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…Mount Isa (QLD) to Alice Springs (NT)
After our almost obligatory stay in Mount Isa, where entire mountains are being moved for copper, lead and other precious metals, we replenished our supplies for about a week. That was our rough plan for the route to the next major supply point. We also replenished our water supplies so that we could survive a few days out in the wilderness. Then we finally set off, heading west into the Queensland outback.
After many kilometres on a well-maintained road, where there were lots of road trains (lorries with 3-4 trailers, approx. 60 m long), we finally turned off and followed a side road heading west. Behind us was a huge trail of dust, and ahead of us lay the vast landscape, where we couldn’t see a soul. At some point, in the middle of nowhere, there was an airfield and a large sign indicating that we had now arrived in the Northern Territory. Nothing special, really, but in Australia, certain conditions often vary greatly from one state to the next. We were not yet aware of these different customs when crossing the border.
The first settlement on our route was fenced in, and a large sign instructed visitors to register at the village office. Unauthorised entry would result in a heavy fine. The petrol station was behind a high fence and had very limited opening hours. At first, we weren’t sure whether we had to report to the village chief for a refuelling stop or whether we could do so without registering. However, as we wanted to refuel and report outside of opening hours, we decided to skip the refuelling stop and continued on the Sandover Highway; we should still have enough fuel in our tank.
We continued westward along the dusty highway. Along the way, we repeatedly encountered large herds of cattle and large signs warning of biosecurity. To drive on the relevant roads, one would have to contact the relevant farm in advance. Most of the signs had a telephone number on them, but without mobile phone coverage, this was impossible.
To the north-west lay Erlterlapentye National Park and the old police station near a waterhole, where there is now a campsite. We soon discovered a relatively direct route there. We didn’t realise for a long time that we were driving on private land on our new route. Finding the way was also a bit of an adventure, as there was no road marked on our map, but in the real world there was a good road. After the umpteenth pasture gate, there was another large sign asking us to contact the farm office. Despite my Telstra mobile phone subscription with the best network coverage, my mobile device showed no sign of establishing a connection.
We closed the pasture gate behind us and continued our journey across the wide open spaces, a landscape of open forest and pastures, without giving any further thought to whether we were doing anything illegal here. But soon we were stopped and reprimanded by an angry farmer. As we were a little clumsy, she became calmer and more helpful. But her request was still the same: we were trespassing and had to leave her land immediately. She escorted us a long way out of her property. With final instructions and advice, she let us move on and returned to her cattle herds.
After this incident, our mood was somewhat subdued. What is different about this state compared to the ones we have travelled through so far? And, after many kilometres on some road in the middle of nowhere, you suddenly have to call an office and ask for permission to pass through. But without a satellite phone, it’s almost impossible to do anything in this remote area, and we don’t have one. But turning back was never an option for us. Despite our annoyance, we reached a roadhouse on Stuart Highway late in the evening and were somehow glad to be on legal ground.
Before continuing on Binn’s Track towards Erlterlapentye N.P., we made a short stop at Devils Marbles. To our surprise, we were not allowed to photograph all the rock formations and structures at this site; an Aboriginal tribe did not want us to and it is punishable by law. As we continued along Binn’s Track, a cross-country route taken by a former ranger through his state, we passed many small settlements of Australian Aborigines. Even in these settlements, strangers were unwelcome and virtually forbidden to enter.
However, Binn’s Track gave us a certain assurance that we were not really travelling on forbidden paths and we enjoyed the drive through the outback. The national park then offered us another peaceful night under a clear starry sky and a wonderful wake-up concert by the birds, which announced the new day to us from all the trees around the waterhole. We continued our journey along the track and even the signs at the respective pasture gates no longer stopped us; we were no longer interested in biosecurity and telephone numbers.
Part of the route we chose took us through Aboriginal areas, followed by cattle farms and vast bushland. Often we had no idea where we were and followed in the footsteps of Mr Binn, who was certainly not doing anything illegal. The route also took us to sights that weren’t really sights at all, while others were well worth seeing but far away from the tourist trail. Perhaps it is because of the many cattle gates that no crowds of tourists stray into this area; Chantal finally lost count of the number of cattle gates she had to operate.
It wasn’t far to Alice Springs, but the fuel gauge indicated that the tank was low. To continue on Binn’s Track, we had to get the necessary fuel at a roadhouse. After a small detour of 40 kilometres, we stood in front of a petrol pump and the unclear signs on the meter made us uncertain that there might be no fuel. Somewhat surprised, I asked the roadhouse operator if there was no more petrol. She laughed and said that there was enough petrol for us. She had to turn off the petrol pump because of the locals (Aboriginals), as they would fill up their empty tanks and drive off without paying. We were a little surprised by this statement, as we had expected the indigenous people to be an honest, natural people.
With a full tank, we continued towards the first mountain ranges east of Alice Springs, which led to an increasingly varied landscape. It was actually a landscape that invited us to linger, and we kept discovering beautiful camping spots in smaller protected areas. But here too, without mobile phone coverage, we couldn’t reserve or pay for a spot, and we searched in vain for a mobile network. We would have liked to stay and would have paid the few dollars it would have cost, but the system forced us to look for wild camping spots and stay overnight free of charge.
After a few days, we reached civilisation and immediately immersed ourselves in the hustle and bustle of Alice Springs. Our supplies of food and drink were completely depleted. Our first impression of the centre of Alice Springs was somewhat frightening and off-putting. The indigenous population hanging around was impossible to overlook and their behaviour was somewhat disturbing. What is going on with these people? We also wanted to buy some wine, but were surprised by the very limited opening hours and there were police officers standing in front of the shops, carefully checking every customer who entered. We were also warned not to walk around the centre at night; it was too dangerous. Oops, what’s going on here? Is this supposed to be the world-famous Alice Springs that everyone has to visit?
For the next few days, we planned a big loop westwards to an area where larger communities of indigenous people have their own territory and many roads require a permit. After Alice Springs, we are excited to see what awaits us out there.
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