The Darling River and Lake Mungo

The Murray and Darling rivers converge at Wentworth. These rivers form the Murray – Darling Basin which is an area important for both food production and environmental diversity.

The Murray starts in the Australian Alps near Mount Kosciusko fed by snow melt and Alpine rain. The Darling is fed by the monsoons of northern Australia. In the photo you can see the muddy water of the Darling in the foreground as it mergers into blue water of the Murray.

I camped 20km down stream of the rivers junction on the banks of the Murray.

Beside the Murray River as it slowly rolls south west to the Southern Ocean around 500km away.

In many ways the Murray forms the southern boundary of the Outback or at least the southern east corner of the hot dry lands that are the outback.

I had ridden up from a cultural holiday in Adelaide and this was the first stop on the edge of the outback that would lead me to Mungo National Park (my next stop) then up the Darling to Bourke (previous post).

Leaving the banks of the Murray it was onto the dirt roads to get out to Mungo National Park – A World Heritage area.

It was hot and I was happy to set up my tent under a shady tree

The Park was once sheep station and the old shearing shed a relic of those times.

Mungo National Park has both colonial and aboriginal history. The colonial history goes back a century or so. The aboriginal history is an over 46,000 years continual association with the land.

This long association was confirmed with the finding of the remains Mungo Man and Mungo Lady. These remains that have been dated as 46,000 years old. These are the oldest homosapian remains found on the Australian Continent. These are also some of the oldest examples of ritualistic burial any where in the world. If you want more information follow this link: https://learn.culturalinfusion.org.au/story-of-mungo-man-and-mungo-lady/

Another feature of Lake Mungo is the sand dunes that stretch for 135km across the horizon like the walls of China, but nature made.

Areas of dunes are called Lunettes because of the luna type landscape. But in these dunes are artefacts tens of thousands of years old.

At sunset the dunes tale on a redish hue as the sun burns the sky orange and red.

That night I slept with wonderment of the place and what a tiny spec modern humanity is on the universe while sleeping under the milky way.

In the morning I did a tour of the dunes with an aboriginal ranger. As part of the tour I help artefacts 10,000 years old and heard stories of the land, this place that had been passed down from generation to generation in the oldest continuous culture in the world. Stories and rituals that had their origin back 46,000 years ago.

As I left Lake Mungo there was a Sand Goanna on the side of the road.

I thought it was wishing me a fond farewell but, looking back, I think that it was a sign that the 350+km of dirt road I had before me to get to Bourke was going to be a difficult and sandy ride.

Been out Back o’ Bourke

In other words the outback,

Out past where the Darling River flows.

Where the roads are rough dirt and sand

The land is harsh and hot

That’s 45c hot on an early autumn day and the days in 38 – 45c range stretched on while I was there.

The recent floods meant that the inland rivers were flowing.

And in Wilcannia where the banks are 12 metres above the normal river height

But the high water line on the doors of the shower cubicals shows the flood got well over 12 metres.

The locals told me that in Bourke when the water was at its highest it was running over the old wooden lift bridge. A relic from the days when paddle steamers plied Australia’s inland rivers.

Water is life. Not just for humans, but for animals, especially birds.

The kites circling in the skies over the rivers.

The waterbirds in the river.

My favourite was the raucous Glossy Black Cockatoos that came down to the river to drink.

While there is always beauty there are also constant reminders of the harshness of the Outback.

There is also something quirky outback and for me this time it was an amazing stick insect.

The dry, dusty, sandy, and rutted roads

The dry red soil

The millions of fish that die when the relentless heat suck all the oxygen out of the water.

The dead Dingo hung in the tree. Supposedly to scare off other Dingos, but more likely a reassurance to the shooter that he has control of the environment. There is no controlling this wild country.

Not far on from.the Dingo Tree is Warnaaring -200kn out Back o’ Bourke. I stayed at the camp ground.

The owner just laughed when I said I was looking forward to a cool shower.

I turned what I thought was the cold tap. Scalding water came spurting out. I quickly turned the tap off. I turned on the other tap and heard the gas hot water heater burst into life as piping hot water came forth.- tap off. Back to my first choice of tap and let it run a bit.

Agh after a little while a nice hot shower from the cold water tap. I guess that’s how hot the sandy soil gets after long spells of 40c heat.0

There is always something quirky about the outback, everytime I visit. This time it was amazing stick insect

You have to look so closely to distinguish it from the tree twigs!

Each trip to the outback is a learning experience.

The Atlantic Coast of Morocco

Mirleft is a lovely village on the Atlantic Coast between the cities of Agadir and Sidi Infi. While it is a small village now there is a lot of building development happening and in a short time hotels and resorts will dominate the beaches.

To get to Mirleft I chose a route through the Anti Atlas to Tiznit from Imlil in the High Atlas. This route was over small back roads and villages and avoided the business and hub bub of Marrakech. The type of thing I like. It’s an easy day ride this way from the High Atlas to the coast.

Between Mirleft and Legzira and its famous arches if you keep your eye out you might just find a rough dirt track leading down to the a deserted beach where you can find a deserted piece of the African Atlantic Coast.

The coast like between Mirleft and Sidi Infi is dramatic and beautiful, especially the rock arches around Legzira. Some of which you can only see from.the clifftop edge.

As I said Mirleft is changing quickly. The centre of the old town it’s own charm with the main street a line of blue painted arches.

One of those blue arched building houses a licenced premise. A different type of oasis in Morocco!

Well friends and followers there are more tales of Morocco to come over the last couple of weeks I’ve been in Spain and now Portugal. So time to change focus and enjoy the moment.

The run south to the Moroccan desert

Heading south east from Chefchouan through the middle Atlas there was warning of the hot dry run ahead.

Morocco has been in a drought for the last three years and the signs were there to tell getting drier every kilometre travelled south.

The mighty rivers were streams, streams were dry and in the dust of dry oasis the date palms struggled for survival.

Heading through the towns of Zaida, a bustling highway town, and Midelt, with its big apple, the trucks full of hay and the produce in the roadside stalls added colour to the scene but the air was dry and dusty.

But I guess it was coming down the Ziz Gorge and seeing the Ziz river just flowing bought home to me the extent of the drought.

Droughts are something we are used to in Australia.

Along the Ziz the date palm plantations still looked green

By Rissani 600 km further south and Zegora, futher on, the green had faded.

But this far south it’s the edge of the desert and that has its own charms.

And the hotels which are largely good and well priced offer there own little oasis.

M’hamad is the end of the road leading to the desert. The wonderful sand sea of Chegaga (see a couple of blogs back.)

The M’hamad oasis was bone dry scorched by the sun even as it set.

With Adventurers setting out into the desert in search of their dream in this nomadic life.

Riding the ships of the desert in the biggest sand sea in Morocco – Erg Chegaga

M’hamid el Ghizlane is at the end of the road the leads into the dessert.

It’s a strange way to start a story about going to Morocco at the end of the road into the desert at a town only 40km from the closed Algerian border.

But this is discontinuous narrative and at some stage I will get back to the start of the journey.

But getting to the desert and it’s nomadic herders was a dream for me.