MIDDLETON HOTEL and THE HILTON HOTEL RUINS

  Leaving Winton after a very relaxed couple of days we began our trek into the true Qld outback and headed along the Kennedy Development Road towards Boulia 360 kms to the NW. Typically, Development Roads are minor routes, usually narrow, single lane and most often constructed with bitumen.  As we travel in convoy, it is necessary to pull over and stop when a Road Train, Car or Caravan approaches from either direction,  since overtaking or passing other traffic is impossible most of the time. I must add however, that to come across another vehicle of any sort only happens three or four times per day at most.
  The mostly straight and at times gently undulating Kennedy traverses vast treeless plains of Mitchell grass, with it's green tinge that hints of a little rain in the recent past,  that extend to the horizon in all directions. Since the Coaster is slower than the other more modern vehicles in the group, I often find myself travelling as if alone, reflecting on the beauty of the outback scenery while I dodge road kill every few kms and marvel at the sight of huge eagles rising from their meal when startled by my approach.


  Conveniently, at almost exactly the half way point to Boulia, the welcome sight of Middleton or more correctly the Middleton Hotel decides for us where we will camp tonight. At first I could not fathom why anyone would contemplate building a Pub way out here, that is, until I discovered that it was originally a Cobb & Co coach stopping place. Even in the relative comfort of our modern vehicles this is a hot and sticky drive, I can't begin to imagine what it would be like in the summer heat travelling for days horse drawn.
  The Pub with all it's idiosyncratic character is as "outback" as one would ever find ( I have seen a few during my travels). Like the half dozen locals that had come from surrounding Stations for a beer and a chat who didn't acknowledge our intrusion on their turf;  like the tiny bar that didn't have any beer on tap and the adjoining dining room that doubled as the household lounge room, ( complete with a huge exercise machine that managed to block any clear view of the TV ) and it's solitary table with not quite enough chairs for everyone; like the lovable Val, the chatty Landlady and her hubby Les with the gravel voice and his almost incoherent Aussieness; like the son who musters cattle for a living with the one-man helicopter that was parked beside the Pub; like the dinner menu that consisted only of Corned Silverside and Veggies or Sausages, Eggs and Chips just for Billeeeeeee; like the petrol bowsers that looked as though from the 1930's, long since run dry; like the solar powered Telstra Phone Box way out on it's own in the paddock next door ( and it actually worked) and finally like the two trained Camels that Les used to pull the Cobb & Co coach.
  If all this wasn't as satisfyingly authentic as it could be, then our camp across the road beside the ruins of the original Hilton Hotel and an unusable Camp Kitchen added just a little more charm.
  I can speak for all in saying that a night at the Middleton Hotel should be on every travellers bucket list.  As the Convoy set out early next morning en route to Boulia via the Lillyvale Hills and Hamilton Channels, Val stood at the Pub threshold and waved all in turn goodbye with I am sure some gratitude for a respite to her undoubtedly lonely life.
  In summary; Just wonderful!  
(Click on a photo to enlarge)

The Middleton

The Hilton Hotel

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Moon Rock

Moon Rock

Petrified Wood as hard as any rock