ahhhh Cawndilla
Why do I love Lake Cawndilla? I’m so glad you asked.
Tucked away in the heart of Kinchega National Park in outback NSW, this lakeside campground is about as remote as it gets. No crowds, no noise—just pure, untouched wilderness. The closest hint of civilisation is Menindee, a tiny town 20 km down a dusty dirt road, home to about 1,000 souls. There is one notable exception, though—the local pub in Menindee is well worth a stop on the way to camp, their steak sanga alone is worth the trip!
But Lake Cawndilla... this place is a haven for waterbirds, a gathering point for countless species. I’m no bird expert, but I did recognise the pelicans. And let me tell you, they were everywhere—hundreds, maybe thousands—dotting the shoreline, soaring above, and drifting lazily across the lake. Emus and wallabies wandered through our campsite as casual visitors, as if we were simply neighbors. Armed with my trusty “noise” stick for long hikes, I was prepared for snakes, though I’m happy to report they kept their distance.
What captivates me most about Cawndilla is its rhythm, the constant dance between wet and dry that breathes life into this incredible wetland. Last year, after the rains, the lake was a magnet for all kinds of waterbirds. This year, with the waters lower, the flood plains exploded in a riot of color, covered with wildflowers.
As the sun sets, the magic really begins. The lake reflects every shade of sunset, glowing in a palette of fiery reds and deep purples. The air fills with the cries of waterbirds, and the eerie silhouettes of drowned trees—hundreds of them, maybe more—create an almost mystical scene.
Later, we settle by the campfire, a glass of red wine in hand, beneath a sky thick with stars. The sounds of the bush are our soundtrack, an untamed symphony that plays long into the night.
Lake Cawndilla isn’t just a place—it’s an experience. And every time I leave, I can’t wait to return.
ahhhh Cawndilla
Why do I love Lake Cawndilla? I’m so glad you asked.
Tucked away in the heart of Kinchega National Park in outback NSW, this lakeside campground is about as remote as it gets. No crowds, no noise—just pure, untouched wilderness. The closest hint of civilisation is Menindee, a tiny town 20 km down a dusty dirt road, home to about 1,000 souls. There is one notable exception, though—the local pub in Menindee is well worth a stop on the way to camp, their steak sanga alone is worth the trip!
But Lake Cawndilla... this place is a haven for waterbirds, a gathering point for countless species. I’m no bird expert, but I did recognise the pelicans. And let me tell you, they were everywhere—hundreds, maybe thousands—dotting the shoreline, soaring above, and drifting lazily across the lake. Emus and wallabies wandered through our campsite as casual visitors, as if we were simply neighbors. Armed with my trusty “noise” stick for long hikes, I was prepared for snakes, though I’m happy to report they kept their distance.
What captivates me most about Cawndilla is its rhythm, the constant dance between wet and dry that breathes life into this incredible wetland. Last year, after the rains, the lake was a magnet for all kinds of waterbirds. This year, with the waters lower, the flood plains exploded in a riot of color, covered with wildflowers.
As the sun sets, the magic really begins. The lake reflects every shade of sunset, glowing in a palette of fiery reds and deep purples. The air fills with the cries of waterbirds, and the eerie silhouettes of drowned trees—hundreds of them, maybe more—create an almost mystical scene.
Later, we settle by the campfire, a glass of red wine in hand, beneath a sky thick with stars. The sounds of the bush are our soundtrack, an untamed symphony that plays long into the night.
Lake Cawndilla isn’t just a place—it’s an experience. And every time I leave, I can’t wait to return.