When winter arrives back home in Canada, and the temperatures drop too low, we escape to the sunny beaches of the Caribbean or the warm days in Florida. There’s even a term for Canadian retirees who migrate south for the winter: “snowbirds.” In Australia, however, the situation is quite the opposite. When the weather got too hot, we headed south.
After saying farewell to the magical Uluru, we travelled down south, and it turned out to be the right decision. We stopped for the night at a bush camp along the road between Darwin and Adelaide, unlike anything else in the world. The emptiness and vastness surrounding us were profound, and for a moment I felt as if I were in a post-apocalyptic movie.
But then the road trains came. I assumed that, like any sensible person, the drivers of these massive vehicles would stop for the night. Just picture this: Sitting with a lovely dinner and a glass of wine after a long day, when a thunderous sound approaches. Suddenly, a huge truck, pulling four or five brightly lit wagons, zooms by at unbelievable speed. The stars reappear after it passes—until the next road train comes along.
So, we decided to move La Casita a bit farther away from the road in the dark. Finding a good camping spot at night is not easy, especially when it rains. In the morning, we woke up surrounded by a small lake. But our strategy to escape the heat worked. For the first time in three months, I put on long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Plus, we used our roof door for the first time, which made it convenient to move from the sleeping cabin to the car cabin without getting our feet wet.
As we drove toward Coober Pedy, the landscape started to shift. The desert finally looked like the desert, instead of just a bunch of bushes. Until then, we’d been cruising through a semi-arid area that still had grass and shrubs. But now the ground was strikingly bare, super dry, and exposed, with red puddles from the rain and no plants around. As we got closer to town, we noticed piles of earth scattered everywhere, almost like forgotten monuments. It felt like giant moles had been digging underground, making the whole place look like a scene from a cheesy sci-fi movie.
When we got to town, we figured out why the landscape was so odd: Coober Pedy is the opal capital of the world. They say the city’s name comes from the Aboriginal “kupa piti”, which translates to “white man in a hole”. People have spent years digging for opals and have turned the mines and caverns into homes, shops, churches, and even hotels.
Coober Pedy is known for its scorching summer heat, which can go above 50 degrees Celsius, but instead, we were hit with crazy rain. It was pouring so hard that it felt like La Casita was hitting a wall of water. After driving a couple of hours in this rain, Ivan announced that, with our shoebox-like aerodynamic shape, fuel consumption had almost doubled. We couldn’t stop at Kanku-Breakaways Conservation Park like we planned because all the roads there were closed.
Arriving in town early, the rain left us with one option: check out the underground museum at Old Timers Mine. It was something out of the ordinary. We learned how folks adapted the caverns left from mining into their homes. Plus, we got tips on what to look for if we decided to go hunting for opals ourselves.
Our next stop on this unexpectedly rainy day was the Serbian Orthodox Church. And guess what? It was underground too.
Early the next morning, we were super happy to see the sun shining. We decided to wait for the ground to dry before heading out to go noodling (opal gathering), so we visited Crocodile Harry’s place instead. The drive on the unpaved road to his house after the rain was a bit tricky, but our amazing car (and friend) handled it like a champ.
Arvid Blumenthal, aka Crocodile Harry, was a baron from Latvia who fought for Germany in WWII. After that, he moved to Australia and hunted crocodiles for 13 years before settling in Coober Pedy in 1975. He claimed to have taken down between 10,000 and 30,000 crocs! It’s said that the “Crocodile Dundee” movie was inspired by him. In Coober Pedy, he lived underground and filled his place with what you could call “eccentric” mementos from his romantic escapades. His house is so wild that it was even used for a scene in “Mad Max.” A notorious womanizer, Crocodile Harry kept bras and panties in his Nest as trophies of his conquests. Later in life, he seemed to settle down a bit, marrying a German singer named Marta and spending his days sculpting. Harry passed away in 2006, but the new owner still lets visitors check out Crocodile Harry’s Underground Nest & Dugout. Since we were the only brave souls to make the trek in the mud, we had the whole place to ourselves and had some fun chats.
When it finally came time to hunt for opals, we got a bit lucky, although we definitely can’t say we struck it rich. Still, we felt rich in our own way, thanks to all the amazing memories we were making.
For the next few days, we hit Port Lincoln and explored Lincoln National Park. Hiking in South Australia is way different from sweating our way through the heat in Western Australia or the Northern Territory. Even the longer hikes around Boston Bay, the largest natural harbour in Australia, were really enjoyable, with great ocean views, white-sand beaches, and nice weather.
The Stamford Hill Loop, which is one of the top 40 short walks in SA, was a blast. I think I saw some wild Australian cats in the park, but they were too quick for me to snap a picture. And yeah, I know wild cats can be a risk to native wildlife, but let’s be real—I’ll always be that crazy cat lady with a soft spot for any cat.
In the afternoon, I even found time to bury Ivan up to his neck in the stones. I thought about leaving him there on the beach for some scary Australian beast, but my soft heart won out, and I dug him back up. I even cooked him dinner that night. Just look at how happy he is!
When I planned our trip, I made sure to include Magnetic Hill on our route. It’s this funky spot near Orroroo where cars look like they’re rolling uphill—something you really have to see to believe. We drove for a couple of hours on some super dusty roads to check this out. I’ve got two sons who are into physics, so I thought it’d be fun to say, “See, not everything is science. There are still some mysteries and magic in the world.” Once we got there, Ivan turned off the ignition, put the car in neutral, and released the brake… but nothing happened. We kept trying, and I won’t repeat the creative words he used after that—let’s just say they were R-rated.
We crashed for the night at a free campsite in Yongala, a tiny town with a population of just 59. I totally recommend checking out the RV-friendly towns website for camping spots in Australia (https://rvfriendly.cmca.net.au/Map/RVFriendlyMap). There are so many hidden gems like this little town. That evening, a noisy flock of Galah cockatoos gathered above our camper, which was fun, but then we hit a problem —our Starlink stopped working. To install it permanently on the roof, Ivan cut the original dish, removed some motors from it, and put it in a waterproof enclosure. It stayed waterproof for a couple of years, but after months of the cruel Australian sun and the torrential rain in Coober Pedy, it was no longer waterproof.
On the way to Adelaide, we drove through a bunch of small local communities, from well-kept towns to some that seemed forgotten. I’ve always loved road trips through little country towns. Over the last couple of months, we’ve seen some stunning landscapes, but I really missed the charm of those cozy Victorian towns. We spent two wonderful days soaking in the laid-back vibe of Clare, Burra, Tanunda, Angaston, and all the tiny spots in between. It felt like we’d stepped back in time to the summer of ’69.
The small towns in South Australia really set the mood for Adelaide. Not big fans of major cities, we usually find only a few in the world that we’d want to return to. Yet, even with over 1.5 million people, Adelaide has a small-town feel that’s really appealing. It’s easy to walk around, with loads of markets and parks.
Of course, we couldn’t skip the botanical gardens and the central market. While I was hunting for Bulgarian summer savoury in the stalls at Adelaide Central Market, I thought I heard someone speaking Bulgarian. I couldn’t spot them, but it gave me an idea. Back at the campground, I posted in a Facebook group for Bulgarians in Melbourne to ask where I could find “чубрица”. That’s how we ended up getting invited to lunch with a Bulgarian lady named Daniela the next day. She made this incredible Bulgarian moussaka, and honestly, I think it was the best I’ve ever had. It was definitely the most appreciated meal!
Funny enough, during lunch, she got a call from her daughter checking in to see how she was doing with strangers in her home. You never know, we could’ve been serial killers preying on Bulgarian ladies in Australia! We all had a good laugh and parted ways as best buddies, leaving with two boxes of moussaka for later in our fridge.
In the afternoon, we took the ferry to Kangaroo Island and found the most amazing camping spot. Honestly, I was a bit hesitant to go to the island. After all, we had to take a ferry, devour all the honey at La Casita, and throw away all our potatoes—just for some animals? We’ve seen plenty of those so far. But Ivan convinced me, and I’m really glad I listened to him. I never imagined getting so close to koalas! Just a few meters from our camp, there was a little grove with a bunch of koalas chilling in the trees. It was unbelievable.
We spent a few days hiking around the island and checking out Finders Chase Park. One of the coolest spots was the Zebra Schist—this rock formation has awesome black-and-white stripes that really do look like a zebra. It’s not just eye-popping; it actually tells a bit about Earth’s history. Ivan totally loved it; way more than I did! I preferred the hike down toward the gorgeous blue ocean and wandering through the amazing stone formations, but going back up the hill? Not such a fan.
The weather didn’t really cooperate with our hike to Admirals Arch; it was cold and super windy. Can you believe it can actually be cold in Australia? But the Remarkable Rocks were just that—remarkable. Remember when I put Ivan in a rock hole back at Lincoln National Park? He got me back with some playful antics here!
No trip to Kangaroo Island is complete without seeing the famous Ligurian bees, which were brought over from Italy way back in 1884. Since the island is 13 kilometres off the coast, these bees have remained free of disease and crossbreeding, making the Kangaroo Island Ligurian Bee the purest of its kind left in the world.
On our way to Melbourne, we crossed the beautiful Murray River and had a wild camp next to Tailem Town. The next morning, with some fresh coffee, we explored Old Tailem Town, the biggest pioneer village in the Southern Hemisphere. There are over 100 buildings that really bring back the vibe of early settlers in South Australia—think railway carriages, trucks, cars, and all sorts of memorabilia! They even had a church dating back to the 1900s and an 1881 schoolhouse, among other cool stuff.
Our final stop in South Australia was Mount Gambier on the Limestone Coast, known for the underground Garden of Eden at Umpherston Sinkhole and tons of stunning blue lakes and sinkholes.
