Dubbo Municipality

The Warrumbungles whispered farewell as we bid them adieu, their rugged silhouettes fading in the rearview mirror. A flock of emus, hundreds strong, watched our departure with inquisitive eyes, their long necks bobbing in unison as we passed a nearby emu farm.

The road unfurled before us like a ribbon, drawing us ever closer to Dubbo. Memories of the Warrumbungles danced in our minds: the majestic peregrine falcons soaring through azure skies, the celestial ballet of stars illuminating the night, and the awe-inspiring wedge-tailed eagle, ruler of the boundless blue.

A spectacle of vibrant green and yellow hues caught our attention as we passed the emu farm—a flock of native budgerigars, painting the landscape with their joyous dance.

Gilgandra, a town steeped in history, whispered tales of bravery and resilience. Here, 35 men, denied support from the army, embarked on a 500 km march to Sydney to enlist for the Great War. Their determination ignited a flame of patriotism, and along the way, by shouting Cooee in every town, their ranks swelled with over 200 more souls, their footsteps echoing the resounding call of duty.

A minor obstacle arose in the heart of Gilgandra, where a toppled dog trailer had barricaded our intended path. With a touch of ingenuity and a dash of luck, we navigated a labyrinth of backroads and emerged triumphantly on the highway, our compass pointing ever southward.

Dubbo, a bustling oasis, beckoned us to replenish our supplies before we ventured further into the wilderness. Our destination: Wanda Wandong campground in Coobang National Park, a name that whispered promises of enchantment. Alas, the campsite itself proved to be a more humble affair, a typical Aussie bush haven nestled amidst a symphony of cicadas and bounding kangaroos. The drop dunny, however, harboured a formidable resident—a redback spider of such impressive proportions that it could have easily claimed the title of Australia's largest.

Beneath the relentless sun, we embraced the rustic simplicity of Wanda Wadong. Sheets, pillow slips, and a week's worth of clothes danced merrily on the makeshift clothesline, surrendering their dampness to the parched air. The heat, though intense, was a welcome change from the humidity that clung to our Queensland home like a persistent fog. It was a dry heat, one that embraced rather than suffocated.

Two weeks of meandering through the untamed heart of Australia had woven their magic upon us. A newfound tranquility coursed through our veins, harmonising with the unhurried rhythm of the road. The burdens of routine and expectation had melted away, leaving only the pure essence of being. It was, in every sense, a state of grace.Read more