From the Gilbert River we want to move to Normanton. Although we have seen our fair share of dust, we seem to do well with free campings. The lack of organized order (in our heart we are still rebels) and the ability to let the dogs off-leash sits well with us.
We continue along the Savannah way and see an ever changing landscape. It is all quite dry and dusty though. Every time we pass some road kill a flock of birds fly up. Some of it crows, but also Whistle Kites it seems.
Also Normanton, where we stop at a nice grassy park (you don’t see a lot of green grass in this part of Australia). We get some bread and for Marjo banana bread. Marjo is not quite settled that we’re not in Sydney anymore and that a bakery means some pies and factory bread instead of croissants, snails and banana bread. Normanton hot bakery is one step up and after parting with $4.50 I get a piece of bake product smaller than the palm of my hand with a big dollop of icing. Marjo, generous as she is, doesn’t quite accept it as banana bread. So I get the pleasure of eating my half of a very sweet piece of baked food. Not sure it has ever seen a banana.
Normally we’re not that into statues and stuff but this one warrants a photo as it is quite amazing to see salt water crocs so far up the river but also because it’s named the same as Niki’s agility friend Krys!
Then Marjo’s nightmare seems to come through and that’s the end of our planned camp along the Normanton river.
There’s a free campsite north of the river within bite distance of any croc lurking under the water or in the marshes. Also the strong south east wind turns the sandy site into a sand blaster and with the bus, our ears, eyes full with sand we say to each other (between bites of sand), let’s camp in town.
We cross the bridge back and turn into the Normanton Caravan park which works out ideal. We have a large (dusty) spot in the part shade and while running a washing machine I visit the 25 meter pool (very nice) and the artesian spa. When I return to hang the laundry it’s Marjo’s turn.
All clean I offer to arrange for dinner and walk into town for fish and chips. The Normanton Hotel Motel is the first choice but they are closed because they ran out of beer, fair decision. The second choice is the Albion Hotel (neither has any room but it must sound nice to call yourself a hotel). And while waiting I have the beer I couldn’t get at the Normanton Hotel Motel, would they have been open. The food is ready before I finish my beer and I skoll it, mmmm what is tap beer nice on a dusty day and then walk back to the campsite.
We finish the drinks, sit outside for a bit listening to a not-that-far-away venue where they loudly announce the score of the game, followed by a live band. Not bad. Then we turn in, me snoring after I hit the pillow (finally smelling of washing powder instead of campfire) while Marjo keeps listening till the band finishes at midnight. Not sure she planned to stay awake that long.
Posted from Normanton, Queensland, Australia.
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