JOURNAL

In the South Australian outback, a former sheep ranch provides a heady combination of luxury, conservation, and adventure.

In the South Australian outback, a former sheep ranch provides a heady combination of luxury, conservation, and adventure.

I looked at the kangaroo, pleadingly. It looked back at me, smugly. All I wanted was one photo—just one picture!—of it bouncing across the ocher hills of the Flinders Ranges in South Australia, a classic outback shot that would no doubt ignite Instagram envy among my friends back home. But the marsupial had no intention of straying from the shelter of a gnarled gum tree. Kangaroos, it turns out, are not stupid. While mad dogs and this Englishman might go out in the midday sun, kangaroos don’t. They sensibly take refuge in whatever shade they can find, which is great for keeping themselves cool, but not so great for a photo op.

I was in the Flinders for a long weekend at Arkaba, a vast sheep ranch turned private nature conservancy whose 19th-century farmhouse (the Homestead) is now an upscale lodge with just five bedrooms, a pool, and gardens shared with emus and rose-breasted galah cockatoos. It’s a place where you can idle away a few days noshing on gourmet food, relaxing on the veranda with a book, or lying by the pool counting con- densation lines on your gin and tonic. But for those seeking a more active getaway, there are safari-style drives that explore the farther reaches of the 260-square-kilometer property, and guided hikes into the hills with nights slept out under the stars. Think of it as a journey to the middle of the middle of nowhere but with steak, sauvignon blanc, and air conditioning.

From the window seat of the chartered turboprop that flew me and three other guests in from Adelaide, the Flinders—a 400-kilometerlong range of rippling rock named after the English navigator Matthew Flinders, who circumnavigated Australia in 1802—appear barren and inhospitable. The landscape is predominantly brown, with the occasional line of trees flanking dried-up creek beds. Get closer, though, and even in this punishing environment, where nighttime temperatures in the summer remain in the 30s, you can see that life adapts, blossoms, and thrives. Sheep and cattle ranchers arrived on the scene in the mid 1800s, but for tens of thousands of years prior to European settlement, this region was inhabited by the indigenous Adnyamathanha people, as evinced by local rock shelters and cave paintings.

Amid this wilderness, Arkaba is literally an oasis. Dominated by an ancient line of red-rock bluffs aptly called the Elder Range, the property shares its northern border with Wilpena Pound, an enormous natural amphitheater of eroded hills. (According to Adnyamathanha tradition, the formation was created by two serpents that, after feasting on people who had gathered there for a ceremony, were so satiated they lay down

A hiker en route to the foothills of the Elder Range.

Above, from left: Outbackstyle room service at Arkaba’s revamped 19th-century farmhouse, the Homestead; inside one of the property’s five individually designed guest rooms, each of which opens onto a covered veranda.