I’ve driven through three lakes today, a dozen kilometres on the lake beds. Which reminds me, I need to find an Australian dictionary and look up the word ‘lake’. The nearest any of them got to water was the mirage from the heat haze on the road.

But I’ve jumped ahead a bit. Skip back to 7.30am. There’d been a warning of algae in the river. It gets fed from the lake to the north and they’d released algae, although I don’t know why. It meant the water was contaminated, sufficiently that Barb (my hostess at Bindara Station) had warned not to drink even the filtered water.

So I decided to play safe and skip a shower too. I’d been dusty but not dirty, not enough of a smell that Lynx couldn’t cope. Instead when I woke up, the second time, this time with daylight outside, I got dressed, went onto the veranda, shook my shoes to clear any spiders (none, haven’t seen any all trip) put them on and went out. Seven feet from the door, new tracks in the sand, a good sized kangaroo had passed in the night.

No signs of Barb so I loaded the car and drove off. The dog that had played fetch with me the previous evening lay in the shade and watched me go. I closed the gate behind me and hit the dusty roads.

It was slow going. The roads were clear, unpaved but firm, good visibility. I just had to keep stopping. Kangaroos, more alive than dead for the first time, parrots, parakeets, other birds, the stubby black lizards.

The parrots and parakeets continue to be exceedingly hard to photograph. I did eventually succeed, a flock landed in a tree within camera range instead of flying over the river and out of sight.

Two kangaroos in close embrace wriggled clear of each other as I passed, struggling to their feet then bounding away from the road too late to avoid embarrassment. Theirs or mine?

Most of the parroty type birds had been that bright parrot green or a smaller with black wings and green and red bodies. Very pretty, in flocks of 3-5 birds at a time. I found a new type of parrot, grey ones with red heads, far less concerned that I’d passed them. I reversed back, took photographs through the car window. They continued to feed so I got out, more photographs, walked towards them. About 12 yards away they finally decided I was annoying and tweeted to each other, then flew off.

There were other birds, multiple variants of size and colour. Black and white is a popular combination but so many varieties, sparrow sized birds that flit about, crow sized ones with black and white stripes, or black heads and white bodies, occasionally ones that resemble magpies. Bindara Station has 129 bird species on it and the drive along the river away from there was giving me a good sight of many of them.

Further along more of the large birds of prey, this time circling near the road instead of disappearing into the distance. I stopped, got out of the car, took some photographs that will hopefully work out ok. I saw my first car, and people, of the morning, already over 100 minutes on the road. They stopped by my car, a teenager driving and an old man sat by him, long white beard and weather worn face.

“G’day to you. You all right?”
“Hi. I’m good thanks – stopped to photograph the birds”
He looked uncertain at that. I’m not sure if it was the accent or the concept of photographing what to him must be mundane normal bird activity. He decided I was harmless. “Right-oh” and they drove off.

15 minutes later I found tarmac for the first time all day. After all the yellow and orange of the dust, the brown of the trees, the tarmac looked blue in the sunlight. A few hundred yards later my brain had adjusted and it was back to a dull grey, then on the main road grey with red dust patches.

I ignored my satnav, wanting to take me straight to the hotel, and turned into a tiny village called Pooncarie, formerly a port on the river. I parked by the old wharf and bought coffee in the cafe there. The lady serving me asked where I’d come from so I told her the place and she asked how Barb was.

The coffee was ok, and I decided to skip breakfast. I still hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before but I wasn’t hungry.

On the way out of the town (no longer a port, the river’s use for transport largely ending in the 1920s) I saw the dentist, a large walk-in truck with the flying doctor branding.

The route to my destination was easy. “Follow the road for 128km”, but I didn’t. I found a left turn to a world heritage site, decided to take a peek. That dusty road was marked “Closed when wet. Fines apply.” It was the sixth one like that, including the roads to and from last night’s stay, so probably a good job it wasn’t raining. Bindara Station becomes an island when the river runs too high, so I timed my visit there well.

I went through the first lake, the sign telling me it was a lake the primary clue. As I left it I entered a national park, another $8 for the 20 minutes I was due to be there. I decided to get my money’s worth, explored the old shearers’ shed there, keeping good watch for lurking nasties.

There was a visitor centre there too, a history of the local land, an explanation of its world heritage status. I saw ancient aboriginal artefacts, including boomerangs, spears and a shield. In the distance I could see the site they’d found a dead woman, cremated longer ago than any other known human. On the way out I decided my bladder could wait.

More desert, more dusty roads. I caught up to a vehicle in front, throwing out so much dust that visibility dropped. As I drew nearer I could barely see the road, certainly no more than 5 yards in front. I slowed down, ended up trailing it for 15km, the engine choking on dust the whole way. It was a large truck with a large trailer, a tanker of some kind, probably water. Eventually I found a long wide straight, on the curve approaching it I could see it was clear, no dust cloud coming the other way, hugged the far right of the road and accelerated. I managed to get ahead of the dust cloud, too wide for it even while still behind the truck and used my horn to let him know I was there. I was quickly past and on my way.

15km from Mildura I saw a car for the first time in three days, over a thousand kilometres. An actual passenger car, not a Hilux or other truck. Well, apart from the one I was driving, which had looked out of place amongst all the white 4×4 trucks.

Mildura is a large town, probably counts as civilisation. There’s a gypsum plant nearby and vast orange orchards, and the town describes itself as Mildura Rural Town. Instead of exploring I did some laundry, $2.50 for the use of the top loader, dryer extra but who needs a dryer in this heat.

After hanging my laundry to dry I walked into the town centre for some lunch. I ended up at a bakery, an Australian equivalent to Greggs but with a proper cafe area. I had a toasty and a meat pie, and dared ask what the meat is after ordering. It turned out to be minced beef in gravy rather than the lamb I’d anticipated. The coffee was good, and I drank it outside while using Skype to call my bank. I really have spent that much 🙁

No photograph of the meal because I was busy dealing with skype and banks. Back at the hotel my clothes are dry, except the socks. I gave them another half an hour then brought the lot in, left the socks out to dry in the room.

Today’s drive did not take 10 hours. Just under 5, plus a couple of stops on the way. ‘Just under 5’ is a decent description of the kilometres walked too, some quick trips out of the car without my phone making it an unreliable guide so add a couple of hundred metres to the 4.8km it’s telling me.

Tonight’s hotel is cheap and adequate. More than adequate, it has a cheap laundry and a pool, which I didn’t use after watching another guest let his nappy clad child wade waist deep in it.