Day Eighteen and Nineteen: Normanton to Mt Isa.
Waking up to a Normanton sunrise will go down pretty well on the list of top eight things to do at Normanton. Freshly cool, we noticed there were no croc drag marks on the ground near our vans and that the tyres were all tooth mark free.
Peter and G headed into town to the tin shed marked up as the best coffee shop in town. Perhaps this was an historic site, for although the blackboards outside told of amazing coffee and other associated treats, there was no one at home. Finally after 6.3 laps to the main street they located a little gold mine.
The arguably tumbled down, let’s say, weathered with memories, Central Hotel, was serving fantastic coffee, quality tea and a really decent bacon and egg muffin. Our thanks go out to the greedy lady before us who bought all the pre-made offerings meaning ours were fresh from the pig and chook.
A look around revealed the hotel apparently served drinks, hot food, good times and as a special treat, an impending table tennis tournament. Briefly we imagined the honour of holding the Far Northwest Qld doubles championship title, however thought others with greater skill may be more likely to take out that coveted prize.
Whilst breakfasting we noticed a high-vis man taking pics of Panther and G-String parked in a side street. Briefly, as the car was impinging on a white line just a bit, Peter thought it may be the Far North Qld Parking Police setting the scene prior an expected influx for the big tournament, but it turned out to be a fellow Landrover lover having never seen a Discovery towing a van this far away for a mechanic before. We chatted all things Landrover, shared our travel website address, and went our separate ways.
After a bit our full crew gathered before heading ever south towards the Burke and Wills Roadhouse, then Cloncurry. With no towns in between, the first almost 200km was filled with listening to music on its 43rd cycle around the clock from our limited selection and avoiding ballistic missiles approaching from behind.
It may have been that Peter had not looked in his mirror for a bit too long, or it may have been his head was just in a fully relaxed position up his backside, but his instruction to G was clear. “Can you call that bloke behind us on the radio and ask if he wants to come past.” I’ll pull off if he does. Peter had seen a car behind them that in his mind had approached quickly and looked as if it need to get to its destination with more haste than he.
“That car behind the Zone caravan. If you are on the radio, do you want to get past?” Silence. Then from Richard, “Was that you Gen?” “Just calling the car behind the Zone, do you want to come past?” G replied.
The mirth in Richards voice could hardly be contained; “That’s us.” It would appear that Peter had mistaken Richard and Denise’s car and van for a sedan in the mirror despite the fact they had been there for nearly 120km. Needless to say Peter learnt for some kilometres, without much credible defence, what and idiot he was.
We stopped at Burke and Wills Roadhouse after a couple of hours for a bite, pee and a go at the defibrillator after seeing the fuel price. We noticed that Australian staff, as at most outback service businesses, were few and far between, with an Asian-Canadian lass travelling lite, or least without her bra as she wobbled her way out to serve our pies.
Headed south again we made good time to Cloncurry, passing through Quamby, noting the pub was for sale. Fuelled up, we did the 50 or so km to Corella Dam, our destination for the night.
The site selection process took on new heights, depths and lengths this day. Finally after about half an hour we settled right beside the lake in a next to perfect spot. Denise whipped up a spanking cheese platter whilst Richard set a magnificent fire. Our day was completed with a sunset over the lake.
Rising not too early we mounted up and headed into Mt Isa. The road in, having been travelled way too many times over the years, is still picturesque. We dropped into the old Mary Kathleen township that used to service the Mary Kathleen uranium mine. What is left is not much but concrete slabs. The visit was definitely worth it however, to understand what a bustling community this once was. Leaving the area glowing with information, we arrived shortly after in the big city. Upon entry, not more than 326 metres from the town limits, there it was. That bloody resplendent Coffee Van!!. We are truly haunted.
Going largely our separate ways to do house keeping things, we spent the afternoon reacquainting ourselves with where things were in the town. As often happens, we met a police officer we knew from 20 odd years ago and chatted for a while.
Richard and Denise caught up with Richard’s daughter, Emma, at the famed Buffs Club as did Peter and G.
Our afternoon back at the van was relaxed looking at the changing reds upon the huge rock behind the van park as the sun said good-bye to another day.
