Dreamtime in the back of beyond

It’s known as The Great Buggerall, but, Marion Bull discovers that the South Australian Outback is far from empty. Along with opal fields, mining towns and the world’s longest man-made structure, it’s also full of the spirit and culture of Australia’s indigenous people

I got a first taste of Aussie humour from an air hostess flying over the Eyre Peninsula from Adelaide. “Ah see yah’ all drissed up for winter!” I looked down at the jetlagged coat, scarf and jumper. I could see what she meant – outside, the horizon had disappeared in a vast orange heat haze. We came to land in an alien desertscape that was pockmarked with what appeared to be molehills – this was Coober Pedy’s opal fields, 850km north of Adelaide.

Still feeling a bit of an alien myself after too many flights, I walked out of the local restaurant forgetting to pay, and calmly wandered off to explore the town. Later, when I returned and asked the Greek owner why he hadn’t stopped me, he looked up one side of the dusty street and down the other, and replied, “I knew you wouldn’t be going far.”

Tourists can “fossick” – rummage to you and me – for discarded opal in debris for a small fee. It doesn’t involve going down a mineshaft (although I did) – the mullock heaps that I’d seen from the air are beside the exit to the shafts. It’s a dangerous terrain. I got permission from a Crododile Dundee lookalike miner to get started. But down the mine is another story. “After you’ve stuck the jelly in the level, make a quick escape up the ladder and count the number of explosions. Make sure they add up to the number of sticks, or you’re in trouble,” he said, waving a lighted cigarette in one hand with a finger missing, and a stick of gelignite in the other. Back on the surface, I found a small piece of opal in the first few minutes, just by using a sieve and spraying the debris with water. You can keep anything you find as a souvenir, and some travellers have found enough opal to pay for their holiday.

Most miners live in underground dugouts because of the heat in summer. I stayed in the Desert Cave Underground Hotel, but everywhere is so bizarre that it didn’t feel any different from the rest of the town – some of the bars, restaurants and even the church is under the ground.

All this was fairly tame by comparison with the remote Andamooka field near Roxby Downs, where the road reverts to being a river for a part of the year, and the place is cut off. Until recent times there was the odd shoot-out over disputed claims. There’s not much to do in your spare time, so they built a house from empty beer bottles. I had a look at the small museum, but at a heritage house one of the miners stopped me: “Don’t knock on the door too loudly – the whole place might fall down.” Inside, it almost did – it had been left exactly as it was 60 years ago, complete with stove and cooking pans.

The people are the real gems in Andamooka. The Tuckerbox restaurant is a fount of stories. A few bullet holes mark the ceiling, and the menu hasn’t changed in 30 years. Most of the miners come from outside. There are many different nationalities, but everyone is a character. I asked one of the wives what it was like to live here. She replied, “I hated it for the first 12 years.”

Winter (June and July) is when the Outback is at its most beautiful. The distinctive red and black Sturt’s Desert Pea, the floral emblem of South Australia, covers the earth in profusion, and everywhere the desert was ablaze with wild flowers. Either side of the mining towns, a vast land of superlatives opened up, from massive dried salt lakes – Lake Gairdner being the most impressive, to rocky outcrops over a billion years old, hot sulphurous springs, and spectacular flashes of colourful wildlife.

Crossing the Dog Fence, the world’s longest man-made structure (5,600km) that protects sheep from dingoes, I travelled north of Coober Pedy via the Moon Plain Desert, along the historic Oodnadatta Track to the Witjira National Park. It’s on the edge of the Simpson Desert, but suddenly 60 thermal springs appear at Dalhousie, where I camped for the night, cocooned in an ex-army swag, complete with head covering. Next morning a dingo came snooping around the camp, and a rare young Perentie lizard, that features in legends, emerged from the reeds to the warm sun. It’s a tranquil, mystical place when the 36ºC steaming ponds catch the light. Fed by waters from the Great Artesian Basin, it’s also a magical dreamtime site where Aboriginal ancestors would gather.

With just enough time for a few days in the Gawler Ranges south west of Andamooka, I did a wilderness safari with Geoff Scholz, tour guide and self-taught survival expert. We explored an ever-changing landscape, scattering eucalyptus treeloads of budgies like fluttering leaves as we churned up the red earth, surprised a flock of pink galah birds, and a few inquisitive wallabies. Often we had to stop to let a bearded dragon lizard cross. You won’t find any traffic lights here, or even any other vehicles, just kangaroos painted on warning signs.

The Gawler Ranges are full of nostalgia, from remote homesteads to constant reminders that this land was explored by pioneers just 150 years ago. The odd billabong still lies under the coolibah tree, and an abandoned wagon still stands in a time warp in the middle of nowhere.

But then, everywhere is in the middle of nowhere. We crossed a network of Aboriginal dreamtime tracks in places you won’t find on a map, because they’ve never been written down. It was here that we found ancient spearheads. “Altjira, the eternal dreamtime, refers to the era of creation, and the land of the ancestors is sacred to the Aborigines, which is why they considered these sites their spiritual home,” explained Geoff, “and place names were handed down through generations by word of mouth. Some of these places we are walking on may never have been touched by another European, but the Aborigines have walked here for more than 40,000 years.”

At the Corribinnie Depression, like no other landscape I’d ever encountered, we walked like giants over a miniature landscape of “cliffs” about 15cm high – this was bone opal that creeps over eroded sandstone in a web formation. It was here that we discovered remains of burnt black resin from the spinifex plant. “Aborigines used to extract it to make glue for the spearheads.” There isn’t much Geoff doesn’t know about the area.

The campsite at Kangaluna, it has to be said, was luxurious, not only for its computerised telescope. Permanent tents have queen beds, flushing toilets and private showers. Special dietary requirements are catered for wherever possible, but vehicles are not wheelchair-accessible and the tents are slightly raised off the ground, with three or four steps to climb. Tours are small, friendly and flexible (2-6 people), not very demanding, and can be tailor-made to cater for special requirements, such as shorter drives and more resting stops. There’s plenty of time for photography, and brushing up on survival skills. Geoff showed me how to extract edible sap from tree roots, that is, if you can rip the root out of the ground first, and how to obtain drinking water from plant stems. Bush tucker’s optional, although I did have a nice bit of emu in an Adelaide restaurant on the way back.

Information

Coober Pedy Tourist information: opalcapitaloftheworld.com.au

Desert Cave Hotel: Lot 1 Hutchison St, Coober Pedy, SA 5710
Tel +61 8867 256 88. desertcave.com.au From AUS$ 240

Two underground accessible rooms. Restaurant, café, bar - all accessible

Gawler Ranges Wilderness Safaris: Geoff Scholz. gawlerrangessafaris.com

Domestic flights: South Australia Tourism: southaustralia.com