I knew it would be hard saying bye to the family but I also knew they had to get on with their lives and we had to get on with our travels. So it was short and sweet when we said au revoir at the end of the Blue Mud Bay track. They were turning right to go back home and we were turning left to continue on the Central Arnhem Road. I’m sure we will see them again soon somewhere. And there’s always Facetime.

So we continued on the quite treacherous track towards the Stuart Highway. We stopped at Bulman for fuel but because it was a public holiday, the store was closed. The track did improve a bit and we finally camped for the night at Mainoru Station which was lovely (and the new managers were very nice!). We had a glass of red, an easy dinner, a quick shower, then fell into bed exhausted.

This was our fourth time driving the track with the van (I also did it with Kyran last year) and it was still as interesting. The vegetation changes along the way and we always see animals in the wild. This time we saw a dingo, a snake, lots of brumbies and wild donkeys.

Our plan was to reach Mataranka Homestead the next day and we did. We have explored this area before and had enjoyed our stay here. We booked in for a couple of nights to dust ourselves off, clean the van and do a washing. One of my first stops though was the hot springs. Heaven.

We knew we were going to start heading towards Queensland and we didn’t really want to drive a route we had already done ie through Mount Isa. John was hesitant about going the Savannah Way because we didn’t know how rough the track would be. Also, our motor had gone on our windscreen wipers although rain was unlikely. In Nhulunbuy we had met Glenn Griffiths who had introduced us to his parents, Anne and Noel. They do lots of travelling within Australia and come to Nhulunbuy every year to see their family. They often spoke to us about Roper Bar and a place called Tomato Island where they have stayed every winter for 16 years. They like to fish there for Barramundi. We were curious about the place and decided to go that way – over the Savannah Way.

The track was much better than the Central Arnhem Road although it was just one lane for most of the way which meant we had a lot of 4wds and road trains to avoid. We arrived hungry at the Roper Bar store but found out they no longer do food. We did pick up a few supplies and I shared the toilet with a huge frog .

It was mid afternoon when we drove into Munbililla Campground aka Tomato Island, where we had heard Noel and Anne say they stayed. The camping area is a large expanse of mainly dirt with gravel tracks. It has a grassy area for tents, a large, clean ablutions block and a caretaker’s residence. Very basic and remote. Next to the camp is the river but you can’t walk on or fish from the bank because there are so many crocodiles. We set up camp and went for a stroll. This camp was set up by Vietnam Vets and has a little ANZAC garden. Some vets still come annually and many regular campers aim to get here before ANZAC Day. The garden was nice with some military objects dotted around, donated by the Department of Defence. One object was a rifle with a slouch hat sitting atop it. We had to go back and look at it again the next day when Bobbie, the camp host told us it had been made by a man out of an old gas bottle.

The campers are retirees who come from all around the country with their boats to spend two or three months fishing for Barramundi in the Roper River. From about 4pm we noticed them returning with their boats and, I imagine, their day’s catch (although we were told by Anne later that they have a catch and release system and only keep what they need for dinner or to supply someone else who didn’t have such a good day).

By five o’clock, most had gathered around the campfire and we were invited to join them for Happy Hour. Everyone was very friendly and we began to see what the attraction was for meeting up every year to share their enjoyment of camping and fishing. We ended up staying four nights and enjoyed the chat and sing song around the campfire. The camp hosts organised joint dinners some evenings- jaffle nights, pot nights and so on, and, while we were there, the women got together for a Mothers Day morning tea.

We had only intended to stay one night here as we were low on supplies and there was no store for a long, long way. However, Anne and Noel turned up and persuaded us to stay a bit longer. They very kindly took us out on the river in their boat and we helped put cherubine traps in which would, hopefully, be their bait for fishing. We had a beautiful couple of hours and saw a sea eagle’s nest, a sunken paddle steamer and a couple of crocs – one was massive!

After a lovely few days, we said goodbye to Anne and Noel and headed along the Savannah Way towards Lorella Springs. We were getting low on fresh water, food and fuel. The track was a little rough and became much rougher driving the 29kms off the road into camp. However, we did enjoy seeing a bit of wildlife including another dingo (with breakfast in its mouth), buffalo, donkeys, eagles and many flocks of green budgies.

Lorella Springs is a little oasis in the dusty outback. Well not so little: it is one million acres of working station and tourist attraction. It was nice to camp on green grass and be able to soak in thermal springs once again. There is a restaurant and bar too. As a guest you are free to roam the 4wd tracks to swimming gorges and other hot springs. This is the main attraction of Lorella Springs of course. We probably went at the worst time for us. John wasn’t keen on paying $3 a litre for diesel, and the meals were super expensive. To camp was $60 per night. We enjoyed our one night stay but decided to move on without exploring the property. Maybe that was a wrong decision.

The track from Lorella to Cape Crawford was very rough and we ended up with a sheared tyre on the car. Being low on food, fuel and water, it was the worst thing that could happen. Correction. The worst thing was that we were unable to disconnect the spare tyre from under the Amorok. It was connected by a wire that needed to be folded in like a butterfly clip but, no matter how hard we tried lying there on that hot, dusty track, it would not work. After an hour, we gave up and cut through the wire. It took us another hour to get the spare tyre on!

We were filthy, exhausted and thirsty by the time we finally got moving. In hindsight, we were probably careless when we reconnected the caravan to the car. About fifteen minutes later we drove through a gully and felt a huge thud! The caravan had come off the car. The shackle was broken, the hitch was broken and the Anderson plug was broken.

It took us another hour to jack up the caravan and for John to make the hitch reasonably safe. We were so relieved to see the Heartbreak Hotel as we limped into Cape Crawford later that day. Heartbreak Hotel is the only thing in Cape Crawford (and it isn’t named for people like us who crawl in off the Savannah Way). It isnt a hotel; it’s a caravan park and fuel stop used by road trains. But it had diesel, a campsite, a shower and a licensed cafe so we were very happy. We even got chatting to some lovely campers – as you do – and they were able to give us some advice on having the caravan fixed and getting another spare tyre.

So the next morning, after a nice hot breakfast, we turned right instead of left and headed back to Mount Isa instead of Borroloola to get some repairs done and fill the fridge at Woolworths.