Where Are You Planning Your Winter Trip?
We didn’t set out with a strict plan to drive from Sydney to Alice Springs.
We just knew winter was coming, the coast would cool down, and the inland would be perfect. Clear skies. Mild days. Open roads.
So we loaded up the Sherwood 4×4 motorhome, pointed it west, and let the country unfold.
Leaving Sydney over the Blue Mountains always feels like a proper departure. The air sharpens, the valleys open up beneath you, and by the time you descend onto the plains, the pace of everything changes. Traffic thins out. Towns get smaller. The horizon starts stretching.
The first reminder that this trip would be different came at a simple lookout. Instead of grabbing takeaway and rushing on, we pulled in and made breakfast in our own kitchen. Steam rising off coffee while the valley dropped away in front of us. No timetable. No check-in time waiting.
That set the tone for the entire run west.
Rolling Into Hay
As the landscape flattened toward Hay, the sky seemed to take over. Western NSW in winter has a quiet confidence about it. Big paddocks. Long straight roads. Sunsets that linger.
We rolled into Hay late in the afternoon, dusty and ready to stretch our legs. Instead of hunting for a caravan park straight away, we pulled up right out the front of the local pub. One of the underrated advantages of travelling in a Sherwood is its size — compact enough to slip into a standard car space without drama, but still fully self-contained.
Engine off. Doors locked. Straight inside for a cold beer.
No circling for oversized parking.
No awkward overhang.
No “we’ll just park around the back.”
Just parked on the main street like any other vehicle.
After a quiet drink and a chat with a couple of locals, we rolled a few minutes out of town and found a peaceful place to settle in for the night. Within moments we’d shifted from driving to relaxing. Dinner was cooking while the last light faded across the plains.
That ease — being able to enjoy the town properly and then retreat to your own space — is something you don’t fully appreciate until you’ve travelled this way.
River Country – Mildura & Renmark
Crossing toward the Murray River changes the mood completely. After hours of open country, Mildura and Renmark feel almost lush. River gums line the water, vineyards break up the landscape, and the pace softens.
A stop at 23rd Street Distillery in Renmark turned into one of those afternoons that stretch longer than planned. A long lunch. A tasting paddle. No clock watching.
And that’s the quiet luxury of a motorhome. There was no stress about relocating. No packing up before dark. No arranging transport. Home was parked just outside the gate.
We stayed as long as we felt like it — then simply turned the key and moved on.
Burra – Stone, History and Space
Burra feels like stepping into another era. Old stone cottages, wide streets and a sense of space that matches the surrounding country.
We wandered through town, explored the historic buildings and then continued west when it felt right. Travelling this way removes the friction between places. You’re not “breaking camp.” You’re simply arriving, experiencing, and moving on.
The road feels fluid when your accommodation moves with you.
Flinders Ranges – Leaving the Highway
Rather than sticking strictly to sealed highways, we detoured toward the Flinders Ranges.
This is where the 4×4 capability stopped being theoretical.
Gravel replaced bitumen. Corrugations appeared. Tracks branched off toward lookouts and ridgelines that would make many travellers hesitate. Instead of turning around when the road surface changed, we simply engaged 4×4 and continued.
There’s confidence in knowing the vehicle beneath you is built for this country.
We took our time. Slowed down. Let the suspension do its job. The views from those detours were worth every bump.
You’re not limited to the main tourist route.
You explore properly.
Port Augusta – The Gateway North
Port Augusta really does feel like a turning point. Once you head north from here, the distances stretch and the country hardens.
Fuel stops matter more. Towns thin out. The sky somehow gets even bigger.
Long sections of highway pass easily when you’re comfortable. The Sherwood sits solidly on the road, and knowing you’re fully self-contained adds a layer of reassurance. Fridge stocked. Water tanks full. Solar quietly keeping everything topped up.
You’re not travelling between caravan parks.
You’re travelling independently.
Woomera & Glendambo – Real Outback
North of Port Augusta, through Woomera and past Glendambo, the scale of Australia becomes undeniable. Road trains in the distance. Emus along the roadside. Long ribbons of bitumen stretching toward heat shimmer.
And yet inside, it’s calm.
When we pulled over for breaks, lunch was ready in minutes. When we stopped for the night, we had a hot shower, a proper bed and a solid door between us and the desert air.
That balance — remote location, real comfort — is where a motorhome like this makes sense.
Coober Pedy – Where 4×4 Makes the Difference
Coober Pedy is unlike anywhere else. Underground homes. Opal fields. Dust hanging in the air.
But the real magic isn’t just in town. It’s beyond it.
The Breakaways Reserve.
Old mining tracks.
Unsealed roads cutting through dramatic, almost otherworldly formations.
This is where having a 4×4 motorhome changes the experience entirely.
Instead of looking at those tracks and wondering whether it’s worth the risk, we simply engaged 4×4 and went exploring. The Sherwood handled the corrugations without fuss, and before long we were parked in complete isolation, cooking lunch with nothing around us but red earth and silence.
No separate tow vehicle.
No leaving camp behind.
No compromise between comfort and capability.
Kitchen, fridge, bathroom, bed — all with us, wherever we chose to stop.
That’s not just convenience.
That’s freedom.
Arriving in Alice Springs
By the time the MacDonnell Ranges appeared on the horizon approaching Alice Springs, it felt less like arriving at a destination and more like completing a gradual transition into the centre of the country.
Winter in Alice is close to perfect. Cool mornings. Clear days. None of the extreme summer heat.
Looking back, what stood out wasn’t just the distance covered.
It was the ability to detour without hesitation. To park out the front of a pub in Hay like any other car. To linger over lunch in Renmark. To leave the bitumen at Coober Pedy and explore properly rather than just passing through.
Sydney to Alice Springs is a long drive.
Doing it in a capable 4×4 motorhome doesn’t just make it comfortable.
It makes it expansive.
So if you’re thinking about winter — about clear skies, red dirt and open highways — maybe the better question isn’t whether you should head inland.
It’s how far you’re willing to explore once you get there.
Where are you planning your winter trip?