Towards the doughnut hole

A sleepless night led to a 6.30am departure. I yawned most of the way as KG sped along the highway towards the west. We were undecided. Most people only ever see the Australian coastline, both tourists and residents. KG, who had spent a substantial part of his life in mining towns, was determined that I saw more of his country.

Morning fog

Much of the day was cloudy and wet. KG was disappointed at the uncooperative weather, but I delighted in the shroud of mystery the fog gave everything. The gum trees, the dried out shrubs, the roadkill... everything seemed a little more attractive.

A brief glimpse of sun

The Great Dividing Range is the fourth longest mountain range in the world and separates the urban from the remote. We drove through the curly, swirly roads through Cunningham's Gap, stopping briefly at Main Range National Park. The air was brisk and crisp; KG and I sped up to remain warm.

Fungus among us


A view from the National Park

Having had only potato crisps (Red Rock Sweet Chilli and Sour Cream: I say yum; he says smelly) and trail mix, we stopped by Warrick for some proper breakfast.

The charming town hall, which had some young men selling raffle tickets. The prize? Hard wood. Enticing, huh.


I had Eggs Florentine and the creepy pink non-Lamington Lamington in the foreground. He had salty porridge (which we seasoned with pepper and honey to no avail) and carrot cake. We won't be going back to Lorraine's in a hurry.


Grain silos. Yes, that's where your food comes from.

We moved on to the Aboriginal town of Boggabilla. We stopped by the Wobbly Boot Hotel, which is more of a pub really, for a drink. The bartenders were a friendly motley crue of a family, including an unexpected Muslim girl, complete with a headscarf.

Their merchandise included Dickhead Port. Yes, that's a man with a rather... phallic proboscis. Cough.


Even toilet rolls were chained here.


A burnt down house - an unnervingly common sight in the town.


Pies at Goondiwindi for lunch. Pretty standard fare.

After some discussion, we decided not to drive another 500km to Cunnamulla and instead to spend the night at Moree, which is already about 500km inland. The Dragon and Phoenix Inn was (surprise, surprise) run by the Chinese. KG had stayed there some years back and related a funny anecdote. There used to be tour groups of Chinese tourist visitors and the Inn staff were concerned about bedsheets being stolen, hence forcing guests to check out at 7am.

The main reason we chose this place - an inhouse artesian therme. That's the (freezing) cold pool in the background. The brochures at the reception area depicted the pool to have lovely girls in bikinis lounging about. The sad reality proved to be overweight and elderly. KG and I practicised our French whilst paddling about, enjoying the warm, occasionally almost hot artesian water. The sulphuric smell was quite tolerable and actually beneficial. I noticed a marked improvement in the texture of my skin soon after.

That's my name in soy sauce at the Bo-Wa restaurant. Characters not in order.

After a lovely night out with the stars, we began our long journey home, stopping by the town of Warialda. Having no idea where to head for lunch, we bumped into a woman who had just opened a cafe in the town. KG, ever experimental and genial, agreed to two plates of roast and veges there. The food was charmingly homemade, in speed of preparation, looks and taste.

View from a lookout


Along a really isolated stretch


Yes, there's a town called Texas here too, though the population is probably a fraction of the more well known one.


Stanthorpe - the coldest town in Queensland, is amazingly charming and modern. Though not so modern that the shopping centre remained accessible after hours.

I drove the rest of the way home; the following sunset shots are KG's handiwork.