Birdsville, ‘The Bash’ and the Simpson Desert.

Birdsville is pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and yet every year it hosts a music festival in July and a racing carnival in September, both of which attract thousands from all over Australia. This is pretty impressive for a town that has a listed population of 120 and takes days to get to from anywhere in the civilised world.

Birdsville sits on the edge of the Simpson desert in the South West corner of Queensland. If you come into town from the east, the last 130k is dirt road and the state capital, Brisbane is almost 1,500ks away.

Coming from the south is worse. Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide are all between 1,000 and 1,500ks away and the last 500ks to town are up the Birdsville track which is 500ks of dirt, sand and stones (more on the stones later).

Coming from the west, the only option is to cross the Simpson Desert. No road as such, just a four wheel drive track that crosses over 1,000 sand dunes in just over 500ks. If you are heading west and want to get to Perth, keep going for another 2,000ks at the last sand dune.

And coming from the North isn’t much better. The next town with a population anywhere near 100 is over 300ks away, Alice Springs is just over 1,000ks if you take the short cut via more dirt roads and Darwin another 1,000 beyond that.

In short, it really is a long way from anywhere. We brought the kids here once a few years ago and they still shake their heads and wonder why. We have now been back twice since then, both times for the ‘Big Red Bash’ which is the music festival that is held at the base of ‘Big Red’, the 50 metre high sand dune that sits on the eastern edge of the desert.

On this trip we came into town via the Birdsville track which starts at Marree, which is also arguably pretty close to the middle of nowhere as the bitumen runs out about 100ks short of there too. This was after a little side trip of 100ks each way to see, and walk on, Lake Eyre. This is where Donald Campbell set the land speed record back in the 60’s in his jet propelled ‘Bluebird’. It is also the lowest part of Australia at 15m below sea level and is vast and pretty impressive. It is pretty cool to walk out onto the salt and see nothing but a huge expanse of dead flat whiteness as far as the eye can see.

The Birdsville track isn’t quite the challenge that it used to be, but it does still do its best to destroy windscreens, tyres and caravans whenever possible. Fifty years or so ago it still took almost a couple of weeks to drive from Marree to Birdsville but these days you can drive it in a day or two. We weren’t in a rush so we did it with a couple of overnight camps along the way, and the only damage sustained was a stone smashing a pipe coming out of the water tank under the van. Didn’t notice it until we set up camp and found we had no water! Nothing a bit of glue and tape couldn’t fix though and fortunately we camped at a place that had water to refill the tank with. In fact one of our stops was by a bore where water from the Great Artesian Basin comes out hot enough for a nice relaxing spa in the thoughtfully provided plastic pool, and afterwards for a hot shower in the equally thoughtfully provided tin shed.

As mentioned previously, Birdsville sits in the South West corner of Queensland, very close to where Queensland, South Australia and the Northern Territory all meet at Poeppel corner. Now visiting Poeppel corner has been on my bucket list for a while now after getting to know a bit more about it on my previous Birdsville visits. Only problem is it lies 170ks west of Birdsville which, if you have been paying attention, will realise is somewhere in the middle of the desert. In fact, 150 sand dunes in to be precise. So this time we came prepared for a trip into the desert before the Bash started. Even with a two way radio, Emergency locator beacon, plenty of spare water, food and fuel though, there is still a slight concern that things could go wrong. Even the best RACQ cover isn’t going to help out there and vehicle recovery is very expensive. Clutch failure would be extremely awkward.

Needless to say, as I am able to write this we survived. Our Mitsubishi Challenger ate up those dunes there and back with relative ease. There were a couple of particularly soft and steep ones that I had to have a second go at to get over, but nothing too drastic.

What can I tell you about the desert itself, other than if you ever get the chance you really night to spend a night out there to get it. It is awesome. The sky, the sunset, the stars and the sense of isolation is just ‘wow’. We didn’t actually see any dingos or camels out there but we did see plenty of evidence of them in terms of foot prints. Probably glad not to see any dingos once we were camped but I would have loved to have seen a camel or two.

Now as I write this I am camped up at the Big Red Bash. From where I sit I can see kids sand surfing down the dune and can hear music drifting over from the main stage which is only about 100 metres away. The Bash is billed as the most remote music festival on the planet and it would certainly be hard to argue with that. It is much like any other music festival in many mays but the uniqueness of a big red sand dune as the back drop to the main stage and the fact that everyone here has a tale to tell of their travels makes it something special. There is nothing quite like a desert sunset and watching a band as the sun sets and lights up the red sand setting the horizon alight with a deep orange glow makes it even more special. And then there are the stars, not the ones on the stage, but the ones that fill the clear and unpolluted night sky. Just awesome.

The camaraderie around the campfire is also pretty cool. We have our own little campfire group where fellow campers drop in and out throughout the evening between events or at the end of the night to share tales, drinks, food and even one camper who is making scarves and hats for anyone who wants one. Yesterday they found out that I am a chef so I was nominated to make morning tea. Lemonade scones provided by me and homemade jam from one of the other campers.

Today is last day of the festival and I need to get myself together to get over and see the Black Sorrows shortly. Rather fitting after getting up at 3.30am to watch England getting eliminated from the World Cup. Tomorrow, us and a few thousand other fellow festival goers will be heading up to Bedourie for the camel races. After that we should once again escape the crowds until we reach Alice Springs.