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The cold of winter is now fully upon us, and the solstice is imminent. The days are short, and we've had our first frost. It's long past time to head north for the winter. Sitel has invited us to stay. Unfortunately, that is effectively a choice between their business objectives and ours. That's a sacrifice we're unwilling to make, especially in the dead of winter.
There is time for one last trip away before our contract ends. Fred and Jen were keen to see a little more of Tassie, so they flew down to meet us in Hobart for the weekend. Hobart also provides Helen the opportunity search the state archives for information about her great great great grandfather, who was "Superintendant Of The Convict Establishment" according to the inscription on a family heirloom, dated 1856. Her research revealed that his superintendance was blemished by a scandal about a few missing bricks.
After a few final days in the office, it was time to repack the car, a lengthy ordeal, particularly in the rain. We popped over to Scamander one last time to say a final farewell to Jo and Ted who had made us so welcome during our stay in Tassie. And finally, it was time to get on the boat and head back to the north island.
There was a decent swell and some strong winds so we had a rough ride across the strait.
We didn't get much sleep on the voyage.
Maybe that's why we turned right when we should have turned left.
Perhaps it was just a Melbourne hook turn gone horribly wrong.
Actually, a couple of customers with problems convinced us to divert through Eden and Thredbo.
After all, this whole adventure is about taking the long route for a bit of diesel money.
After a quick stop to see Steve, Kim, and the kids, we headed up to Thredbo. Our previous stops in Thredbo have all been in summer. Now we're here, there's great snow on the ground with more falling, and we have no ski gear. Instead of escaping the cold, we've found somewhere colder!
We stayed long enough to overlap with Barry for a day, and pass on the new found details of family history. It snowed the night before we left, which made the drive out along the Alpine Way very pretty. That set us up for another run along the Murray to Wycheproof, just in time for the Melbourne Comedy Festival Roadshow. After a couple of jobs, we headed north to Hattah Kulkyne National Park. It's normally a wetland, but it's been a long while since the Murray last flooded.
The change in the birds is dramatic, both from Tassie to the mainland, and again as we follow the river downstream.
The crimson rosellas of the east coast give way to easterns, which eventually give way to mallee ringnecks and blue bonnets.
There are the ever present mainland birds, thornbills, fairy wrens, currawongs, and kookaburras.
And there are the less common sightings like the hooded robin, crested bellbird, chestnut crowned babblers, and major mitchell parrots.
The change in the weather is equally dramatic. We are now far enough north to be above the procession of cold fronts that are hammering Tassie and southern Victoria. Finally, we have reached the edge of the warm dry climate we were seeking. We crossed back into NSW to visit Mungo National Park, Australia's archaeological contribution to the puzzle of human evolution. Like Gawler Ranges and Mutawintji, Mungo is another pastoral lease that has been flogged to within an inch of destruction, then turned into a national park.
We decided on one final effort at family history for now. Before heading west into South Australia, we accepted Mick's offer to stop in at Mildura. It was great to chat about classic car rallys and the inter-relationships between the Harkin and Barr families.