The Yaraka Hotel, for lovers of the Australian outback, its pubs, its myths and its poems.
(If you enjoy this yarn, please think about hitting the 'subscribe' button. It's free and you'll get two stories each week about the great pubs of the Australian bush.) I’m in Barcaldine and ring Chris the publican at the Yaraka Hotel. It’s pumping down rain and the police are saying both roads in are impassable for anything other than powerful 4WD’s and that the bike won’t make it through. I was hoping to be there in the morning, but there’s no utes for hire in Barcy or Isisford or down at Blackall so there’s a problem. “ Stay where you are and I’ll ring you back within the half hour .” I ask Noeline at the Railway for another lite and she’s hardly handed it over when my phone rings. “ If you can get yourself to Isisford early tomorrow morning, I can get you a lift. Ken’s the publican at the Golden West hotel and his son’s been wanting to take a trip down here for a while and he’s free tomorrow.” I leave the beer untouched and head for the door....