Curtin Springs Station Review

Just a bitch about a place I stayed at this weekend:

The staff are not the friendliest people on the planet.
Very rude and dismissive of you and if you are as unlucky as we were to have any disagreements with them, they won't try to come halfway on anything. They seem to think they are always right and the customer is wrong. Isn't that some sort of no-no in business.

Try getting an apology out of some of the staff and you'll get a cold stone face and a polite 'f@#k off.'

The budget rooms are run down old shipping containers with an interior that seems to have escaped from a dumpster outside a renovation of the Brady bunch set.

The disagreement we had was totally understandable but the handling of it by the staff, who jumped to conclusions then swore to me in front of my family, was not excusable. Then when the matter was solved it was not left alone with staff trying to get the final word even as I checked out the next morning (I had canceled my further stays). Any worthwhile apologies from management will be non-existent. The boss did say sorry to my mother. That was nice of him.

Just get fuel here and move on although I think the fuel is loaded with ethanol or something because it burns quicker and cost more than at Erldunda.

Move through quickly. The best part about my stay there was driving away from it the next day.

But if you must go and find out for yourself don't expect the staff to check your booking details or have any cross communication when someone new takes over the front desk. Concentrate and check your own records to stop them making mistakes.
They will make the mistakes and it will be your fault for not doing their job.

Ahh. That's better. I feel cathartic.

Camping trip in A Turquoise Vehicle

24 November, 2007

It was a peaceful Saturday morning. We rose at the easily denied time of 6:30am. An hour that you normally hear about but never think will happen to you until you get invited to go camping.

The morning snapped crisp and clear and the sun wasted no time in getting its nuclear powered arse into gear. I'm sure it was a lovely 30 degrees Celsius by 7:30am.

Earlier in the week Ben and Fiona suggested we chip in and go along with them to Hugh Gorge which is section 5 of the Larapinta Trail. A place not easily accessible unless you are in a 4-wheel drive with high clearance (or a Turquoise Toyota Rav4 with a lift kit modification and special tyres). How could we refuse since all we drive is a HPV (human powered vehicle).

First port of call was the voting. We were some of the first ones there. Excellent. Last thing I wanted that morning was to stand in a line outside a polling booth. I'd rather get the fine.

Then it was all into the Turquoise dream and the ride of our week.

Cruising around this kind of rocky roads.

And numerous river crossings.

Once we got to the end of the 4x4 track we decided to stop because you know, continuing without a track is a little stupid.

Then the eating began. Something about eating after having driven for several kilometers (or riding as a passenger anyway), the food just tastes better. The other great joy of the whole car camping thing is the table! I mean try carrying a table when you bush walk.

After the meal we went to explore the gorgeous Hugh Gorge. Man, it was a bright day. I reckon it was 30 degrees in the shade. Lovely time to be out. There were no animals out. They obviously were not stupid. The wide brimmed hat has to be the best invention in the world.

We never made it very far before needing a rest. The breeze was great when you kept still. Very still.
Some lizards came out and stood around. They just looked at us then moved on.

Sexy Flowers. Just around the little patches of water there were a multitude of green plants.

Little fern things. I'm doing my best to look ultra daggy. Oh well, at least I can go anywhere in that outfit out here in the territory. I think the colloquial term is, 'territory rig.'

This photo has the red of the rock, the reeds in the little puddles of water and the gums in the river bed. Oh, and who could forget, the SUN. Bright and friendly. It will hit 40 degrees Celsius this coming weekend. Wish us good luck.

The real reason we agreed to come out this far was the promise of a swim. This was about all the water we found. It was full of tadpoles. I threw a rock in and the bottom would writhe around in an angry mess. It kind of looked like a good, Asian soup.

We didn't get very far. Thirty minutes in and the heat go the better of us. We sit in the shade by the lovely rock wall.

We lit the fire early. Ben had a camp oven and apparently it had to start early so we could build up a store of coals.

Naomi and I just lay back and waited for the dark while Ben and Fiona busied themselves with campy things.

But once the sun went down we leaped into action like two dynamos of camping fury.

I had borrowed an idea from Heather's blog (click here). I saw some Chinese guys cooking kebabs on old bicycle spokes. I have old bicycle spokes and we had some chicken so...

Sichuan bicycle chicken (patent pending).


Then it was just sitting around the fire getting drunk and talking about anything at all.

As a by note, I should talk about the joys of going to the toilet in the full moon. You people have to try it. I felt like maybe this was how god must feel when he goes to the toilet.

Ciao.

na na na na na na na BatCHANS

The end of a day's work out bush

You know you're in the territory when...

you see two camels in the trailer at Tilmouth Well roadhouse and you don't look twice...