[In 2013, the T-Team, next generation, embarked on their pilgrimage to Central Australia. Purpose: to scatter Dad’s ashes in his beloved Central Australia, in Ormiston Gorge.

Over the past year, I have taken you on a virtual trip to the Centre and memories of that unforgettable holiday in 2013, with my brother and his family, the T-Team Next Generation.

This time, with the trip ending, the T-K Team continues their return to Adelaide, heading for Woomera in the rain.]

Woomera

Part 1

Cheeky Campers

So, out of toilet parole we escaped Coober Pedy, destination Woomera. I drove.

‘We’re running late,’ Anthony grumbled.

‘Ah, we’ll only arrive after dark,’ I replied. ‘Let’s get a cabin in the caravan park if we can.’

‘And, if we can’t?’

‘I don’t fancy camping in this weather. We’ll sleep in the Ford if we can’t.’

‘Hmmm. I doubt we’ll be able to get a cabin; we haven’t booked.’

‘We’ll take our chances.’

Drops of rain splattered our windscreen.

A large lake loomed to the left of the highway.

‘What lake is that?’ I asked.

Anthony read the sign. ‘Lake Hart.’

We pulled into the rest area, come viewpoint to have a break and take some photos. The sun had neared the horizon, casting the salty waters of Lake Hart in hues of pink and lemon.

Some free campers had built fires beside their campervans. One couple had pitched their tent underneath the canopy of the Information Kiosk.

Anthony glanced at the tent and then muttered, ‘Not sure if you’re allowed to do that.’

‘Perhaps a ranger will come along and tell them off.’

‘Nah, probably not.’

‘I guess we’ll never know. We’d better get a move on to Woomera to try our luck.’ I adjusted my hold of the camera. ‘After I take a few more shots while there’s a break in the clouds.’

By the time we reached Woomera, the town was shrouded in darkness, and rain fell steadily. Light still shone from the Caravan Park manager’s cabin. We entered through the unlocked sliding door and rang the bell. The manager appeared with a smile on his face.

No trouble getting a cabin. He explained that normally cabins were filled with workers from the nearby Roxby mine. But this night, there were a few vacant cabins. We were fortunate.

Ah! Luxury! After all, we needed some TLC after no sleep the night before. The simple one-room cabin with a queen-sized bed, kitchen facilities, an en suite bathroom and toilet to the side, and a television would do just fine.

I cooked pasta with canned spaghetti sauce, corn, and chopped up spam. For dessert, canned pears and custard.

Anthony was in his element as he propped himself up on the bed and watched the football.

At 10 pm, I woke with a start. Beside me, Anthony, head bowed, snored while the football commentators bantered. ‘You’re snoring!’ I mumbled. Anthony smacked his lips and sank into the bedding.

I switched off the TV and snuggled into the warmth of the quilt and Anthony. With the sound of rain pattering on the roof, once more, we fell into a deep and satisfying sleep.

[To Be Continued, last chapter next week…]

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2022; update 2026

Feature photo: Last rays of the sun on Lake Hart © L.M. Kling 2013

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Virtual Travel Opportunity

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The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977

Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari