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Yeah, I know, it’s not original, Chris Rea did it in the 80’s, but it’s true, we are driving home for Christmas, and a wedding and a graduation too.

Australia is pretty big, it’s not until you try to drive across it as quickly as possible that you realise just how big it is. We left Esperance in WA five days ago to start heading back to the East Coast and we are still only as far as outback New South Wales. OK, so we haven’t exactly driven non stop, but today was a 700k day, yesterday 600ks, and the three previous days over 500ks each. That’s getting on for 3,000 and we aren’t there yet. In fact still another couple of days driving to go at least.

We have certainly covered a lot more k’s than that on the whole trip, in fact we are up to over 30,000ks now, but that has all been at a fairly steady pace with not many days over 500ks and rarely a week with 1,000. This week though is going to end up being over 4,000.

So, what else have I learnt since my last blog post? Well, the most boring highway in Australia is the Eyre Highway, all 1,670ks of it from Norseman to Port Augusta. There are a few tracks off to go and see cool views of cliffs and sand dunes along the Bight, but essentially, although crossing the Nullarbor is a bit of an iconic Australian adventure, it is pretty boring in reality. We did meet a man who was driving a Tesla (electric car) around Australia. That was pretty cool.

I have learnt a bit of history too, I love history, it’s nearly as cool as science. I think many people have this idea that Australia was ‘discovered’ by Captain Cook in 1770, and the the first European settlement occurred with the first fleet in 1788. Both of these facts are of course incorrect.

The ‘discovery’ and settlement of Australia occurred around 60,000 years ago and the original inhabitants had a far more advanced understanding of the land and how to mange and get the best out of it than we do today. As for European discovery and settlement, well this happened long before Cook was even born. By the early 1600’s the Dutch were sailing up the West coast on a regular basis on their way to Batavia (Jakarta). The first recorded European landing was by Dirk Hartog in 1616. In fact by the time Cook arrived on the east coast the whole west coast had been so accurately charted that these early maps were essentially still in use into the 20th century. Also interesting to note that the WA coast is littered with Dutch shipwrecks and many place names come from Dutch (and French) ships and explorers.

Two of the most interesting are the Batavia and the Zuytdorp.

The Batavia was wrecked on the Abrolhos islands off the coast of Kalbarri in 1629 and apart from being a fascinating tale of mutiny, murder, slavery and survival it also provided Australia with its first two European residents who were marooned on the mainland rather than executed with their fellow mutineers because of their young age. That is over 150 years before the first fleet arrived.

Then in 1712 The Zuytdorp was wrecked on the mainland a little further north. Nothing was known of the fate of the Zuytdorp and its passengers and crew until the wreck and evidence of the survivors was found in 20th century. The cliffs where the ship was wrecked now bear its name. At the top of the cliffs and further inland artefacts from the Zuytdorp have been discovered and the evidence would suggest that the survivors were taken in by the local aboriginal inhabitants, making them the second wave of European settlers. As further evidence of this settlement later European explorers in this area noted with surprise that some of the local aboriginal people had blue eyes, and more recent DNA testing shows evidence of Dutch and German decent in the indigenous population.

Ok, enough of the history lesson, this is supposed to be a travel blog after all.

After extensive research in the Margaret River region of WA I have learnt that their Shiraz is not as good as that from the Barossa but that their Cabernet Sauvignon is better. This was after a number of days of sampling across numerous wineries. We took to our bikes for one of these days of sampling and I can thoroughly recommend this as a very enjoyable day out when in Margaret River.

The South West corner of WA does also have plenty more on other than just wine tasting. It is in fact stunningly beautiful with amazing beaches and national parks, but, for a Queenslander it could perhaps do with being a few degrees warmer before I would consider venturing into the water.

I can also confirm that WA is the most safety conscious state in Australia. There are warning signs for just about everything!

But despite this you can still climb a 160 metre high tree in Pemberton that has no real safety barriers or fall protection other that a little bit of chicken wire that probably wouldn’t even stop a chicken.

And finally, we are nearing the end of the Australian leg of our adventure, and in the 7 months that we have been on the road I have never felt concerned for my safety (apart from when wine tasting on a pushbike) or concerned about theft…….until Fremantle that is. 100 campsites with the van left unlocked and possessions left outside, and nothing went missing. One week in Fremantle with the van locked up outside our friends house and it gets broken into and the tv nicked! And on the same day the pump nicked off my push bike! Dodgy place Freo. Apart from that, it is actually a really lovely place and it was really great to catch up with and spend some time with old school mates Alex and Pat and their lovely wives, Justine and Margaret.

Phillipines here we come.

So, after five months on the road am I ready to return to the real world yet? Well, the short answer is no, but I will give you the long answer otherwise there isn’t really much point to this blog entry is there?

Ok, so every once in a while it might be a little longer between hot showers than I would like, and sometimes it might be nice to have a little more space to move around in. Would I trade that for living to a daily schedule, going to meetings and having the general stress of going to a place of employment? Nope, not ready yet (the money would be nice though. Still haven’t found anyone willing to sponsor me to become a professional traveller). And anyway I can always have a cold shower or a swim and as for space, well, Australia is pretty big, and most of it is pretty empty.

Travel is supposed to be a great learning experience, so what have I learnt so far? Well for starters, I have learnt to live with less ‘stuff’ and actually feel that I could get rid of half of what we still have and still be fine with it. I have also learnt to break the attachment with my phone/technology and life is so much better for that. Most days I am not even sure where it is which is actually very liberating.

I have learnt how to fix most things on a Jayco Swift and a Mitsubishi Challenger with a bit of tape, glue and a couple of screws! I have even changed all the brake pads on the Mitsi (too hard to book in to a garage when you are on the move, and saved about $500).

I have also learnt that people are generally pretty nice and very helpful. We have met some pretty cool people on our travels, exchanged contact details with quite a a few, and so far have invitations to stay in various locations around Australia and overseas. We have shared many a tale of travels around a campfire or over a beer and sampled a few dampers and shared a few of ours. We have even played the occasional game of Qwerkle.

The best thing though is the way fellow travellers are willing to help each other out when there is a problem. Yesterday I was wiring a little fan into the back of the fridge and the guy camped next to us (Pat from Perth), came over with a soldering iron and a couple of beers and helped me do the job. What a legend.

When we were in Millstream National Park the bracket that holds Lucy’s spare wheel on broke. I was chatting to the camp host and asked on the off chance if he had any welding equipment. Well, turned out that over at the park rangers headquarters there was a whole workshop. However, due to workplace health and safety I wouldn’t be able to use it…..but they could, so the camp host and a couple of rangers fixed it for me.

When the corrugations shook Lucy’s cabinets apart a fellow camper gave me his bucket of screws and said ‘use what you need’ and also offered me the use of his electric screwdriver (got my own one of those though).

Every puncture has been accompanied by fellow travellers stopping to lend a hand.

In short, people are lovely, especially when you take them away from their work stresses and out of the busy cities, and if there is no phone service, then even better because people learn how to talk to each other again without all the distractions.

Ali has been keeping a few stats on our trip so I will share a few here as some are pretty interesting:

Kilometres driven – 21,581 (and still going)

Set ups/pack downs – 81

Most expensive coffee – $6.00. (Greenock in The Barossa SA. The wine tasting was free though).

Longest between food shopping – 4 weeks (Port Augusta to Alice Springs).

Longest stretch without a fuel stop – 861ks (across the Tanami with a side trip to Wolfe Creek).

Rainy days – 5

Most expensive camp site – $45 (El Questro WA).

Cheapest camp site -well we have had plenty of free ones, but the cheapest we have actually had to pay for was Keep River National Park, NT at $6.60

Nights not spent in Lucy – 9, two in a tent and seven at a house sit.

Times I have wanted to throw things at Ali – well, annoying as she can be, actually none really, apart from perhaps the time she woke me up in the middle of the night because the possums/Roos/dingos etc. freaked her out. I think I will keep her as my travelling companion.

Times I have thought ‘I wish I was at work’ – 0.

So, final words of wisdom….take some time off and hit the road for a little while if you can, it’s good for the soul and it helps to put life into perspective a bit. We have been living on around $700 per week all up but there are some out there doing it for less, so it doesn’t need to cost your life savings. Just do it (I think that slogan belongs to someone else…hope I don’t get sued……they will have to find me first).

Having spent the past few weeks in the Kimberly, I can safely say that it is one of the most beautiful parts of Australia and is well worth a visit if you ever have the opportunity.

Although we did spend a bit of time here in 91, we really only experienced the area around Kununurra and Lake Argyle, but this time around although we have spent less time here we have ventured over a larger geographical area.

The scenery is absolutely stunning, Aboriginal culture seems to be alive and well, plenty of wildlife, the Boab trees are very impressive and as long as you are careful to avoid the crocodiles there are plenty of swimming holes to enjoy in the numerous gorges that are the centrepiece of the Kimberly.

The ranger in Keep River National Park (which technically isn’t in the Kimberly as it is just over the border in the Northern Territory) told me that once upon a time the Kimberly was not part of the Australian mainland and actually sits on its own tectonic plate or something. I haven’t checked this fact yet so it may not be true, but it would certainly make sense if it is. Some of the rock formations and gorges are quite unlike anything else in Australia.

Take the formations in the Bungle Bungle range for example. These beehive looking formations are pretty cool to say the least. And then there is the Devonian reef at Winjana gorge and Tunnel Creek. Once a coral reef under a tropical sea it now towers a hundred metres above the surrounding plain with a croc filled river running through the middle of it. It is just stunning to see.

On the subject of crocs, the Kimberly certainly has its fair share of those. Fortunately most of the waterholes that are cool, clear and inviting for a swim are only inhabited by freshwater crocs. Freshies are pretty placid and non threatening things that have no interest in eating people, and are generally happy to share their waterhole with you as long as you leave them alone.

Saltwater crocs on the other hand are not to be messed with. Salties would like nothing more than to eat you for dinner, so if there is even a slight chance that a saltie might be around then swimming, or even getting too close to the waters edge is off the agenda.

There seems to also be some extremely good examples of ancient Aboriginal rock art in the Kimberly. The age of some is these is mind blowing and the fact that you can just walk right up to them (no fences, barriers, entry fees). Some of the artwork is dated at more than 20,000 years old. Pretty sure that anything of that sort of age elsewhere in the world in under lock and key.

One of the most interesting paintings that seems to appear all over the Kimberly is the Wandjina. These spirit beings started appearing around 4,000 years ago and were apparently repainted over the top of the original every decade or so. The Wandjina are painted with a round white face, big round eyes, what appears to be a halo or helmet of some kind and a nose but no mouth. The story that goes with them is that they came down from the sky and shaped the land and the rivers and looked after the people. Apparently they realised this was a pretty big job so they sent for reinforcements and more of them arrived later. When they left, some went back into the sky and some went into the earth and live at the source of natural springs.

I have to say though, that the roads (if you can call them roads) in this part of the world are pretty poor to say the least. I guess that is part of the appeal though and it is part of what keeps this region remote as without a four wheel drive you really are not going to get very far. But, I am a bit over dust and corrugations now. The Kimberly roads have given us three punctures, a cracked windscreen, one cabinet rebuild in Lucy (our little camper) numerous loose screws, nuts and bolts and five fridge explosions. Not the actual fridge exploding but the contents making a bit for freedom and ending up all over the floor. We have had scrambled eggs, yoghurt, salad dressing and sun dried tomatoes in oil decorating the inside of the van.

Just recently though, we have hit the coast and we are currently camped in a little slice of paradise (over 100ks on sand tracks and one fridge explosion to get here though). Now, living in South East Queensland we are pretty spoiled when it comes to beaches, but I have to say that what we have found here on the Dampier Peninsula north of Broome are as good as Queensland, unless you are a serious surfer that is. And there is always the concern that there could be a random croc swimming by even though the locals (this is all Aboriginal land) assure us that there are none around. Actually what the guy at our current camping spot said was ‘no crocs or stingers…..but don’t let your guard down though’. Still, I have had a swim everyday and I am not writing this from the belly of a saltie.

Our current camping spot really deserves a mention as it really is pretty special. We are at a little place called Middle Lagoon which is on extremely well managed Aboriginal land. There are toilets and hot showers (bonus) and we have a camping spot overlooking a beautiful lagoon. We are shaded by coconut laden palms and our own little beach shelter where we can sit and watch the whales swim by during the day and sit by the camp fire and wonder at the stars at night.

Twenty seven years ago when I first arrived in Australia, I bought an old Ford Falcon station wagon off a backpacker in a pub in Brisbane for $500.00. In our trusty wagon we got three quarters of the way round Oz before it died somewhere near Broome in WA. We then bought a Ford Falcon sedan off another backpacker in Kununurra where we worked for three months, which then completed our figure of eight (up the east coast, up the west coast and down the middle twice). On that trip we saw a lot of the country but we mostly stuck to the bitumen and there is a lot of Australia that you can only get to by heading off the bitumen.

So, for this trip then, getting off the beaten track was most definitely on the agenda, and in fact I wanted to tackle some of those iconic dirt roads not just because of where they go to but just because they are there.

So far on this trip along with hundreds of k’s on non specific gravel roads we have ticked three major ones off the bucket list and lived to tell the tale, and still have at least one on the agenda to do in the next few weeks.

I have already written about the Birdsville track but since then we have ‘conquered’ the Plenty Highway and the Tanami Track and next week we will be heading out onto the Gibb River Road through the heart of the Kimberly.

The Plenty Highway actually starts off as the Donahue Highway at Boulia in Queensland but changes its name when it crosses the Border into the Northern Territory. It skirts around the edge of the Simpson Desert and comes out 800ks later on the Stuart Highway just a few k’s north of Alice Springs.

The thing about these long stretches of dirt road is that the conditions can vary so much and change so quickly that the only way to really get an idea of what you are in for is talk to someone who has just driven it. You can research online or hear about what it was like a week ago, but if there has been rain, lots of traffic using the road or if the graders have been through in the past few days then things can change dramatically.

So, all the information that we gathered about the Plenty Highway beforehand was bad. We were told about terrible corrugations, pot holes, washouts, bull dust. In short it was apparently in appalling condition and best avoided. When I asked at the information centre in Boulia I was told that there had been three caravan rollovers that week but if you ‘drive to the conditions’ you should make it across OK.

Still in two minds but really wanting to avoid going the long way round to Alice (about double the distance on the bitumen), we got chatting to another couple in the Boulia caravan park who had the same dilemma as us and we decided to go in convoy so we could help each other out if we had any dramas.

For the first couple of hundred kms I was wondering what all the fuss was about. There were actually long stretches of bitumen and the gravel sections were well formed and mostly corrugation free. But then we hit the NT border. There was actually a fuel stop at a cattle station on the border and as we filled up I asked the lady there about road conditions. She smiled knowingly and said ‘you won’t be driving at the same speed as you were in Queensland’.

The corrugations were so bad it feels like your fillings are going to come loose along with all the nuts and bolts holding the car together. And poor Lucy (our little campervan) being bounced along behind us. Then we got to the bull dust and soft sand bits. So much dust in the air you can’t see a thing when there are any other vehicles around and the main problem with the bull dust is the big suspension wrecking and tyre shredding potholes that it hides.

Ali was trying to keep a count of shredded tyres by the roadside but gave up after a while. There were also three very recently abandoned camper trailers and quite a few cars that didn’t make it and have been abandoned over the years. There was in fact one pretty recent looking Juicy rental left on the side of the road that looked like it had rolled. I bet that was an expensive experience for the hirer.

When we camped up at the end of day one Lucy was full of dust but other than that, nothing was out of place. Got to hand it to Jayco (not sponsored), they do know how to make a tough off road camper, poor little Lucy has taken a beating and is still in one piece. Our fellow travelling companions didn’t fair quite so well and suffered a broken microwave and broken tv mount (serves them right for having a microwave and a mounted tv I say).

Day two was more of the same until we hit the bitumen again and shook out some of the dust. I assume that the Plenty Highway is so called as it loosely follows the Plenty River (river!, that’s a laugh, not much water in that part of the world), but we decided it is so called because there are plenty of corrugations, shredded tyres, abandoned vehicles etc.

After a bit of a respite in Alice and surrounding area, we then set off across the Tanami track which is a shortcut from Alice to the Kimberly in Western Australia (if you can call 1,050ks a short cut). The Tanami crosses the desert of the same name and is extremely remote with the longest distance between fuel stops being over 700ks.

This time all the research suggested that the road was in reasonably good condition with just a few heavily corrugated sections. In fact the first 200ks or so was bitumen. We had a leisurely first day and camped at Tilmouth Well before we hit the dirt.

Next morning we set off again and within a few ks spotted a feral camel just strolling along by the side of the road. This made Ali’s day as she has been hanging out to see some wild camels. A few kms later we spotted three more, but they were distinctly dead and a little bit smelly (come to think of it, the live one was a bit smelly too.

Our next stop was to top up the the tank in a small Aboriginal community called Yuendumu. We were already carrying three full 20lt jerry cans of diesel but we needed to be able to cover just over 800ks before the next fuel stop to allow for a side trip to Wolfe Creek.

Driving into Yuendumu was a bit of an experience in itself. I can’t quite get my head around why an Aboriginal community in a modern and wealthy first world country looks more like a village in a third world country. It really was like entering a foreign country within Australia. Run down buildings, stray dogs and litter strewn streets. You need a permit to do anything more than drive in and refuel and drive back out again, and these communities are all ‘dry’ as in no alcohol permitted and there are fines for bringing any in.

Back on the road again and the corrugations were real bone shakers, until we saw three graders coming our way. That made my day as for the next 100 ks or so the road was smooth and beautiful to drive on.

Obviously the Tanami is a desert, so it is pretty remote, not much traffic, dry and flat. Despite that we did manage to find a hill to camp behind for our second night. Bizarrely enough it turned out that we were actually camped near a mining operation and so although it felt like we were alone in the middle of nowhere we actually had phone service and an internet connection. A bit weird being in the desert and being able to check your Facebook.

Our little campsite also had a resident dingo who was actually pretty cute and friendly. In fact when we left in the morning he followed us all the way down to the road to see us off on our way.

Our third night was spent at Wolfe Creek Meteorite crater. This is an amazing place, the site of a meteor impact a few million years ago, but most famous probably (sadly) for the movie of the same name.

The road into Wolfe Creek was probably the most heavily corrugated we had encountered up to that point, but as it was only 25ks on the main track we persevered and it was well worth the effort.

The very last 100ks or so before getting back on the bitumen at Halls Creek was by far the worst though. This was rocky, corrugated and just plain horrible. We got our first puncture just about 30ks short of getting back on the bitumen. I had actually invested in a puncture repair kit and a decent compressor for this trip so instead of jacking up the car and using the spare I actually had a go at plugging the hole in the tire. It just so happened that this was inspired by a guy who was there just at the right time to help. This fella had just come up the Canning stock route (more remote than anything we have done so far) and had a few punctures so he was experienced at dealing with them. So, with his guidance I fixed my first puncture and we were back on our way in less than half an hour.

We finally rolled into Halls Creek with diesel to spare and looking forward to a few days rest before our next adventure.

Birdsville is pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and yet every year it hosts a music festival in July and a racing carnival in September, both of which attract thousands from all over Australia. This is pretty impressive for a town that has a listed population of 120 and takes days to get to from anywhere in the civilised world.

Birdsville sits on the edge of the Simpson desert in the South West corner of Queensland. If you come into town from the east, the last 130k is dirt road and the state capital, Brisbane is almost 1,500ks away.

Coming from the south is worse. Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide are all between 1,000 and 1,500ks away and the last 500ks to town are up the Birdsville track which is 500ks of dirt, sand and stones (more on the stones later).

Coming from the west, the only option is to cross the Simpson Desert. No road as such, just a four wheel drive track that crosses over 1,000 sand dunes in just over 500ks. If you are heading west and want to get to Perth, keep going for another 2,000ks at the last sand dune.

And coming from the North isn’t much better. The next town with a population anywhere near 100 is over 300ks away, Alice Springs is just over 1,000ks if you take the short cut via more dirt roads and Darwin another 1,000 beyond that.

In short, it really is a long way from anywhere. We brought the kids here once a few years ago and they still shake their heads and wonder why. We have now been back twice since then, both times for the ‘Big Red Bash’ which is the music festival that is held at the base of ‘Big Red’, the 50 metre high sand dune that sits on the eastern edge of the desert.

On this trip we came into town via the Birdsville track which starts at Marree, which is also arguably pretty close to the middle of nowhere as the bitumen runs out about 100ks short of there too. This was after a little side trip of 100ks each way to see, and walk on, Lake Eyre. This is where Donald Campbell set the land speed record back in the 60’s in his jet propelled ‘Bluebird’. It is also the lowest part of Australia at 15m below sea level and is vast and pretty impressive. It is pretty cool to walk out onto the salt and see nothing but a huge expanse of dead flat whiteness as far as the eye can see.

The Birdsville track isn’t quite the challenge that it used to be, but it does still do its best to destroy windscreens, tyres and caravans whenever possible. Fifty years or so ago it still took almost a couple of weeks to drive from Marree to Birdsville but these days you can drive it in a day or two. We weren’t in a rush so we did it with a couple of overnight camps along the way, and the only damage sustained was a stone smashing a pipe coming out of the water tank under the van. Didn’t notice it until we set up camp and found we had no water! Nothing a bit of glue and tape couldn’t fix though and fortunately we camped at a place that had water to refill the tank with. In fact one of our stops was by a bore where water from the Great Artesian Basin comes out hot enough for a nice relaxing spa in the thoughtfully provided plastic pool, and afterwards for a hot shower in the equally thoughtfully provided tin shed.

As mentioned previously, Birdsville sits in the South West corner of Queensland, very close to where Queensland, South Australia and the Northern Territory all meet at Poeppel corner. Now visiting Poeppel corner has been on my bucket list for a while now after getting to know a bit more about it on my previous Birdsville visits. Only problem is it lies 170ks west of Birdsville which, if you have been paying attention, will realise is somewhere in the middle of the desert. In fact, 150 sand dunes in to be precise. So this time we came prepared for a trip into the desert before the Bash started. Even with a two way radio, Emergency locator beacon, plenty of spare water, food and fuel though, there is still a slight concern that things could go wrong. Even the best RACQ cover isn’t going to help out there and vehicle recovery is very expensive. Clutch failure would be extremely awkward.

Needless to say, as I am able to write this we survived. Our Mitsubishi Challenger ate up those dunes there and back with relative ease. There were a couple of particularly soft and steep ones that I had to have a second go at to get over, but nothing too drastic.

What can I tell you about the desert itself, other than if you ever get the chance you really night to spend a night out there to get it. It is awesome. The sky, the sunset, the stars and the sense of isolation is just ‘wow’. We didn’t actually see any dingos or camels out there but we did see plenty of evidence of them in terms of foot prints. Probably glad not to see any dingos once we were camped but I would have loved to have seen a camel or two.

Now as I write this I am camped up at the Big Red Bash. From where I sit I can see kids sand surfing down the dune and can hear music drifting over from the main stage which is only about 100 metres away. The Bash is billed as the most remote music festival on the planet and it would certainly be hard to argue with that. It is much like any other music festival in many mays but the uniqueness of a big red sand dune as the back drop to the main stage and the fact that everyone here has a tale to tell of their travels makes it something special. There is nothing quite like a desert sunset and watching a band as the sun sets and lights up the red sand setting the horizon alight with a deep orange glow makes it even more special. And then there are the stars, not the ones on the stage, but the ones that fill the clear and unpolluted night sky. Just awesome.

The camaraderie around the campfire is also pretty cool. We have our own little campfire group where fellow campers drop in and out throughout the evening between events or at the end of the night to share tales, drinks, food and even one camper who is making scarves and hats for anyone who wants one. Yesterday they found out that I am a chef so I was nominated to make morning tea. Lemonade scones provided by me and homemade jam from one of the other campers.

Today is last day of the festival and I need to get myself together to get over and see the Black Sorrows shortly. Rather fitting after getting up at 3.30am to watch England getting eliminated from the World Cup. Tomorrow, us and a few thousand other fellow festival goers will be heading up to Bedourie for the camel races. After that we should once again escape the crowds until we reach Alice Springs.

Things break down. No matter how prepared and well maintained it is, sometimes things just happen. And what makes it worse is that only the day before it happened Ali expressed a concern about breaking down in the middle of nowhere, and my response was something like, ‘it’s a two year old diesel that has been serviced regularly, it will go on forever’. Needless to say I am being reminded of that at least three times a day and I am quite sure that I will be reminded of it on a regular basis for the rest of my life.

So, what happened? Well, to start with, we were descending a fairly steep hill coming out of the southern Flinders Ranges heading for Port Augusta when I realised that we had no brakes on the caravan.

Fortunately this turned out to be a loose wire in the trailer plug. Fifteen minutes and a bit of electrical tape later, normality was restored and we were back on the road. After over two months on the road and a few thousand k’s, a loose wire seemed very minor. But, little did I know how the rest of the day would pan out.

Later in the day we made a lunch stop on the way to camp at Wilpena Pound and noticed what looked like some sort of oil over the back of the car and the front of the camper. My first thought was that the jerry can full of diesel on the front of the camper must have sprung a leak. Turned out to be full and leak free. I looked around and couldn’t see anything else amiss so put it down to a can of spray oil in the toolbox going off. So, after lunch, we jumped back in and carried on up the road.

On arriving at Wilpena campground, the clutch started to feel a bit ‘sticky’, and by the time we had stopped to pay our camping fees, we had no clutch left and I couldn’t get the car into gear at all. It was only then that it dawned on me the that oil on the back of the car and all over the caravan now was our clutch fluid, and for the non mechanically minded, a clutch works better with the fluid in the hydraulic system rather than spread across the front of whatever you are towing.

We managed to get the caravan into a camping spot and were able to unhitch the car and move it out of the way, but after that it was going nowhere.

Fortunately we still had mobile phone coverage, so after a call to the RACQ, a tow truck was organised to come and get us the following day around lunchtime and take us to Hawker, only about 50ks away, for repairs. This was an excellent result as it still gave us time to get up early the next morning and do a walk into Wilpena Pound.

Early morning walk completed, and as promised the tow truck turned up and carted us away. RACQ covered the cost of the tow plus our accomodation in Hawker and even for a hire vehicle while we waited for the required part to be shipped in from Melbourne.

Now, I hope I am not jinxing myself here as we are still waiting for the part to arrive as I write this, but so far so good. I consider myself to be very much a ‘glass half full person’, so I like to take to positives out of every situation rather than ponder the negatives. So, the positives as I see them are:

• We could have really been in the middle of nowhere with no phone service, but now we will be leaving here with a newly serviced clutch.
• We got up earlier than we would have to do our walk. It was awesome, no one else around, sun only just coming up, frost on the ground when we got up the hill, beautiful.

• We got a refund on our camping fees.
• We got three nights free accomodation in town.
• We explored the area in our hire car and found the most awesome scenery that we would have otherwise have missed.

• And finally I get to watch England v Belgium on the big TV instead of on the iPad in the caravan.

All is well, and if we break down again I hope the experience is as positive as this one.

So, update now a day later. Car is fixed and we will be on the road again in the morning. This morning though we met a couple from Tasmania in the cafe and got chatting. They had also broken down and their car was in the garage. Sadly their experience at the moment is slightly less positive than ours. They don’t have the same sort of cover that we do, so no free accomodation or car hire for them. Their mechanical failure is also rather more serious and expensive than ours and the vehicle needs to go to Adelaide to be repaired. That alone is a recovery fee of over $2k before they even open the bonnet.

Needless to say we are counting our lucky stars that that isn’t us.

Moral of the story: get the best breakdown recovery you can before leaving home. You might still breakdown, but at least they will get you home.

After two months on the road, living on a fairly;, tight budget, and cooking on a little gas stove or on a BBQ, am I sick of ‘camp food’?

F

Food and drink means far more to me than just filling my belly (although clearly that is a side effect of enjoying my food). We bond over dining experiences. Food and drink is always a part of our social gatherings and it has far more meaning than just fuel for the body.

Why am I writing about this now? Well, a few days ago while wine tasting in the Barossa valley the conversation and the wine made me reflect on how social eating and drinking can be and how important it is. We found ourselves in a little place called Greenock, after already having been to the Wolf Blass winery for a bit of tasting. Set up camp at the free camp ($5.00 donation) in the middle of town, and set off in search of more wine.

We wandered into the first winery, and while tasting we learned not only about the wines but about the local community, produce and businesses. We then stumbled onto the next winery, where it turned out to be the owners birthday and he was already a few wines in and having a good time. We were welcomed in, and whilst sampling the wines he told us the history of the town and his family’s connection with the town going back over a hundred years. We also met two of his sisters, one of whom is married to the brewer/owner of the local craft brewery. So, of course, we had to make the brewery our next stop. We staggered the hundred yards or so up the street to the brewery and sat at the bar with a few locals and the brewer to sample the beers and learn more about the local area. They were very interested in what we were up to and so travelling tales were told and more beer was drunk. And very good beer it was too. So good in fact that our next stop was the pub for a highly recommended schnitzel and another locally brewed beer.

So, the point of this tale isn’t about drunken wanderings around a small town in South Australia’s Barossa Valley. It is about how food and drink socialises and inspires.

And, back to my initial question, the answer is no. We have not resorted to convenience or frozen foods at all. All of our meals have been freshly cooked using mostly fresh produce. It really isn’t that hard to cook good meals while camping if you use a bit of imagination and pre planning. And despite the fact that our limited budget does not allow for a great deal of eating out we have had some great dining experiences of our own making.

Our meal pre planning involves shopping in bulk when we can and then portioning, bagging and squeezing as much as we can into out little caravan fridge. This week I jammed the freezer so full that it is now all wedged in so tight and frozen solid that I can’t get anything out.

Every once in a while we do save a little from the weekly budget for a ‘splurge’, and seeing as Adelaide is such a centre of good food and wine we can’t leave here without giving ourselves a bit of a treat. So, tonight, we are heading into the city to drink local wines (again), and find some inspiring and imaginative local food and let someone else cook for us for a change. Hopefully we will meet and chat to some local characters or even fellow travellers and share our tales of food, drink and travel.

Just for clarity, Lucy is not a person, but is in fact our little Jayco Swift camper. Not quite a caravan, but more than a camper trailer and, in fact somewhat like Dr. Who’s tardis.

Now, you are probably thinking ‘who names their camper Lucy, how sad.’ So before I explain how cool Lucy is I will quickly explain why she has a name.

I am not a huge fan of naming inanimate objects, but there are exceptions when they lend themselves to being named. In Lucy’s case her rego ends in ‘UCY’, and sitting around the campfire one night on her first trip to Birdsville in 2016 there was a discussion about naming her (she was only a few weeks old then) and Lucy just stuck ever since.

I am not being sponsored by Jayco (but hey, Jayco, all donations gratefully received), but Lucy truly is an awesome piece of kit. She really is tiny, but after a month on the road (so far), I am not feeling claustrophobic at all.

For a quick overnight set up, we can be parked, set up and ready to climb into bed in about 15 minutes. For a longer stay when we set up the awning etc. half an hour is all it takes, and packing down is about the same.

Inside we have everything we need. A bed pulls out at either end, we sleep on one and use the other for storage. We have a fridge, tv, radio, lights, running water, gas stove and dining table all ready to go, and with the solar recharging the batteries during the day we don’t need to plug in very often, and the 70lt water tank also keeps us going for a while. This all makes camping very cheap, or often free.

And of course, because Lucy is so small, when you hit the road you would hardly notice that she is there. She also has some serious off road capability so basically if our four wheel drive can get there, then so can Lucy.

So what about ‘stuff’. Well, this is where we get to the bit where I tell you that you don’t ‘need’ stuff and that your life is being over complicated by having too much of it.

We are living with whatever fits in Lucy (although it is surprising how much you can actually get in there), and we still have stuff we don’t need.

In preparation for this trip, we spent quite a bit of time sorting out our stuff at home as we basically had to empty the house out. It is actually pretty scary how much superfluous and unnecessary junk you can accumulate after 15 years in the same house. I think that most of us tend to fill the space that we have given enough time, and our house is a fairly large house. Sorting out and getting rid of stuff and ‘minimilising’ was actually a very liberating experience, and living in Lucy for the past month has actually reaffirmed that life can be much simpler and more rewarding with less stuff to clutter our day to day lives. Maybe there is some sort of relationship between stuff and long term contentment? I haven’t finished my research yet, but I suspect that there is an inversely proportional relationship between accumulated clutter and long term contentment. I will report back on this hypothesis in later blogs (maybe).

One day perhaps I will write about the places we have been and the things we have experienced, but in the meantime if you follow us on Facebook at No Real Destination, you can follow the trip and see the photos.

In the meantime, everyone loves Lucy, even the little fella below.

We have been on the road now for a bit less than two weeks, and we are really only a good days drive from home.

On the way though we have spent some time with friends, camped in some beautiful spots, done some great walks, and I have cycled down a good stretch of the Oxley Highway.

What is so special about the Oxley? Well, if you are a motorcyclist like me then you have probably either ridden it or it is on your bucket list to ride, and if it isn’t then it should be.

For the non motorcyclists, let me try to explain, although the best way to explain would be to put you on a motorbike and get you to ride it, then you would understand.

The Oxley winds it’s way up the Great Dividing range from Port Macquarie on the central NSW coast up to Walcha near Armidale on the tablelands. For much of its 180k stretch it has a speed limit of 110, although the limit on the best 40k stretch has recently been reduced to 80 despite a longstanding petition signed by just about every motorcyclist who has ever riden it, including me.

This road though is just so much fun to ride. When the road is dry and the sun is shining, and you get up before the caravaners, it is just awesome fun. I have had the pleasure of riding my Ducati up and down this road quite a few times and it really is what riding a bike is all about.

So, on this trip I didn’t come on a motorbike, but I do have my push bike on top of the car, so I wondered if it would be anywhere near as much fun coming down the best bit on a pushie.

We camped the night before up at Apsley gorge up near the top which was pretty spectacular. The next morning coming down to Port Macquarie I got my bike off the roof when we got to the really good bit and got Ali to drive the car down. The first thing I learned is that in a car or on a motorbike you don’t notice that even downhill has some fairly significant uphill bits.

In total I cycled about 40ks of the highway, about 10ks of which was a tough uphill slog, but that was well worth the effort for the 30ks of downhill. Not quite as exhilarating as doing it on a Ducati, but still heaps of fun and thoroughly recommended. I tried my hardest to exceed the 80k limit but the most I could get was just over 50 before having to brake for the next bend.

Anyway, that’s another thing ticked off the bucket list, maybe next time I will give it a go on rollerblades.

So, after 28 shifts, most of which were 12 hour days, a total of 3 days off, and a run of 18 days straight, my work at the athletes village is complete.

The hours that I worked were long and hard, but there were other chefs there who worked four weeks or more of 12-14 hour days with no day off at all, so my hours were pretty relaxed in comparison.

It has been a very long time, about 15 years, since I have worked full time in a kitchen, and although I used to do quite a bit of casual work for game days at Gold Coast and Brisbane stadiums it has been at least 5 years since I last did that. So, to say that I was physically unprepared for the rigours of being in a hot kitchen, on my feet constantly, day after day for 12 hours at a time is an understatement.

To tell the truth, until I got to the halfway point I didn’t think I was going to make it. Week one wasn’t that hard but I was still on my feet all day. Coming straight from an office job, that in itself was tough. Week two was when it really started to ramp up and I was physically exhausted by the end of each day. By the midway point though, I had found my grove back in the kitchen, knew what I was doing and my body (feet in particular) had got more used to my new environment.

18 months ago when I decided that I wanted to go back into the kitchen to work the games, it seemed like a good idea. Had I known how hard I would have to work and how many days it would be for I might have thought twice about it. I’m glad then that I didn’t really think it through, and consider that going back into the kitchen at 50, for a major event, cooking up to 18,000 meals per day, after a 15 year break was a stupid idea, as it was an awesome experience in the end.

Why was it so awesome? Well to start with getting to work with a great bunch of people from all over the world, all focussed on the same goal was great. I worked with great people from Brazil, Chile, Spain, Phillipines, India, Ireland, England, Indonesia, a variety of African countries, and there were even a few Aussies there too!

I think that when you bring people together for a relatively short period of time for a high profile event it brings out the best in people and the team needs to gel together quite quickly to get things done. There is also the advantage that there isn’t time for the workplace politics to come into play that so often happens in a large workforce that is together for a longer period.

The atmosphere of the village was great, and although I spent most of my day in the kitchen it was a great place to be.

And, dare I say it, I actually enjoyed being back in the kitchen and not having to worry about budgets, board reports, performance evaluations or ASQA audits. So am I tempted to return to the kitchen full time? Not on your life, no way, I am not that delusional. Would I do another major event like the Com Games though, yes, absolutely, bring it on, where do I sign up?

So for anyone who has never been in a commercial kitchen or worked at a major event I will try to give you an idea of the scale of the operation.

Every morning I would start at 3am to cook breakfast for 6,000 hungry athletes. I would often be walking through the gate at the same time as some very drunk athletes returning from a night out in Surfers.

Breakfast prep consisted of around 200 litres of egg pulp for scrambled eggs, over 150 trays of bacon, 15 boxes of mushrooms and plenty of other breakfast staples such as gallons of porridge, countless tins of baked beans and more chipolatas than I ever want to see again.

I never actually counted the number of chefs and cooks on the roster, but preparing, cooking and serving 6,000 breakfasts, lunches and dinners, with a few hundred ‘overnight’ meals as well requires quite a few sets of hands. Those of us cooking in the hot production kitchen essentially relied on the team in the cold production kitchen for all our ingredients to be supplied and prepped so we could do our job of suppling the team in the service area with cooked and ready to serve food, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. There was never a time when food wasn’t available, with breakfast running into lunch, lunch into dinner, dinner into supper and supper into breakfast.

So while still cooking breakfast we would have to get lunch on the go, ready to be set up by 11am, and then towards the end of my shift we would have to have dinner ready to hand over to the night crew who started at 3pm.

The volume of food that we went through was mind boggling. You could walk into one of the cold rooms in the morning and see pallets of produce in there and go back in the afternoon and see it half empty.

There were also daily challenges of running out of specific items and having to make menu changes and improvise to get around the issue. The day we ran out of egg pulp was the toughest as that meant cracking hundreds and hundreds of eggs to make the scrambled.

Most of the senior chefs were equipped with a radio, earpiece and mike so that we could be in constant communication. This was a practical necessity, but also created some amusing moments and allowed the opportunity for a bit of banter. I never knew what ugali was before (google it), but after hearing the head chef yelling into his radio at the African section every day that we need more of it, it became a bit of a standing joke.

And so now, I need a lie in, a couple of days to recover from the experience, and next week we hit the road, and hopefully we can catch up along the way with a few of the people we have spent the last month working with.