On the way back we stop at Tin Hut Lagoon, a magical oasis in the dry and dusty scrub. The series of lagoons is studded with white water-lilies, which are considered by the Aborigines to be symbols of the morning star. Grazing in the long grass behind is a group of hump-backed Brahman cattle which, so far, has escaped mustering. It's pure visual poetry and a fitting end to our tour.
Five hours and 150km later, we slope back to our ranch. It all looks too clean, too minimalist, too perfect. At the long communal dining table, we are served a crisp South Australian Riesling to wash down the prawn mousse followed by myrtle-dusted barramundi fillet with shaved fennel and apple salad.
In front of us unfolds a spectacular view of the escarpment and the nothingness beyond. The coup de grace follows in the form of wattle-seed panacotta with poached quince. Meanwhile, back at the real cattle station, the jackaroos are lunching on roast beef and spuds.
With swimming verboten due to the surprise presence of a couple of sharks, the next best thing is the lap-pool. Beside it is a large banquette-edged area designed for sunset cocktails. Stretched out on my day-bed, I watch the sun dip across the river, the backlit clouds followed by splashes of pink and yellow. But I realize that for all the luxury, it's the straight-talking guides and the homespun Aussie touches that really make this five-star lodge somewhere special.
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