Pildappa Rock to Streaky Bay
With Pildappa Rock done and dusted we hitched up and headed ever west. Actually south then east for a bit then west then south, but generally westish.
As we scooted across the fantastic dirt road towards Minippa we noticed the early morning sun on the extensive wheat and barley crops created a uniquely Australian landscape. It was a simple landscape with just the golden crops reflecting light interrupted only by the odd tree atop a rise. If we have to be on holidays it’s hard to beat this area.
Not long later we turned left into Tcharkuldu Rock. Pronounce it how you will. Promising similar ooohs and aaahs as Pildappa, this one excelled. It was very different to the other, yet was stunning in every sense. Containing hundreds of individual rocks mounted on a giant, we could have spent days wandering around getting lost. The old story of Picnic at Hanging Rock came to mind with G walking around never to be seen again unless Henry the travelling dog found her.
On the downwind side of the rock we encountered a park toilet that out did the one at Pildappa in spades. Cleary constructed by the same building contractor this one was more than adequately filthy, coming complete with its own warning sign. In simple terms it basically said disinfect this thing or risk ugly parasites of unknown origin crawling into places they should never see. Seventeen healthy squirts of hand sanitiser later were headed off feeling just slightly violated.
We paddled our way through towards Poochera without drama until we decided to contact Trevor and Sue via the CB. “Hey Trev, you on air.” Silence. “Sue, you there.” More silence. Figuring our radio was on the blink we stopped to sort out the problem. As it turned out Sue’s radio had a technical problem. The problem was multi-faceted. Firstly Sue had somehow got the radio on scan then channel five rather than channel 40. To make certain we could not talk to her she had managed to grab the radio upside down, so she did not have a talk button to push. We collectively fixed the technical problem, and all was well again.
Turning towards Streaky Bay we noticed blue guide posts every few hundred metres. They had the letters, FP of SV or something else I can’t remember. For the next 60 ks or so we spent our time trying to figure out what the letters meant. We figured it had something to do what bush fire brigade but never did get it sorted with our best guess being Fire Point. We had nothing for SV.
The Streaky Bay Islands Caravan Park is frankly the best in the country. Yes I will stand by that. So big are the parking spots that both Trevor and I thought we had to put the vans close to one side as it was a two van space. Not at all. The entire spot was ours. Van parked beside car with still room for a road train.
In similar style the bathrooms were all individual ensuites spotlessly clean. Gotta love this place.
Our afternoon was spent walking in freezing cold wind around a little island just off the beach. At low tide it is a cracker spot to explore.
I cooked smashing pizza for dinner under very specific instruction from G. I excelled apparently.