Broken Hill – A State of Mine

Damn!! Missed the Broken Heel Festival by two weeks. All those double entendres I just can’t use now. Oh well, just have to put THAT frock away till next year(lol). So, what’s left? Broken Hill reminds me of Kalgoorlie, the townscape dominated by a gigantic hole in the ground, tailings piled high against the blue sky, a couple of main streets and lots and lots of pubs. I ended up at at an impromptu caravan park at the Broken Hill racecourse just 5klm out of town. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here. After Kalgoorlie, I wasn’t expecting a lot. Unhitched the van and the sigh from the Jeep was audible.

Headed straight back into town, first stop, a watchmaker. Tamika had bought me a very handsome watch that I wore everywhere, but perhaps shouldn’t have. It suffered collateral damage on at least two occasions. After getting a replacement band in Perth, but needing a jeweller to install it, I put the watch in VERY safe place. Despite numerous searches over the next six months, that’s where it remained….until I got to Peterborough and an inadvertent grab of a small gift bag, concealed under some Christmas wrapping, ended my frustration and loss. It was a very poignant moment when I was able to put it back on the wrist….and a big smile on THIS dial.

After a quick perusal of the local tourist guide, I figured three days would see me out. Now, I know you would appreciate a little side of kulture on your blog plate so I made a beeline for the Pro Hart Gallery. Pro Hart, for the great unwashed, was a Broken Hill miner with a passion for art. He was huge from about the early 80’s until his death in 2006. The style is distinctive some would say unique focusing on nature and outback life.

The Gallery houses the studio where he did his work, as he left it. He also had a collection of Rolls Royce, a couple of which he took to with a brush and palette. Nice way to spend an hour. The next day was the out and about day. Silverton was the ultimate destination but first, a tour of a real silver mine, Day Dream mine.

I had no idea what to expect and wasn’t disappointed. To make a long back-story short, the mines were worked by Cornish immigrants who were, to put it genetically, somewhat vertically challenged. So, the shafts and passageways were of a height that I had little trouble negotiating, unlike many others on the tour. I confess, I did take some perverse pleasure whenever I heard one of the ‘talls’ smack their heads on the shaft ceilings. If only they WERE’NT wearing helmets.

The tour guide was incredibly informative, but his ‘quaint’ view on women would endanger his personal safety at a CWA meeting. Probably, one of those side effects of a ruralised world view. It certainly was a great experience to climb down into this world and hear the stories of discovery, hardship and death. Silicosis was almost guaranteed for these guys and the local cemetery at Silverton proved testament to this.

The tour was finished off with a tea and fresh baked scones. Back on the road, Silverton was only 15 minutes away. After checking out the cemetery, headed into town. Silverton looks very much like a movie set and trades very heavily on it’s connection to the Mad Max franchise. The setting for Mad Max 2 can be seen from the Mundi Mundi lookout just a tic out of town.

Apart from several art galleries and the hotel, Silverton its pretty much a static display of a by-gone era. Fascinating nevertheless. By now it was mid-afternoon and time to head back to town. A very interesting, fun day.

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