The vibe here is understandably peculiar. Think about it for a moment: What kind of person does it take to uproot his or her life and move halfway across the world to a near-barren desert that is 95 miles from the nearest anything (and even that's just a pub) with hopes of maybe striking it rich? Quite a character, that's what kind. The folks here worship in underground churches like the Catholic or Serbian Orthodox ones in town and play golf on one of the world's only bare-earth courses (greens are made from a mix of dirt and motor oil). Incidentally, the Opal Fields Golf Club is the only course in the world with reciprocal rights at St. Andrews. How's that for strange?

Everyone here is a miner, an ex-miner, or the son, daughter, or wife of a miner, and every single one of them has a story to tell. "Not to sound blasé about it or anything, but Coober Pedy is one of the few places left on earth where you can go to work broke and come home a millionaire," says ex-miner and tour guide Peter Rowe, one of a gaggle of characters I meet during my stay in Coober Pedy. "I reckon there is as much opal still in the ground as has been brought up."

It's exactly this mentality that fuels the opal game. Many, many people have struck it rich here (tales of $600,000 opal finds are routine), but just as many have gone broke too. It's a bit like gambling: Those who walk away win, but it's very, very hard to walk away from Coober Pedy. Since 1915, it's estimated that nearly $8 billion worth of opal has been found here, with no end in sight - about 85 percent of the world's opal is mined here in Coober Pedy and in nearby Andamooka and Mintabie. When someone hits pay dirt, they generally sink the money back into bigger and better machinery and then never find opal again (anyone who's spent time at a roulette wheel in Las Vegas knows the feeling).