Driving into Birdsville from the West brought the memories flooding back. Past the cemetery. Past the Police Station. Past the airstrip.....and past the pub and straight down Adelaide Street. WTF??? I hear you shout. "Past the PUB??? Surely you can't be serious?". Fear not and read on.
Yup, with darkness descending as we rolled into town we thought discretion would be the better part of valour, and that it would be smart to get our camp set up and take a quick tub before hitting the pub. Probably a wise move after five days in the desert.
"For Kit and I, this was a serious walk down memory lane. We'd spent plenty of time working behind the bar back in the early 90's - and hadn't been back since the races in 1995."
Back then we'd been uni students - heading up to help out owners Jodi and Kym Fort with maintenance, construction and bar work in our summer (yup summer) holidays. Needless to say, it was hot, thirsty work. Temperatures would edge toward 50 degrees Celsius in the shade by midday - and the daily aim was to be first back to the dongas in the arvo so you could "get" the cooler water that had been sitting in the shade for your shower. Turn the tap on and wet yourself down then turn the tap off.....lather up....and by the time you'd finished rinsing off, the water was scalding hot. There was no tap beer in the bar back then (there's schooners of Little Creatures now) and you'd have to blow the bull dust off the top of the green cans prior to serving. Needless to say, in the middle of summer, the tourist traffic was pretty thin - but we had the time of our lives getting to know the locals, ourselves and each other. A separate working stint at the famous Birsdsville Races was bucket list stuff and a dead set eye opener...literally for some. But that was another time....and another place!
Part of Australian Folklore
Birdsville, quite rightly, holds a unique place in Australian folklore. Charles Sturt led expeditions through the region in the mid 1840s, and Burke and Wills set up "Camp 76" not far from Birdsville on the return from their infamous transcontinental trip in 1860. On the banks of the beautiful Diamantina, Birdsville is a bloody long way from anywhere - but is a Mecca for outback travellers. The historic pub - established in 1884 - is an obvious drawcard, providing respite for travellers at the end of the Birdsville Track or (as in our case) an even more arduous Simpson Desert Crossing. The weathered sandstone walls (from first hand experience) don't run perfectly square....but could certainly tell a story or two. These days, both the Birdsville Races (first weekend in September) and the Big Red Bash music festival also drag in the punters - seeing the population swell from it's permanent number either side of 50 into the thousands. If you're after an authentic experience - and want to rub shoulders with ringers and locals - then its probably best to avoid these more crowded periods. Whatever floats your boat.
Around Birdsville
We camped at the campgrounds at the back of the Roadhouse in what was, an extremely quick stopover. Given the Big Red Bash was on just days after we turned up - and the Grey Nomads had already been out in force for a week or so - we were pretty impressed that they managed to squeeze us in at short notice (one of our traveling companions had called up from the middle of the Simpson on the sat phone to make the booking). We could have free-camped elsewhere no dramas, but a hot shower was extremely welcome....and it was nice to only have a relatively short stumble back from the pub to bed. The facilities were outstanding - and sunrise over the Birdsville Billabong...just metres from our tent.... was just beautiful.
Our desert traveling "party of five" pretty much split up for the long trip home from Birdsville - with our little group definitely dragging the chain. We had things to see and do, and I guess we really don't know when we'll be back. We headed out to the cemetery to say g'day to a few old mates, poked around town for a bit, and stopped in at the Burke and Wills Tree. It was very rushed - and it would have been nice to have another night at Birdsville (probably during a quieter time for the town) - but ultimately we had just two days to get back home to Toowoomba before the reality of work kicked back in.
Oh yeah....we did manage to stop in at the freshly opened Betoota Hotel for a quick beer on the way home. Old Ziggy who used to own it was famous for charging you $1.40/L of diesel if he liked you, $2.00 if he didn't - and if he thought you were a complete wanker then he'd just plain run out.
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