down and a huge, nameless company was buying up all the surrounding farms so I don't know what is going to happen there.

 We passed through Forbes, Parkes and Dubbo, all of which we have visited several times before pitching up in Eumungerie. I don't know why we like this place but we do, it is a great stop in a tiny town by a grain railway, $5 unpowered, $10 powered and a fenced oval for the dog to run in. We had dinner at the Drover's Dog which seems to be permanently for sale and the caretaker even supplies firewood for a gold coin donation. 

 Jerry's Plains was to be our last stop because we have become a bit obsessed with checking to see if the pub has opened. Every time we visit it is closed then we see a Facebook post saying it has new owners etc. and we saw one of these recently so we were hopeful we would finally get a beer and a meal in Jerrys Plains.After stopping in Gilgandra for coffee, bustling little town with a couple of very dilapidated antique shops, we passed through Mendooran and resolved to stay there next time. We pulled in to Jerrys Plains and paid our $5 donation then walked over to the pub to find it closed again until further notice.