What it's like to road trip from Alice Springs to Port Fairy

Robyn Rosenfeldt embarks on an odyssey from the middle to the edge, from Alice Springs to Port Fairy, and watches the Australian landscape change with each turn of the wheel.

I look around. There’s not a tree in sight. The summer sun is belting down hard on the red earth. From this vantage point I can see no water, no shelter and for that matter no life. And I’m going to spend the next nine days driving through this. What on earth am I thinking?

Crude but effective, this is the signpost that greets you at the beginning of the Oodnadatta Track. Image by Robyn Rosenfeldt

All of this is observed from the comfort of my airline seat as I fly from Melbourne to Alice Springs. In two days’ time I’ll drive out from Alice with three friends, on a journey that will take us clear across the country. South from Australia’s hot, dry centre, along the Old Ghan Railway Heritage Trail, the Oodnadatta Track, through The Northern Flinders Ranges, down into NSW to Lake Mungo National Park, on to Mildura and then across Victoria to our final destination – the sparkling coast at Port Fairy.

The Oodnatta Roadhouse. Image by Robyn Rosenfeldt

Trailing the Old Ghan

As we drive south through The Gap, the point at which the Todd River cuts through the MacDonnell Ranges and which marks the outskirts of Alice Springs, we’re all excited to be on the road. Our big red Toyota is packed with swags, food, guitar, eskies, beer and – most importantly – spare diesel and water.

Driving through the flat expanse on the Old Ghan Heritage Trail. Image by Robyn Rosenfeldt

We turn off the Stuart Highway down the Old South Road and, as the wheels spin on the red earth, our adventure begins. The first part of our journey will follow the Old Ghan Railway Line that was abandoned when it was replaced with the current Ghan Line, which runs further west. Named after the afghan traders that rode their camels through these parts, the railway follows the old telegraph line, the construction of which was the impetus for Burke and Wills’ fateful journey.We head south along the dirt red track, past Mt Ooraminna, which we climb before stopping at Bundooma, an old railway siding, for lunch. We’ve barely gone 50km on our journey when we’re almost stopped altogether by swollen rivers crossing the road. Just south of Finke, we come across a creek that has burst its banks and is flowing quickly and deeply across our path. And here I thought this was supposed to be the desert.

To be completely safe, we decide to wade through the river before driving, to check the depth and strength of the current. With water thigh high and almost fast enough to knock us over, we’re a little nervous about driving into it. But we realise there’s no going back, so we give it a go; our big red truck forges a path like Moses through the Red Sea.

We cross four more swollen creek beds, none quite so deep or fast-flowing, and come out the other end just as the sun is setting, turning the surrounding countryside a fiery radiant red. After stopping to collect firewood and admire the scenery, we find our camp for the night, a glade of red mulga trees by a dry creek bed. Kicking back on our rolled up swags, cool beers in hand, we cook and eat dinner beneath the stars. After a few songs around the campfire we roll out our swags. As I lie watching the stars twinkle through the mulgas, with the breeze blowing across the desert plains, I feel high on life. This is the way to live, out in the elements, in touch with nature.

After a quick stop in the morning at the Mt Dare Hotel we drag our swags beneath the shady palms and have lunch, followed by a siesta. Taking our time, we follow the track on to the Oodnadatta through Fogarty’s clay pan, just in time to have a beer at the Oodnadatta pub and find a spot to camp on the clay pans on the outskirts of town. to fill up on fuel and water, we head out to Dalhousie Springs, where water temperatures reach 43 degrees. Just near the springs the old telegraph station buildings stand in varying states of disrepair, beside a mound spring oasis.

Stranded at Lake Eyre…

The salt on the surface of Lake Eyre forms a dry crust, under which lies soft brown sludge. We’re fully aware of this as we drive out on to it, watching the tyres to make sure the earth beneath us is still holding firm. But, like many adventurers, we creep out too far and . . . squelch. We’re stuck. The wheels are spinning and the car’s not moving.Now, just to paint a clear picture of our situation: we haven’t seen another car all day, we have no means of communication and we’re a long way from help. Things are looking dire, so we get the lightest member of our team to jump in the driver’s seat, the boys roll up their sleeves and start pushing, leaving me to do what seems most appropriate in this sort of situation: start taking photos. That is until I’m yelled at. I join in the pushing, eventually the tyres find traction, she rolls on the tracks we came in on and – aaah – sweet, solid ground. That was a little too close.

A close escape on Lake Eyre. Image by Robyn Rosenfeldt

Walking out on to Lake Eyre is like traversing a moonscape. The endless expanse of white stretches out all around you. With an overcast overhead, it’s difficult to see where the sky ends and salt begins. We walk out until all we can see is white in all directions. We’re unsure of where to camp tonight as the surrounding country is vast and vacuous and offers no shelter. Just out of Marree we find a small rise that offers a few ragged saltbushes, so we camp behind them to take shelter form the desert winds.

Flinders Keepers

Leaving Marree and “the Ood" (as we now affectionately call her), we head south towards the Northern Flinders Ranges, stopping at the mining community of Leigh Creek to stock up on groceries, diesel, water and (of course) cold beer and ice.

Hardcore Santana the travelling mascot, constructed of parts collected along the way. Image by Robyn Rosenfeldt

Driving into the Gammon Ranges National Park, the mountains rise up around us, erasing the monotony of the vast open plains. Despite our desire to camp rough we head into the Arkaroola Wilderness Sanctuary and Arkaroola itself. After camping wherever we want most nights, we’re a bit perturbed to have to set up in a designated site in Arkaroola, but the pull of their swimming pool and air-conditioned bar wins out.

Sunset over the desert from outside the William Creek Hotel. Image by Robn Rosenfeldt

Our night in semi-civilisation is really just preparing us for our gradual immersion back into the populated world. The next morning we leave the ranges behind and head south, our tyres taking their first spin on bitumen as we hit the Barrier Highway on our way to Broken Hill.

Mungo Dreaming

After crossing the border into NSW at Cockburn, we ponder the origins of such a name, hoping it didn’t involve a nasty incident between a hot billy and an early explorer. We pass through Broken Hill for lunch and take the road southeast to Menindee and the surrounding lakes to a spot called Copi Hollow, where we camp by the shores of the Menindee Lakes. It’s here that Burke and Wills spent their final months before heading off on their ill-fated trip across unknown terrain to the north. From Menindee, we take the road to Pooncarie and turn off to Lake Mungo National Park, home to some of the oldest remnants of human existence. The following morning, after climbing the impressive sand dunes and exploring the old woolshed, we decide we’ve had enough. It’s time to make our way south, into Victoria.

Across Victoria to journey’s end

Pulling into civilisation – and yes, you can call Mildura that – our rugged attire makes us look like country hillbillies in contrast to the slick, made-up townsfolk. After sipping a very disappointing latte (which I’ve been looking forward to for days) we buy more supplies and find a spot to camp, just east of town on the banks of the mighty Murray.

As the golden afternoon sun lights up the huge river red gums lining the bank, we dive deep into the cool, refreshing water. The lush vegetation seems like a green paradise in comparison to where we’ve been. We have a beautiful night feasting on snags and steaks and watching shooting stars pass above the spreading limbs of the red gums overhead.

The travelling team at journey’s end. Image by Robyn Rosenfeldt

Our final day on the road starts early. Driving south, we skirt the western edge of the Grampians and drive through the reassuring yellow of the Victorian wheat fields, hitting the coast at Port Fairy. As we pull up to the water’s edge, the endless expanse of blue stretches before us, as vast and flat as the deserts we’ve driven through.

It’s been an amazing journey. In ten days we’ve crossed our gigantic continent from the red centre to the distant coast – a lot of the time on back roads seemingly to nowhere. But that almost seems the best approach; you experience so much more and the journey is that much more satisfying. We’ve seen the landscape, the colours and the weather change dramatically. And I think a little bit of each of us has changed too.

Video credit: Tourism Australia

From coast to mountains, hiking in Gippsland offers a stunning array of landscapes, with trails that take you deep into the region’s heritage.

I step out onto the sand and it cries out underfoot. Kweek! I take another step and there’s another little yelp. Screet! Picking up the pace, the sounds follow me like my shadow, all the way down to the water. It’s obvious how this spot got its name – Squeaky Beach – from the rounded grains of quartz that make the distinctive sounds under pressure.

For many, Wilsons Promontory National Park is the gateway to Gippsland , and the best way to explore it is by walking its network of hiking trails, from coastal gems such as Squeaky Beach through to the bushland, among the wildlife. But it’s still just a taste of what you’ll find on foot in the region.

Venture a bit further into Gippsland and you’ll discover the lakes, the rainforest, and the alpine peaks, each changing with the season and offering summer strolls or winter walks. Just like that squeaky sand, each step along these trails has something to tell you: perhaps a story about an ancient spirit or a pioneering search for fortune.

The best coastal hikes in Gippsland

sunset at Wilsons Promontory National Park — Wilsons Promontory National Park is a sprawling wilderness with many coastal bushland trails. (Image: Mark Watson)

Wilsons Promontory National Park (or ‘The Prom’, as you’ll end up calling it) is an easy three-hour drive from Melbourne, but you might ditch the car when you arrive, with much of the park’s 50,000 hectares accessible only by foot. From the inky water of Tidal River (dyed dark purple by abundant tea trees), I like the easy walks along the coast, among lichen-laden granite boulders, to golden beaches and bays.

a couple on Mount Oberon — Panoramic views from the summit of Mount Oberon. (Image: Everyday Nicky)

The trail to the panoramic views at the summit of Mount Oberon is a bit harder, up steep timber and granite steps, but it’s a popular 6.8-kilometre return. The more remote hikes are found through the open banksia and stringybark woodland of the park’s north, or along the multi-day Southern Circuit , which ranges from about 35 to 52 kilometres, with sunrises and sunsets, kangaroos and cockatoos, and maybe even whales.

a golden sand beach at Wilsons Promontory National Park — Walk ‘The Prom’s’ golden sand beaches. (Image: Tourism Australia/Time Out Australia)

You might also see whales on the George Bass Coastal Walk , even closer to Melbourne on the western edge of Gippsland. This dramatic seven-kilometre trail along the clifftops takes in sweeping views of the wild ocean, occasionally dipping down from grassy green hills to coastal gullies and a secluded beach. It also now links into the Bass Coast Rail Trail for an extra 14 kilometres.

Over at the eastern edge of Gippsland, in Croajingolong National Park, you can wander along the lakeshores beneath koalas and around goannas (I keep my distance since one chased me here!). For those who are even more adventurous, the park is also the starting point for the 100-kilometre Wilderness Coast Walk , usually done over seven days.

the Croajingolong National Park, Gippsland — Wander along the lakeshores in Croajingolong National Park. (Image: Tourism Australia)

The best bush hikes in Gippsland

the Baw Baw National Park — The alpine heath of Baw Baw National Park. (Image: Everyday Nicky)

Deep in the Long Tunnel Extended Gold Mine at Walhalla, mining guide Richard tells me how this small town in the mountains east of Melbourne boomed when prospectors found gold here in 1862. These days, you’ll find most of the town’s treasure – its heritage – above ground, with the Walhalla Tramline Walk a wonderful way to explore it.

Just seven kilometres long, the walk takes you through decades of Gold Rush history, following the original rail trail from lush bushland to the mining sites, and through the charming village of just 20 residents with its wooden cottages and old shopfronts adorned with turn-of-the-century advertising posters. Blazing a trail where trailblazers once opened up the region, this is also the starting point for the 650-kilometre Australian Alps Walking Track.

Nearby, Baw Baw National Park has walks through gnarled snow gums and alpine heaths that show off the colourful wildflowers in summer and the pristine carpet of white in winter. Several trails are perfect for snowshoes, including a 45-minute route from St Gwinear up to vast views across the Latrobe Valley.

Further up into the mountains, the Toorongo and Amphitheatre Falls Loop Walk is an easy 2.2-kilometre path that serenades you with the sound of flowing water as you pass mossy rocks and tree ferns en route to two sets of waterfalls cascading over boulders in the remote wilderness.

The best cultural hikes in Gippsland

the Mitchell River National Park, Gippsland — Hike the Mitchell River National Park. (Image: Parks Victoria/Grace Lewis)

Across a pool in a natural sandstone amphitheatre, deep within a cave behind a waterfall, it’s said the Nargun has its lair. A fierce creature, half human and half stone, that abducts children and can’t be harmed by boomerangs or spears, the story of the Nargun has been told around the campfires of the local Gunaikurnai people for generations.

As a culturally significant place for women, hikers are asked not to go into the Den of Nargun, but a 3.4-kilometre loop walk leads you through a rainforest gully to the entrance where you can feel the powerful atmosphere here in Mitchell River National Park , along Victoria’s largest remaining wild and free-flowing waterway.

the bee-eaters at Mitchell River National Park — Bee-eaters at Mitchell River National Park. (Image: Parks Victoria/Grace Lewis)

The Den of Nargun is part of the Bataluk Cultural Trail , a series of important traditional Gunaikurnai sites through central Gippsland. Another location is Victoria’s largest cave system, Buchan Caves Reserve, with trails to important archaeological sites of human artefacts up to 18,000 years old. The FJ Wilson Interpreted Walk includes the naturally sculpted white limestone steps of the 400-metre-long Federal Cave, while the Granite Pools Walk goes among tall timber and moss-covered gullies.

the ancient rainforest of Tarra-Bulga National Park — The ancient rainforest of Tarra-Bulga National Park. (Image: Josie Withers)

Also important to the Gunaikurnai people is Tarra-Bulga National Park , known for its ancient myrtle beeches and enormous mountain ash trees. Just 40 minutes return, the Tarra Valley Rainforest Walk offers a taste of this verdant landscape, while the Grand Strzelecki Track takes you deep into the lost world of forest giants on an epic 100-kilometre trail rich with tradition.

A traveller’s checklist

Staying there

the WildernessRetreats in The Prom — Wilderness Retreats in The Prom. (Image: Christian Pearson)

Wilderness Retreats in Wilsons Promontory offers glamping-style tents with luxurious queen beds. Star Hotel is a reconstruction of a Gold Rush-era hotel from 1863 in the heart of heritage Walhalla. Caves House is a historic three-bedroom house with views over the Buchan River.

Eating there

the Carrajung Estate, Gippsland — Enjoy a post-hike lunch at Carrajung Estate. (Image: Everyday Nicky)

Kilcunda General Store serves great coffee and meals of local produce at the George Bass Coastal Walk. Alpine Trout Farm is located near Toorongo Falls in Noojee. Fish for your own lunch and barbecue it with the provided cookware.

Carrajung Estate is a short drive from Tarra-Bulga National Park. The winery’s restaurant offers a seasonal menu of regional ingredients and you can stay at The Lodge.

a seafood feast at Carrajung Estate, Gippsland — The table is set for a seafood feast at the estate.