Outside the plane window I watch as the red earth expands. The view is clear, there are no clouds. Squares of green vines and brown patches of flood plain gradually appear in between the red dirt.
It’s even redder than I remember.
I lean closer to the window, straining for the view. And at last there it is, a bulging brown snake, peeping in from the bottom of the window frame.
The mighty Murray River.
We step onto the hot tarmac beneath the bright blue sky, the sun’s heat baking my skin even though it’s just gone 5pm. I peel off my shirt and stuff it into my carry-on case before we have even entered the terminal, exposing my white shoulders to the late afternoon sun.
We cross the highway easily through a gap in semi-trailers hauling their load west to Adelaide. The outskirts of town seem the same at first, dark green vines stretched out like T-shirts on a washing line, but as we edge closer the once-empty blocks show signs of development. The steel of new housing estates decorate the red dirt.
Like the outskirts, the town centre is mostly familiar, with the addition of a few well-known staples – Aldi, Dan Murphy’s, Guzman & Gomez. I search the street for shops I used to visit, people I used to know. A sign for Ninth Street points the way to our former rental, and it seems like we should turn left. Instead, we continue straight towards the sneering riverside mansions of Mildura’s successful business-folk.
The river is full and healthy, almost bulging at the banks. Cheap holiday motels and the statue of a faded Egyptian pharaoh greet us as we cross the bridge into New South Wales. We follow the gums that line the river, playing sentry to houseboats of varying levels of grandeur, until we finally snake our way into the quiet suburb of my friend’s new home.
The cool morning air rises steadily as we drag ourselves out of bed. I open the blinds in the living room and regret it half an hour later as morning sun engulfs the front of the house, obscuring my view of the TV.
Dressed for summer, we climb into the family 4WD, whizzing past orange groves and vineyards at 100kmh. A faded sign signals the turnoff to Orange World. We keep driving, past a lone oncoming vehicle, the road ragged though hardy.
It’s almost like being nowhere.
Dareton has one street, a park with coloured plastic play equipment, and an indigenous health centre. We park in the near-empty carpark outside the Coomealla Sporting Club, the 4WD appearing almost abandoned as we lock it and wander idly away. The regular recreational gamblers and half-roast enthusiasts must wisely have taken the courtesy bus.
We take pictures in front of the club like tourists.
Kerri, the grey-haired welcoming lady, chatters away at us while we sign in with our drivers’ license. Words dribble from her mouth and I can’t quite follow what she is talking about. She was watching us from behind the desk while we posed for photos outside the club. My eyes examine three baskets of varying sizes filled with Red Tulip Easter eggs – prizes for the upcoming raffle competition. I make a note to buy a ticket on our way out.
The bistro area is large, the carpet new and colourful. Multiple TV screens advertise today’s lunch special: Ham Steak and Pineapple – $9. To the left I hear the unmistakeable tinkle of poker machines and sneak a peek over my shoulder. The view is predictable, a handful of wrinkled punters temporarily mesmerized by the colourful flashing lights.
We order coffee and cake from the display fridge; though we should be ordering mid-strength beer and a bowl of chips and gravy.
We select numbers for Keno using the stubby pencil and paper forms stacked squarely in the centre of our table. We pay $4 to play and win $2 back.
We drive back, clouds of red dust puffing up behind us from the road’s rugged edges.
In the evening, we sit on the patio and sip cool white wine as the temperature drops. Cockatoos and corellas screech across the post-sunset sky. For once, the mosquitoes ignore me, preferring the taste of locals instead.
Soon, we’ll be able to see the stars.
‘Sneering riverside mansions’. Love it!