When Life Clicks

I am a complete sucker for abandoned places, so when the opportunity to shoot at the abandoned Linda Vista Hospital came about, I was helpless to resist. This is a very popular location for movies, commercials, and music videos. For a while it was studied for paranormal activity. For us small fry, it is prohibitively expensive to rent, unless a large group of photographers chip in together to spend the day shooting our hearts out.

This was my first time there, and it was just me with my camera, and tripod, although I also brought a chiffon shawl to play with. Normally, just the abandoned space is enough to satisfy my artistic needs, but this time I felt drawn to introduce an additional element. I decided on on the chiffon because it was soft and delicate, and would create a rather ephemeral, floating presence.

There were dozens of other photographers there who’d planned ahead and brought models with them, props, and costumes. It was a veritable circus, with everything from little girls in princess dresses and teddy bears, to women in nurse’s garb, to a guy running around naked. There was a full-fledged production with lights and video, people with cellphone cameras, and those like me, with DSLRs. And somehow, we all managed to stay out of each other’s way.

Although I could have asked for help at each location (there was almost always someone nearby), I decided to do the shawl tossing myself, placing the camera on a timer, and then just throwing the shawl until I got it right. To me, the shawl inhabited each location with a quiet elegance and grace, bringing a kind of life to the abandonment. Lucky for me, it was a benevolent presence. I hope you enjoy these Ghosts.

Doing these lookalike sessions has been a real blast. Sometimes the lookalike only looks like the celebrity at certain angles. And other times, well, you think you’re meeting the actual celebrity. Such was the case with Howie, who told me a couple of stories about his encounters with the REAL Steven.

The first was years ago, when he went into a restaurant run by Spielberg’s mom. Apparently, she came running towards him to hug him, and only stopped about 3 inches from his face, which is when she realized it wasn’t her son. Even the bodyguard thought Howie was Steven. That’s how he got started as a lookalike. Years later, he was in his car stopped at a light when Steven and his wife drove up right next to him. Kate looked over and exclaimed “OMG, Steve!!! LOOK!!!”. But then the light turned green…

My original idea for this shoot was to create a studio image with a long-reaching shadow, to represent Steven’s reach and power in Hollywood. Having him straddling the Hollywood sign was a happy afterthought, and I was able to incorporate him with an image of the sign I’d taken months ago. Howie appears courtesy of Denise-bella Vlasis and Tribute Productions.

Models: Norman Lear, Didi, Romy

Norman Lear  is a collector of my mother’s sculptures, and I have known him for over a decade, although we had never met. One day a couple of weeks ago my mom called me to ask if I could arrange to go to Norman’s house to take a photo of one of her sculptures for a book on her that is being published. I emailed his secretary who set up the appointment, and added “Norman wants to meet you”. I was delighted. After all this time, I would finally get to meet him. The day arrived and I went over to take the photos, and Norman arrived just as I was getting ready to go. I was so pleased to see him I just gave him a big hug, and he asks someone behind me, “who am I hugging”?  I was in equal parts embarrassed and amused. I apologized and introduced myself, and we had a good laugh about it. For someone SO accomplished, he is remarkably warm and approachable. We chatted for a bit as we strolled through his gorgeous home; him asking me what I was up to; me telling him about my photography, and how pet portraiture was, well, my pet project. By now we were in the living room where this photo was taken. He laughed and noted that he wouldn’t be a good subject for that project as everyone in his family knew he wasn’t into the pets. Of course, I immediately had an idea with his dog that would convey just that and told him about it. To which he replied: let’s do it! Not missing a beat I said “how about Thursday?” “I’m having lunch with Nancy Reagan”. Seriously. “So how about Friday?” “Perfect.” “11:00 am ok?” It was. He called his secretary to book the time for me, and I left. As simple as that.

Normally, I do all my pet shots by myself. They’ve always been in small spaces, and I almost always have the pet looking towards the camera, which helps me direct them and get what I want. This was a totally different situation. Not only was the set quite huge, but the pet would be looking away from me. I needed an assistant, and the first person to come to mind was the wonderful and gifted Amanda Callas. When we arrived with all my equipment, one of his kitties decided to follow us to the living room and check out all the excitement. Could it be? Would I also be able to get a cat in the picture with the dog? With Amanda using dog treats with Romy, and the housekeeper coaxing the cat with Kitty Kaviar (aka Kitty Crack!!), I got exactly what I wanted from all of them. This image turned out EXACTLY as I envisioned. Well, with the happy and unexpected inclusion of Didi.

I call it “Pet Lover”.

The car is mostly quiet on the drive home. I do not know the thoughts of the others, but I’m just absorbing as much as I can in these last few hours. It is no longer about the Outback, or even small towns. The transformation from wild to civilized is complete. We are in the thick of beautiful, agricultural land, and as much as I’d like to resent its newness, it’s order, it is undeniably beautiful.

The canola fields have returned, with their neat rows of shockingly yellow flowers, clouds, and tall, tall trees

The roads are escorted by lush vegetation

Trees are tall and evenly spaced.

and cockatoos decorate them like squawking Christmas ornaments. The skies are filled with clouds. As we cross the Murray River and into Victoria, all signs of wilderness are obliterate. The speed limits are lower; the scenery is greener; there is traffic. Araminta’s Café in Seymour, where we have lunch, is positively Victorian.

Our drive meanders through gentle rolling hills covered with cows eating bright green grass, lit with dappled sunlight from a sky filled with puffy clouds.

Picturesque driveways lead to large estates with names.

The missing “g”

There are sheep, cows, horses. And no emus. Or road kill. This much, at least, is a relief. And perhaps the most telling sign of a civilized culture: vineyards!

Before long, we are rolling through a thick forest

with signs to watch for wombats for the next 10 kms. To our dismay, none materialize.

World’s steepest hill!

And then we are “home”. We drive past the restaurant where we ate the night before our departure; the cottages where we stayed before leaving; and finally stop at Vernon’s mom’s house; the “circle” is complete. Before going into the house and literally closing the door on this journey, I excuse myself and take a walk down the road to take in the magnificent rolling hills cloaked in a patchwork of farmed greens,

the deep red dirt combed into neat rows

and on the way into the house, cultivated rhubarb.

As I close the door behind me, I’m greeted by a true symbol of domestication: Dumas the cat.

The return is complete.

No pictures for this post. This one’s about feelings, thoughts, reflection…

Our last night on the road, and as it is when all good things come to an end, I’m in a reflective mood. So much to absorb, digest, reminisce…

As we turn south and close the gap between civilization and the Outback, I marvel and how far we’ve traveled, and how much we have seen of this giant country/continent. Much of it is empty and dusty; there is far less wildlife viewable from the road than I expected; there are far fewer people to encounter, and much to my inner photographer’s chagrin, almost none of them have pets. Our itinerary required that we spend most of our time driving, rather than stopping to explore the places we visited, or talking to the people we encountered along the way.

This was not the trip we planned for, shopped for, packed for. We ended up with twice as much luggage as we needed, and way too much clothing and equipment. Would it have been better or not if we had continued as planned? It doesn’t matter. Things turn out as they are meant to. I do know that the couple we traveled with are great friends and the success of this trip was certainly due in large part to their company.

In retrospect, the itinerary was much too ambitious. I cannot image how we could ALSO have included the aborted leg to Broome and the Kimberlies, as we have been driving a minimum of 4 hours a day, and more typically 5-6 hours a day. From a photographic viewpoint, it was immensely frustrating, as we simply did not have the luxury of time it takes to find unique angles and out-of-the-way places, the best vantage points, discover their secrets. We arrived at most places we did visit in the middle of the day, when the lighting is simply the worst. But I was also traveling with a group of non-photographers and simply could not impose my obsession on them more than I did. Thus, my photographs are not so much about “artistry” as they are about documenting an incredible journey, amazing places, and extraordinary creatures that most people will never see in their lifetime.

On the other hand, 75% of these images were taken through the smudged window of our speeding truck. So the fact that as many pictures turned out as well as they did is quite gratifying.

Our statistics are quite remarkable: of Australia’s 6 states, will have passed through 5 (only missing Tasmania), and one of the two territories (missing Capital Territory). We will have traveled about 11,000 km (almost 7,000 miles), and packed and unpacked our truck at least 60 times. I will have eaten barra and chips about 30 times though  it felt like 1,000… (vegans need not bother with this trip as the only non-animal fare at most roadhouses in the outback are “chips” – Aussie for fries). We’ve seen most of the major marsupials except for Koalas, wombats, and (live) red kangaroos; many reptiles; tons of birds; some of the amphibians. I have taken about 3,000 pictures (not a lot considering the length of this trip), or 100 a day – about what I anticipated.

Tomorrow we will be back in the lovely city of Melbourne, and back in the hustle and bustle of “civilization”. There will be no fear of bugs in the corner, coffee will be strong as ordered, the bed will be big and the pillows filled with down.  Gone will be the flimsy plastic toilet seats that stick to your butt when you stand up, and we won’t have to check for lurking redback spiders… There will be more than barra and chips on the menu, and we will again enjoy a cornucopia of salad fixings beyond iceberg lettuce, capsicum and tomatoes. And in my heart I will be longing for the dusty, corrugated dirt roads, the emptiness that stretches to the horizon, the sudden surprise of emus dashing across the road or ‘roos hopping through the brush, and the welcome sight of a tiny roadhouse appearing in the middle of the vastness, where we will enjoy our barra and chips, and a comfortable – if not luxurious – night. So far away, so remote, so different, so real.

Today’s post is all about lizards! And colors! And flowers!!

We leave Bourke and it’s tiny cabin and frog-infested bathrooms behind. There is MUCH less road kill (yaaaaay!) as we head for Cobar, where we hope to tour the open-pit gold mine. We pass several goannas (remember Fred?) and frill-necked lizards, who hissed at us as we drive by. Our first stop is at the Great Cobar Heritage Center,

NOT the Outback…

where we learn that the pit we want to visit is NOT open to visitors (although there is a lookout point, which is where all the images of it I’ve seen have been taken), but that the Peak mine has a short tour. We decide to do both, as they are a very short drive from each other. Within a few minutes we’re at the top of a hill, where we see a caged lookout a short hike from the road. Fortunately, the cage posts are far enough apart that I can fit my lens through them. And this is what we saw:

Find the truck!

Then a short drive later, across the road, we pull up to the Peak mine, only to be met with the most quizzical look from the guy at the gate. “There’s no tour here that I’ve ever heard of”, he announces. Then remembers that there is a self-guided walking “tour” just off the road we drove in on. Well, it wasn’t much of a tour – just the remains of the original Conqueror South Shaft No. 15 from 1905, which reached a depth of 239 feet. This is all that’s left of it, and it’s practically in the shadow of the new shaft

Old

New

There was some other old equipment, including this “elevator” used by the miners to get in and out of the shaft.

Roomy!

But all in all, it was not nearly as exciting as the pit we’d just seen. Then it’s back on the road and guess what? We are, for the second time on this trip, again dangerously low on petrol… we all become navigators, checking maps to see where the next town with petrol might be. The only town within range is Mt. Hope, and there is no guarantee that they sell petrol. We begin to worry, again. We pass several places with “sorry, no petrol” signs planted by the side of the road…

We manage to arrive at Mt. Hopel…

NO PETROL!!!!!!

and have lunch at what must be one of the most “authentic” Aussie roadhouses we’ve been to. If you’re interested, it’s for sale. There are a couple of locals hanging out at the (original) concrete bar, and although it’s possible they’re speaking English, we can barely understand them through their thick accents. They’re laughing a lot. Quite possibly at us…

LOL!!! No petrol! stupid tourists…

The owner is a young man in his 30s, who bought this place because he wanted to get away from it all. I’d say he was wildly successful at that. You have to wonder about wanting to live somewhere where the next building is about 150 miles away… Then it’s back on the road, trying to make it to the next town where we were assured we could tank up. Each passing mile chips away at the wilderness; there more and more industry,

fields of flowers,

blue! yellow!!!

and less and less evidence of the untamed immensity that is this country. By the time we get to Griffith, the extraordinary Outback is but a memory. Griffith is a sprawling city compared to the places we’ve been to so far (with the exception of Darwin). It is clean, organized, civilized.

And completely booked because of the first week of school vacation. So our goal for the evening becomes Darlington Point, only about 25 kms from here. There is much to see in Griffith (including wine-tasting), but we don’t have time to see it all. We opt for a visit to the hermit “cave”, which is actually a series of caves and rock crevices where Valerio Ricetti made his home for 23 years. We never make it to the actual “house”, but there is an lookout

a chapel.

And this cozy living room lookout

Pressed for time as the sun raced for the horizon, we only hike for a while along the mountain face, admiring the incredible rock formations

and pretty blue flowers.

I think these are a type of wild delphinium…

they glow in the twilight

And who can resist a dandelion? Especially an Aussie one?

We arrive at Darlington Point Club just before nightfall, without a single wallaby (dead or alive) encounter. We’re a bit puzzled when we drive up because there are no cabins to be seen anywhere. Just what looks like a clubhouse. Which should not have surprised us, as it’s called the Darlington Point CLUB… and as it is a club, Queen’s rules are in effect and the guys cannot wear their hats inside. The cabins are around the corner from the clubhouse, and when we drive up, we’re quite impressed. Even more so when we open the door. This is by FAR the best cabin on the trip, and apparently brand new. It still has that new trailer smell to it.

But, like half the cabins we’ve stayed in, it’s still furnished for a family:

 Bunks!!!!

We rush to get ready for dinner as the dining room is about to close. The club’s restaurant serves Chinese food!! Well, a small Australian town’s interpretation of it… It is as though we’ve fallen through a wormhole. Our excitement at enjoying an alternate cuisine is tempered only by its “interesting” preparation…Still, it is our last night on the road, and it is bittersweet. We know there is nothing left to do but “get home”. Despite the distances, the obstacles, the lack of fresh food, I don’t think any of us REALLY wants it to end. Except for the driving. We could all do with less driving every day…

Strolling back to the cabin in the exquisite evening air, I realize this is my last chance to capture the night sky, something that’s been eluding me since the beginning of this trip. And although the conditions were not as ideal as in the outback, and this is considerably flawed, I finally got my starry sky.

Packing up and loading the car this morning, I see a pair of fancy “choocks” strutting about the yard, and on my next trip back out with bags, notice two little kids – one of them holding the big, fluffy, white choock. I dropped everything, ran to get my camera, and asked them to strike a pose. The boy handed his sister the white hen while he ran off to try and get the spotted one.

Then it was back to packing, and soon we were on our way to Bourke (considered to be the “gateway” to the Outback, and thus representing the true end of our wilderness adventure). Our drive was very sad; the stretch between Longreach and Bourke was littered with piles of roadkill. Literally, every 100 feet there was a little (sometimes big) furry patch or body. Many were old, even ancient remains (just bits of fur and bone), but just as many were fresh, perhaps as recent as last night. When you are the driver, it’s hard to avoid looking at them. At times, it is an obstacle course. The sadness was relieved as soon as we pulled into Cunnamulla, the most charming, lovely, flowered town we’ve driven through since we started this journey. Actually, it’s the first time I remember seeing cultivated flowers in WEEKS!

Our first stop is for gas, then we go to lunch at Boulders (a historic building converted into a coffee shop/café which we pass on the way to get gas).

Now

Then

The interior of the café is really cool, lovingly restored by the new owners, with pressed tin ceilings.

and they’re building a movie screen in the back room.  The town has a charming little hotel

Even the “dunny” is cute

For most of the trip, I’ve been trying to capture these tree skeletons which appear everywhere. I’m not sure what type of trees they are/were, but what’s left of them is so elegant and haunting, I’m addicted to trying to capture them. So far, they’ve either been to close (wrong lens), too far (wrong lens), too blurred, not quite centered, too small, not photogenic enough… I finally got one (even if just a bit blurry) – with a hawk on it.

And speaking of hawks, I was under the impression they were solitary creatures. Well, in Oz, they hang out in big clumps. On trees. Next to the road. Probably because around here, the road is a buffet…

Then it’s more emus, and another dad with FOUR babies – which I’ve been told is the usual number, although our first sighting had six babies, and the one just down the road from this one had three babies…

 There’s always a trailing one…

An Emu couple

And because one can never have enough emus, a close-up!

Elusive emu smile with head tilt

Plus, there are wild goats! We keep seeing them but every time we do, I’ve been the one driving and unable to take pictures. Some of them are rather shaggy, others are really tiny (pigmy). Some have twisty horns, some little ones, some straight. And I don’t have a picture of any of them. But I do have a lot of pictures of very, very, VERY looooooong and straight roads.

Incidentally, we’re on our way to Bourke because of the giant open pit mine we thought was there. Well, turns out it’s in Cobar… so we decide to stop there tomorrow. For our lodging, we have been booking cabins a couple of days ahead of time, but suddenly, we are having a lot of trouble finding caravan parks with ANY availability. It is, we learn, because school is out for some sort of holiday and families are traveling and staying at all the same places we are. We start to panic, but finally find a place that has an available cabin. It’s a “workman’s” cabin, she explains as we walk to it. “Workman” apparently a euphemism for tiny. Without a bathroom…

Well, there IS a bathroom, but it’s outside… but only JUST outside the cabin and not across some field potentially mined with spiders and snakes. But, Vernon announces upon his return from a pee there, that he’d had an audience

 Four of these watched him pee…

This was a “big” one…

And then, more excitement… As the bathroom is outside, and only ours, it is locked. We need our room key to get into it, and it’s self locking when it closes. Naturally, when preparing for bed I went to the bathroom and…. left they key in it!!! I tried knocking on the door of the management, but they just closed the curtains on me. The boys thought they might break in using a credit card (I think they watch too many movies), but (SURPISE!) they couldn’t get it open. They then decide to go for a drive to see if they could find some store open, but didn’t (SURPRISE!). However, upon their return they’d seen the manager in her living room (through the window) and told her that they’d just pee on the bushes if she didn’t give them a key. They returned with a copy of the key.  While they were gone, I had to use the bathroom, and found the community bath the campers used. It had a tree frog in it. But I didn’t have my camera…

We awake to a pair of brolgas – gorgeous, giant storks – strutting outside our cabin. We were cautioned at check-in yesterday that if we encounter them, we are not to feed them. It is a warning that clearly not many people heed, as this couple is obviously trolling for handouts. Receiving none from any of the people watching them (several occupants in adjoining cabins are also out with their cameras), they saunter away, slowly, forlornly pecking at the ground.

Before leaving town, we visit the reason we’re in Longreach: the Qantas Museum, which (like Winton) claims to be the birthplace of the airline.  Anyone who has done any amount of traveling may wonder what is so exciting about getting on an old airplane – even one as large as a 747. Well, oddly enough, it is,

Paris, anyone?

 especially walking around under it,

  and getting a chance to peak at the usually-hidden innards.

where the landing gear goes – NOT a good place to hide

One little camper refused to enjoy the day Ever wanted to peek in the cockpit?

This exact airplane model is used for Air Force One. Incidentally, that lady is sitting in the flight engineer’s seat – a position that has been replaced by computers.  We also visit a retired 707. This one’s interior was leased to the Saudis who retrofitted in luxury (including gambling tables and bars…).

even has a shower!

When then gave it back, it was subsequently used by many luminaries, including The Jacksons on their 1984 Victory Tour.What it looked like before and now.

The panels of this world map (now in storage) were made of gold and platinum

And for the grand finale, a portrait of the four of us standing inside the turbine of one of the Rolls Royce engines:

Brian!

Finally, we’re on the road again, and to my joy, the boabs are back! With LEAVES!

And I am again seduced by the clouds

Rainy season officially begins in October here in Oz, and it is amazingly punctual: it is only the 2^nd, and the sky is already filled with black clouds.

We can see rain falling in large swaths in the distance, and plumes from a large fire.

Suddenly, the road ahead is filled with an enormous vehicle occupying both lanes.

An escort vehicle prevents anyone from passing. Not that we’re interested in doing so, because we need to pull over for a pee stop. But apparently, when you’re told to pass, you’ve got to pass… It’s an earthmover being transported. This tire is about 7 feet tall

 Everything is BIG in Australia…

To pass it, we’ve got to go off the road with our right tires, while the transport vehicle has to go off the road to the left.  The excitement never ends… But wait! Another exciting discovery:

Nopales (cactus to Americans…)!! The sort that grow prickly pears. Even Vernon is surprised to see them here. It is now late afternoon, and the wallabies are starting to come out again. This is what they look like just before speeding road trains turn them into bumper stickers

Moments later, we come upon an emu family having dinner by the road. In all this time, we’ve never seen an emu carcass on the road. Apparently, they’re (marginally) smarter than kangaroos…

Ready for our close-up, Mr. De Mille

And then, the find of this trip – an echidna!!!!!! I cannot get my camera up and focused enough for a face shot (it turned out waaaaay too blurry to post), but here’s an echidna BUTT!!

NOT a pine cone

Soon, we’re in Charleville, with our bed again in the kitchen area Home sweet home, for the night.

It hit me like a hammer this morning: only 7 days left to this great adventure! A sadness has taken residence in a small corner of my heart. Now that we are in Queensland, many familiar faces have returned, including sheep, goats, and EMUS! And the normally flat and featureless landscape has developed some rock features as we near Winton, where we will stop for lunch.

I suddenly realize, with horror, that I have somehow, mysteriously, changed my camera settings and for the past day I’ve been taking low quality jpgs… Not that it makes a huge difference, as most of my images in the past day have been of road trains and long, straight roads through the windshield. Which is what this image is, except that it shows the mirage which often appears on the bitumen surface

Then I notice these odd, mysterious piles of grass, evenly spaced out along the road. After some discussion, we realize that it is the spinifex which has been blown against the posts of the fences.

It doesn’t happen everywhere, and I’ve never seen it before, which could mean either one of two things: we don’t get this in the states, or I just don’t pay that much attention to fences… We arrive at Winton, and are reminded that it is a national holiday; almost everything is closed (curses!), including restaurants. So we eat at the Hotel Winton,

groovy deck chairs

groovy lobby

where we see a sign which claims Winton to be the place Qantas was born, and where the uber-famous “Waltzing Matilda” was first performed.

Curious, as we’re heading towards Longreach, which ALSO claims to be the birthplace of Qantas. Either might have been the airlines’ birthplace, but the Longreach has the museum! We have our lunch in the courtyard, lovely save for the heat and the unbearable flies.

Love how the clouds are visible through the tarp!

Then we stop to tank up, which is where I spot these guys

Pets! One of the first signs we’re headed back to civilization, as there has been very few on this trip. Not terribly surprising, as most of the parks we’ve stayed at have “no dogs” signs posted everywhere. Back on the road, the landscape quickly returns to its vast, empty flatness we’ve come to know and love. Only now, it’s filled with gorgeous clouds:

Then suddenly, there are wallabies everywhere by the side of the road. While not the “hoards” I was promised I’d see, it is more than we’ve seen yet – probably because it is now late afternoon and they’re coming out to feed. Too fast to photograph, and I think I’ve figured out why: our truck is outfitted with a “kangaroo whistle“, inaudible to humans, but makes ‘roos look up as we approach, giving them a chance to get away. Which clearly they do – fortunately not across the road and into the path of our truck. We make it to Longreach in the gorgeous, late afternoon suns, and quickly settle into our digs Our cabin is at the edge of the park, so we have a wide open space to look out upon which are almost directly across the street from the Qantas museum

After unpacking, I take a walk to stretch and get some air and right away there’s a welcome committee

wallabies

and flocks of galahs. I didn’t want to bring my entire camera bag and only brought my wide. Don’t know WHAT I was thinking. Perhaps I didn’t expect to find anything but the 747… I wasn’t able to capture the apostle birds either, who have also made a reappearance. Then it’s back to the cabin for dinner. Late in the evening, I went outside into the night to try and capture the glory of the evening.

Before retiring for bed, as I was closing the bedroom door, I saw and odd little bump against the wall. Upon closer (careful) inspection, it turns out to be a tiny frog, just a little bigger than a dime. Yes, it was adorable, but even so, I called for back-up and sweetie graciously scooped it up into a glass and tossed it out the door and into the night.

We awake to lovely, puffy clouds; I can’t help but photograph them. The boys are at reception taking care of the bills; I take advantage of the few moments I have to myself to play with my camera.

One of the many things you deal with in a car full of individuals is temperature – as in “I’m too hot”, “it’s too cold”… Well, actually, Grace is the only one who says that last bit. Sweetie is usually sitting next to her and whines about the former. She tries to sit on the sunny side. And so all day the a/c is being adjusted updownupdownupdown. Some days she’s colder than others and looks like this

Then the boys are back, and we’re off again, heading towards unknown wonders. And new territory: Queensland!

Depending on who you ask, this is a much more civilized state.  Still, they have roadwork, and the most amazing “detours”. This was taken while driving on the side road constructed solely to bypass the main road construction. The road train kicking up that cloud of dust is on a similar road on the opposite side of the road under construction.

Perhaps we have just gotten used to driving for long periods, but it seems that before long, we are in Mt. Isa, our stop for the night. And soon we are unloaded into our new digs. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a bed in the kitchen:

The check-engine light is still on and we stop by the mechanic (who happens to be just a few blocks from our cabin), but he is closed. Because it’s Sunday. As it is still daylight and early enough to sightsee, we set off, with our first stop a tour of the Hard Times Mine. Only to be told that it is Sunday, and everything closes early. And that tomorrow is a national holiday and everything will be closed… we are destined to not dawdle anywhere on this trip. But we’re early enough for the last call into the fossil exhibit at the mine, which is quite interesting,

sunglasses provide a sense of scale

these guys are about 2″ long

This is also the museum for the mine, and I thought these signs in the cafeteria were rather cool.

Then we drove up to the lookout over the city (which fortunately never closes!) and realized that this is quite a large town, with some interesting places to visit – if only they were open.

The really cool signpost up there has many US destinations, including San Francisco, but NOT Los Angeles…

It is now late afternoon, and we have enough time to make it to Lake Moondarra, about 30 kms north of town, in time for sunset. But first, we must negotiate the cows on the road

It is a gorgeous location with a dam you can walk on

beautiful shores

truly photogenic views,

And one more gorgeous sunset.

Then it’s back into town where we had Indian food for dinner. A much-enjoyed break from roadhouse fare.