Krista Schade and I, Kimberly Grabham, ventured to White Cliffs last week to introduce ourselves to the communities we write news about.

First stop was Ivanhoe, where we caught up with local shop owner Wendy Aves and enjoyed a ripper beef, cheese, and bacon pie with hot chocolate, the perfect fuel for country travel.

From there, we travelled to Wilcannia, where we marvelled at the picturesque historical buildings and had a phenomenal BLT at the cafe.

Walking up and down the street, chatting to the friendly locals, we came across many interesting people, including Shirley Evans from the Wilcannia newspaper. It is always wonderful to meet a fellow journalist doing important work in regional communities.

But it was our next destination that would truly take our breath away.

Intrepid travellers, author Kimberly Grabham, with Krista Schade (rear).

Driving into White Cliffs is like driving into another world; words just don't do it justice.

As we approached, two distinctive hills rose from the landscape, and as we drew closer, the most wonderful varied collection of houses emerged from underground dwellings.

It was one of the most distinctive places I'd ever seen.

Our first stop once we’d driven into town was Red Earth Opal, a family-run business thriving in this remote corner of the Australian outback.

Graeme Dowton has been living and mining in White Cliffs for over 30 years, and his love for opal mining inspired his wife Sacha to develop REO in 2008 to support their five children.

They’re proud to be the source of the world-renowned, extremely rare ‘White Cliffs Opal Pineapple.’

Together, Graeme and Sacha cut, polish, and design opal jewellery from rough opal directly from their family mine.

Their passion and commitment to their business, and to each other, inspire them not only to see the opal journey through from beginning to end, but to share its unique story with the final owner.

With over 30 years’ experience in opal mining, Graeme took us on an unforgettable journey through his working opal mine, 45 feet underground.

We walked down through multiple levels of old and new diggings, diving into the rich history of White Cliffs while learning about the hunt for these rainbow gems.

Graeme proved to be a consummate tour guide; funny, entertaining, weaving tales of mining life and anecdotes of big finds.

He painted an eloquent and insightful picture of mining in the early years, when dim candlelight was the only thing miners had to see with.

Often they worked in complete darkness, ears pricked for the telltale sound of hitting glass, which meant they’d come across the treasure they were seeking.

But it was Graeme’s more sobering tale that truly moved us; the story of over 500 children, infants, and people buried in the cemetery.

He told us how parents who came to mine faced the heartbreaking and awful choice to leave their children in White Cliffs when they couldn’t make the treacherous journey hundreds of kilometres to Wilcannia and Broken Hill.

When water became scarce and heat became impossibly scorching 50 degrees and above, other families in White Cliffs took these children in.

After hearing this story, we had to visit the cemetery.

Walking through White Cliffs, I met remarkable people like Hayley Atkins.

In the red dust and relentless heat, where most people see waste and hardship, this 43-year-old mother of four sees possibility.

She’s built an extraordinary life from fragments others discard, turning worthless opal chips into luxury soaps, animal fat into healing balms, and personal heartbreak into business success.

Her story reads like a masterclass in rural resilience and creative innovation, proving that sometimes the most unlikely ingredients can create something magical.

Then there’s Jacqui Portch, the woman behind the counter at White Cliffs’ only shop. At 53, she moves with quiet efficiency, her smile genuine as she serves customers who've become friends.

She radiates a contentment that comes from having weathered life’s worst storms and emerged not just intact, but flourishing.

Her journey to this remote corner of New South Wales reads like an epic spanning continents, languages, and lives lived and lost.

Jacqui’s story begins in the tobacco fields of Rhodesia (Zimbabwe), where her father’s farm stretched across rich red earth.

Her 1970s childhood was idyllic in the way that only hindsight can make clear; endless African skies, wildlife roaming freely, and the security of a life that seemed permanent and protected.

Eventually, Jacqui made her way to Australia, found second-time love with Steven Portch, and now lives happily in White Cliffs with him and his family.

The crew at the White Cliffs Hotel, including Taylor and Isa, were magical, friendly, and fun.

Completely welcoming, they taught me (prolifically terrible at all things sport) the fundamentals of playing pool.

The food, service, and hospitality were second to none.

By the end of the night, the young adults there were calling me ‘Mumma Kimbo,’ and they were genuinely polite, genuine, and welcoming; the kind of people who restore your faith in the younger generation.

The last thing Krista and I did after dinner and pool was go opal hunting.

Driving out into the mine fields, we were assured by locals that we were welcome to have a go.

Clutching a black light Krista had purchased earlier at Red Earth while we enjoyed a great lunch, we spent time trawling through the darkness, searching for that telltale glow that might reveal hidden treasure.

However, when I got spooked by people talking in a nearby camp, I swiftly ran faster than I’d ever run back to the car, much to Krista's amusement.

We got back to the hotel empty-handed, but determined to give it a more considered try next time.

Driving out of White Cliffs at 6am on Saturday morning, I was genuinely sad to be going home.

I felt as though we’d made a million new friends and glimpsed into a one-of-a-kind and amazing community.

I was touched by every single story I had been lucky enough to be told there, and it showed me that people come from far and wide, but all roads lead to White Cliffs.

The loving and caring community there all choose to be there, and would never want to live anywhere else.

White Cliffs is simply a place you’d never want to leave; a reminder that some of Australia’s most extraordinary stories unfold in the most unexpected corners of our vast continent.

Stay tuned for further stories from our visit