South Australia's outback offers plenty to see for animal and nature lovers.

 

There are just two degrees of separation between me and Orlando Bloom. Even more remarkably, I discovered this fact on a remote cattle station in the South Australian outback after a day spent chasing emus.

Actually, if you want to see emus close up, don't chase them - get them to chase you. It's kind of satisfying that such a curious-looking bird, a feather duster on legs, should also be so curious. Instead of sneaking up on them, the thing to do is to whistle, wave and jump up and down to attract them. Apparently, if you lie on your back and pedal your legs in the air that will bring them right up close - although whether you'd want to find yourself in such a vulnerable position when surrounded by two-metre high birds with uncommonly powerful legs and hefty claws is another thing altogether.

Mini moas is what they look like, and that's what's so fascinating about Australia for Kiwis - all we have are birds, but the most resplendent, the moa, doesn't even exist any more. Across the Tasman the wildlife isn't just varied and bizarre, it's also wonderfully abundant. This isn't always a good thing from the New Zealand perspective, of course.

The thought of spending a couple of nights in a tent in the outback had me thinking of snakes, spiders and other nasties. But there are tents, and then there are Kangaluna Camp tents. These safari abodes sit on a raised platform with a solid roof, proper bathroom and rustic four-poster bed, and are fully sealed against uninvited visitors.

Born to be wild

Geoff Scholz of Gawler Ranges Wilderness Safaris picked me up in Port Lincoln, a short flight from Adelaide, and took me for a dazzling drive along the Eyre Peninsula. The view included soaring orange cliffs, sea lions and dolphins in the ocean, and neat little holiday villages where the noisiest things were the flocks of parakeets in the trees. After miles of straight road through open bush, we arrived at the Wilderness Safaris base. Nestling against the boundary of the Gawler National Park, the camp is both luxurious and eco-friendly. Judging by the criss-crossed tracks in the sand, the feathered and four-footed neighbours don't mind its presence at all.

We set off the next morning for an on and off-track exploration of the Ranges, and by morning tea I was a kangaroo expert. Grey, red, euro, wallaby - I could identify them all. They were everywhere - standing tall, lying comfortably in the grass, nibbling at foliage, scratching, grooming and leaping effortlessly across the track like something out of a Qantas ad. Everything I'd heard about them being nocturnal was totally discredited, to my absolute delight.

There were emus dashing about in sudden panic, legs going one way, long necks snaking the other and feathery bottoms flopping up and down in between. Flocks of raucous galahs swept overhead in a cloud of pink and grey, Port Lincoln parrots flashed green, blue and yellow as they darted through the trees and a sombre brown wedge-tailed eagle ripped into a dead fox. We didn't get to spot the hairy-nosed wombats, however, who were staying out of the wind in their burrows.

The salt lake near the camp had appeared quite dry when we arrived for our undowner, its white surface crunchy and crystalline, but when the wind dropped the shallow water that had been pushed to the far end of the lake began to creep back again. Accompanied by a faint crackling sound, a tiny wall of water scarcely two centimetres high swept steadily across the lake bed - a remarkable sight that almost distracted me from the glorious blaze of colour in the west.

Awesome landscapes

After dinner, the focus was once again on the sky when I was able to see the rings of Saturn in sharp detail through Geoff's computer-controlled telescope. It was impressive, but for celestial views it was impossible to beat simply sitting by the campfire, warmed by a shovelful of embers under my chair and leaning back to gaze up at the Milky Way, that river of silver across an inky black sky, undimmed by any artificial lights.

It was an age-old sight, and so was the landscape we drove through the next morning. The basin of stromatolite fossils dating back three billion years made the tumbles of volcanic rhyolite columns - a mere one and a half billion years old - seem almost new. The red rock, grey-green eucalypts, golden spinifex grass and cobalt blue sky held a timeless beauty.

When we got to Lake Gairdner, though, it was all about drama and spectacle. Ringed by purple hills, this pristine white salt lake - which is dry most of the year - is so huge it's used for attempting land-speed records. Cars and motorbikes hurtle along its smooth, flat surface to thrill the petrol-heads.

At the moment, though, the lake bed was being used for a different purpose. A fashion shoot was in progress, the stunning setting perfect for showing off the new styles from David Jones. We learned this when, after more bumping and lurching, we fetched up at Mt Ive. The cattle station, with its homestead, farm buildings, shearer's quarters and camp site, looked like a town after our days in the outback.

It was here, we discovered, that the fashion people were staying - and among them was model Miranda Kerr, Orlando Bloom's current squeeze. Joy, the Mt Ive landlady, told us that she had been woken that morning at 4.45 by Olly ringing from London to speak to Miranda and asking her to pass on his love.

How bizarre - a day of dusty distance, emus, vivid colours, ancient rocks and shining salt ending two degrees of separation from a Hollywood movie star. But the biggest surprise of all? That all this rugged Australian scenery and adventure turned out to be only a couple of hours' drive from Port Augusta's hotels and restaurants. You could call it outback lite.

By Pamela Wade

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