There’s a place called Larrimah (population 20), about 60 km south of Mataranka. It’s the usual Road House (and I use the term loosely), museum (same) and then Fran’s Devonshire Tea House which gave us one of those unforgettable, purely outback experiences you could never repeat. Fran’s is run by, well, Fran. She has an extensive list of yummy pastries and scones, tea and coffee (advertised as espresso). Fran is one of those classic Australians (spade is a shovel, a few teeth missing, swearing considered acceptable at all times including in front of children) that we love. She asked us what we’d like from the blackboard menu, then said “I’ve only got pies, they’re $11, but they’re good. How many do you want?” Then the man arrived with her delivery of supplies. So all the people (that’s us and the ubiquitous Grey Nomads) unloaded her trolley of stock and filled the store room shelves!
Indeed the pies were good, huge, and devoured with gusto. The coffee was, well, just okay. I think she had a plunger thing in the kitchen – we weren’t allowed in there! As her off-sider was away for the day – that was the reason for only having pies available – we all had to put our dishes in the sink tub for her. As thanks for helping her with the grocery delivery, Fran gave the boys a stuffed toy each, and the coffee was free (which is only fair, as it was pretty ordinary).
Here are some of Fran’s classy signs. I don’t think she spends as much on graphic designers as some.

Having left Alice Springs and crossed the Tropic of Capricorn (23 degrees 44 minutes) the weather has promptly turned tropical! Forget sleeping in three layers of thermals, fleece and down, under two layers of doona and sleeping bag, wearing a beanie, protecting things from overnight dew, and needing Ugg boots.
John has gone on a rampage packing away any item of clothing that looks remotely like something everyone at home would be wearing right now.
And even better, we’re on our way to Mataranka Springs for a dip!

Otherwise known as the Stuart Highway, this road connects Alice Springs with Darwin over the mind numbing 1500 kilometres. It is broken up with Tennant Creek and Katherine, plus a number of smaller settlements which mainly consist of a Road House and a number of derelict houses. Of note is the Red Centre Farm, otherwise known as “Shatto Mango” where we indulged in some mango ice cream. Further up the road, Tennant Creek provided a coffee opportunity, and not much else. It was close to opening time at the pub, and the queue was getting long, so we went on to the old Telegraph Station about 12 km north of town. The setting is not as appealing as the Alice Springs Station, but gives a different perspective to the isolation of life earlier this century.

Karlu Karlu is the Aboriginal name for the Devils Marbles. Over the last 1600 million years (give or take) a huge granite slab with fault lines through it has eroded into slabs that have weathered into the smooth round ‘marbles’ we see today. They are up to 7m in diameter. OR they could be eggs laid Aby the Rainbow Serpent. Can’t be sure.

They are right next to the Stuart Highway, and require no increase in heart rate to wander through. Hence, they are a popular spot to stop. Many wear thongs.
As I’m going for the marble theory, it really is an impressive bit of nature. The angles of repose are extraordinary!

And where there’s rocks, there’s children. If they can’t throw them, they’ll roll them.

There are literally hundreds of these boulders strewn over a large area, and I might have taken just as many photos! So I’ve had to be quite ruthless in choosing just a few for you. This one had to go up.

And the trophy shot.

But maybe they are eggs?

John had a yearning to run along the ridge top of the MacDonnells near Desert Park to Mt.Gillen, the highest peak in the area. As the rain finally abated, he made a dash for it, rising above the clouds to achieve views to Mt. Benstead and Undoolya Gap to the east and Mt. Giles and Ormiston Pound in the west.
After breakfast, we packed up the trailer and then John took the boys for a ride to Mt. Gillen, past Flynn’s grave (founder of the RFDS) and then for the climb (John’s second ascent for the morning!). They made a great video report from the summit, which I’ll put up when I get some good reception.
It was a rather precipitous climb, and the boys took great joy in posing for this photo just for me.

Naturally another planking instalment was necessary:

I did something nearly as challenging – the grocery shopping. We loaded up the food, the bikes and the family and vacated our site in the caravan park for the Nomads who were anxious to take our spot. They like to settle early, the Nomads. And it was after 1.00pm by now. They need to get sorted for “sundowner” drinks, which actually seem to start about 3pm, well before the sun goes down. Can’t wait to be a Nomad! (I’ve already got the Grey bit under control).
We moved on, skipped the East Macs and headed for warmer weather in the north. Stopping for lunch by the Stuart Highway, the boys couldn’t resist climbing the windmill.