Whispers, Winds, Heat & Haven

The first whispers of dawn hadn't yet kissed the horizon when we stirred, cocooned in the soft glow of candlelight and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The bush campsite of Coobang National Park had been a welcome sanctuary, but the open road beckoned with the promise of new adventures.

With a final farewell to the familiar embrace of the Newell Highway, our trusty guide for days past, we veered westward, drawn towards a cosmic beacon. The CSIRO Parkes Observatory, a celestial sentinel of knowledge, stood poised beneath the vast canvas of the outback sky. Sal had last pilgrimaged to this hallowed ground 38 years ago, while Anth gazed upon its majesty for the very first time. For what seemed like hours, we stood in silent reverence, captivated by the ballet of the colossal dish as it pirouetted in a symphony of science and curiosity, reaching for whispers from distant galaxies.

The unabating sun cast a shimmering veil over the parched landscape, but we pressed on, sheltered in the cool embrace of our air-conditioned sanctuary on wheels. Fate, or perhaps the whispered guidance of the outback winds, led us to a tranquil oasis on the shores of Lake Wyangan. Our original plans had been forsaken, a testament to the fluid grace of a nomadic life. In this boundless realm, we were the architects of our destiny, free to embrace the unexpected and dance to the rhythms of the land.

The relentless heat, a fiery dragon exhaling 37° breaths, could not penetrate our refuge. Tinted windows, heavy curtains, and the gentle chorus of fans transformed our humble bus into a palace of tranquility. As the sun surrendered to twilight, we savoured a nourishing feast, a symphony of flavours defying the scorching embrace of the day. Sleep came swiftly, a tender embrace after a day of boundless exploration.

The first blush of sunrise painted a watercolour masterpiece across the lake as we emerged from our slumber. The camera captured fragments of beauty, but the true essence of this scene was etched into our souls.

Griffith, a city woven from the dreams of Walter Burley Griffin, whispered tales of familiar design to Sal, echoing memories of her Canberra childhood.

As orchards heavy with citrus and vineyards stretching towards the horizon unveiled their bounty, our journey continued, each mile unfurling like a chapter in a grand adventure.

The outback unveiled its vast tapestry, threads of cosmic awe stitched with searing heat and serendipitous havens. We were woven into its timeless fabric, forever marked by its rugged beauty.Read more