16/09/21 Rocks and Stones: Port Augusta to Wilpena Pound

Certain youthful Port Augustians gain cheap thrills and entertainment by banging, kicking, and generally abusing the colourbond fence around the caravan park. Judging by the state of the fence the battering is a regular occurance and yesterday's episode provided great excitement for the little boys inside the park, until their breathless plans for war were curtailed by a combination of Dad and dinnertime.  The little boys' mother was much less impressed this morning: turns out the fence batterers were also midnight prowlers and in the dead of night a stealthy hand unzipped her camper and stole her phone from beside her sleeping head. While she was mad about the phone it was the loss of five months worth of irreplaceable holiday photos that really hurt. Her sons, not quite so attuned to photos and family memories, were absolutely thrilled to visit a real police station and make a real police report.  On hearing the sad tale all the other campers (including us) indulged in a frenzy of checking and re-checking the whereabouts of whatever they considered most precious and sighing with relief when they found it still in their possession.

All of these shenanigans didn't get us going any faster in the morning: we weren't helped by having all our cold goods in the fridge (and we weren't leaving without them again, thank you very much), so we couldn't have breakfast until the camp kitchen was unlocked at the terribly late hour of 0730. Then we had to dither around finding firewood and buying things and going back to buy the things we forgot to get the first time and the end result was that we barely made it to Quorn before it was lunchtime and Roger had to have a cup of tea.  I tried hard to think of quorny jokes or puns over lunch, but not even the kernal of one entered my mind.

Somebody in Quorn thought of one before me.

One of the differences between Qld and SA is that the ratio of rocks to trees is skewed heavily in favour of rocks in SA, which led to the settlers building lots of their buildings out of rocks, or stone if you wanted to be extra flash. As a result the buildings didn't accidentally burn down with the regularity of Queensland's wooden ones, and a lot of beautiful old stone structures and picturesque ruins remain to be gawked at by visitors.  We dutifully put on our tourist hats and walked along the streets of Quorn and Hawker, gawking.

Some places haven't worn as well as others.

Once we'd had our fill of stone buildings we tootled up to Wilpena Pound in the Flinders ranges, stoping regularly to gawk at mountains made of stone instead. 

Yes, we had to stop and have a cup of tea.

No more tea! Enjoy the view!

This little bush covers the lower slopes of the hills in bright yellow and green, creating great contrast with the shades of red and purple on the rock faces.

Tonight we've made camp in Wilpena Pound Resort. The campground is busy but has enough space to accommodate crowds without feeling crowded. We've settled into our shady camp and feel vastly superior to the poor souls who were either unlucky or silly enough to camp next to a large school group and a fledgling mob of scouts. Theirs will be a long and noisy night and that's without taking into consideration the marauding macropods in the toilet block.

Beware the roo in the loo.

Home for the night: Wilpena Pound Resort.