Since our return from overseas we have been busy nesting, prepping LeVan, our new Avida Esperance, for the start of a happy few years of motoring and discovering more of our wonderful country.

In relation to the craft of nesting I have discovered (or really been reacquainted) with Jenny’s approach to risk management. Now, what I am writing here is in strict confidence – just between you and me, you understand! You see, for Jenny, no risk can be left unmitigated, so you need two of everything just in case the first one is broken or lost, even though our experience tells us otherwise. In a motorhome, space is at a premium, so there is usually only space to accommodate the first thing and not its replacement. Having said that, Jen is often enough proved to be right (again, I am writing in confidence!) and I am left usually speechless – if not able adequately (rendered incapable) to defend myself.

We left on Saturday, heading West then North, with our first destination Peak Hill on the Newell Highway, just South of Dubbo. The rolling hills of the South West slopes are always pretty and as usual we make a stop at Booroowa to restock with Mrs Walsh’s relishes and jams. We also love little towns like Canowindra that have lots of character. So we bought lunch at Booroowa and ate it at Canowindra to be fair to both towns. We have never been to Peak Hill where we had planned our very first night away. Peak Hill probably had its peak several years ago, and the boarded up shops and empty streets was testament to its current state of liveliness. We popped in to the local to buy some beers and there was a lone lady patron who had probably sat for some time on a stool waiting desperately for someone to talk to. We obliged for a while and even though there was a very tempting fire on the go, we bustled off to the camp, where the host was putting on free pizza.

Anyone who caravans or camps knows that caravan parks are pretty friendly and everyone obliges with a chat about their rig, their truck, the best places for free camping, and as a sign of the times, the best iPhone apps for camping and fuel.

Sunday was the longish drive to Bourke, again a town we have never visited. From Narromine to Bourke is very flat, and for the most part, dead straight, with kangaroos, emus, goats and sheep keeping a watchful guard over their domain. The 50 kilometres leading into Bourke sees the highway verge littered for every metre with broken glass, leading us to conclude there may be a problem with alcohol. After setting up here at Bourke, we wandered down to the town which like Peak Hill was very quiet, and we began to feel little disappointed about our destination.

Today however, cast aside our misgivings. I would not call Bourke “bustling” but is has some very interesting sights and the city officials are making a go of it. We went for a ride on the river boat, the Jandra for a couple of kilometres up a muddy and slow moving Darling. The river and bush colours were quite evocative of my childhood on the Murrumbidgee River, not far from Leeton. The big attraction here is the Back o’ Bourke Centre with displays of the people and history of this area which must have been booming in the late 1800s.

I had to smile at the Back o’ Bourke references. When I was a kid (sub-teens), there were three boys of the same age living down the Brobenah Road and Cemetery Road. We were good pals but fought like we were bitter enemies, using tools of war like stones, bows and arrows, slingshots and of course, our fists when we tired of wrestling. As far as I knew, Donny Alexander lived with his grandmother only, for if his parents were around they seemed invisible. Anyway, old Mrs Alexander would, in the midst of our melee, come into the yard and screech “Back o’ Bourke” which was the signal to down tools of war and rush inside where she would have cakes and sweets, cordial and lemonade for us. Refreshed we would resume battle, but probably with less enthusiasm. It was never explained why Back o’ Bourke was what it appeared to be, but we never complained.

The Back o’Bourke Centre also put on an Outback Show, showcasing the skills of the stockmen and cowboys – and the horses and dogs. The stockman, Lachie Cossar was very skilled at his craft, and he complemented his act with country songs and his guitar. I think Jenny is a bit taken with the country music for she bought his CD. Lachie also turned up at our park’s  campfire tonight where he sang and entertained the crowd while we shared the fish and chips prepared by the camp hosts.

We will leave Bourke in the morning with much warmer feelings than when we arrived.The Darling, with its banks lined with Red Gum and Coolabah, is so symbolic of the Outback. And to think we are only on day three – with so much more to see and experience.