Kangaroo Island to Berri
Weeks 55-56
Our final days on Kangaroo Island were spent at Kingscote and Penneshaw, to delightful sunny days. Now it is not difficult to imagine why this is a popular destination. We call into American River where there is cheaper camping available, but it is not suitable for our van. We could get in if it was empty, but if anyone else arrived we would be in trouble.
Both townships boast golf courses but you can’t play them all, so we contented ourselves with nine at Penneshaw, just beside our accommodation. We are getting some exercise.
Brian had one last must do, the sheep dairy. They were cute lining up for the twice daily milking, and the cheeses including some interesting haloumi and some platter cheese as well not unlike a strong cheddar that appealed to our palates, but perhaps not our waistlines.
At last we found ourselves with a much calmer journey back to the mainland. The plan was to renew our provisions and head off along the Murray on our way through to Victoria. Oh what innocents we are. Remember those “I think I can” hills? We survived the ups, but not the downs. The linings of the brake shoes on one wheel separated and the wheel was trying to lock. Another traveler followed us back into Victor Harbour to let us know there was a strong burning smell coming from the van, but no smoke. Of course the parts were obscure and only available from Melbourne. Thus we spent the majority of the week shivering and waiting.
We did have some great fish and chips on the foreshore at Port Elliot. Middleton, the next port of call has some wild looking brown surf, and lots of eager learners. From here it is a hop step and a jump to Goolwa and Hindmarsh Island, so close to where we were two weeks ago.
Believe it or not, we did get a round of, you guessed it, golf at Victor Harbour. Wow! Manicured fairways and greens. My score dropped half a dozen points. What a pleasure here. Murphy’s Law prevailed and the day the brakes were repaired and we moved on, the weather was magnificent.
Brian has his heart set on some free camping so we stop at Langhorne Creek for a very pleasant stopover. This proved to be a “small world” experience as the people in the next van recognized me, but we didn’t really know each other. They were from Centennary Park. Turns out they learned to dance with Diana and knew Robyn and Lawrence from way back - their names were Mary and Tom and wanted to be remembered to Diana. I used to ride my bike through that area a lot when I was on my fitness jag so maybe that’s where they remember me from. Who knows.
The following day we learnt who pays the ferryman. Not us. They are free. Apparently there are 11 crossings, and we did only do three of them, but several times on the last, Swan Reach, where we spent two idyllic days luxuring less than a stone’s throw from the mighty Murray.
The river is busy with traffic. Paddlesteamers stop here to let passengers ferry across to the local museum. Houseboats make a leisurely glide down, exploring areas that have been too long to explore in recent memory. Canoes slide by with the current. They made need a motor if they are to negotiate their way back upstream. Hopefully they have a better plan. The sunlight on the cliffs here dapples the waters with a golden hue and as the day stretches, the colour intensifies. What a joy life is.
Brian got to have a game of golf here without me. A neighbour looked very hopeful at the sound of “golf” but didn’t want to share clubs, so I let him use mine. I was secretly glad not to go because the day became quite warm, lovely by the river, but uncomfortable for three hours of golf.
From Swan Reach we have moved on to Berri, to a park by the river here, so the level of ambience has diminished, but we get the opportunity to wash, replenish supplies and fill up the water tanks for the next anticipated free camp destination.
Berri bucks the trend and there is a bridge crossing the Murray, built in the late 1990’s. The locals say they waited through nearly 40 years of promises before it finally happened.
The Murray River National Park here is all but closed to camping, but boat users are free to explore to their hearts’ content. We delighted in the farmer’s market here with all sorts of home made produce, fruits and vegetables. Too many temptations, not all of which remained at the market. The best was a biscotti that you drizzle with water then cover with cheese, tomato, olive oil and whatever your heart desires. You get that marriage of texture and flavour that delights.
Anne, you will be pleased to hear that we also acquired a couple of bottles of local wines to salute the next beautiful sunset.
As I type this, Brian is busy making a grasshopper shield to protect the front grill of the car. He didn’t want the fabric commercial ones for fear of the car overheating on a long hill, so he is making use of mesh and a pop-rivet gun to do the job - he does love a project. I think he will be in the shed a lot when we get home.
Thus our journey is close to leading us to another state, Victoria and a much anticipated visit to Eric and Jacqui, and hopefully the young king Tutenkhamon (which I promise to spell properly next time we meet).
Hope you are all enjoying life as it unfolds.
The ubiquitous Nomads
(almost been everywhere)
