It’s weird seeing Christmas decorations in warm bright weather. Even more comical is that Australians use snowflakes as decorations – paper ones, of course, the real thing is rare indeed at these temperatures.
Australians continue to be friendly types, smiles from everybody, understanding when I don’t know which coins to use or they can’t handle the accent. Interestingly they seem to share the American suspicion that I have an Australian accent, one lady only confirming to herself that I was from the UK when I mentioned half-nine in the morning. Apparently they always go for ‘half past nine’, never the shorter form.
Add in the warm days, starting in the high teens, ending in the high 20s, sun visible throughout, add in the colourful birds, greens, reds, yesterday ones with yellow bodies, and especially add in the kangaroos, those sandy coloured ones that perk up and watch you then hop another 50m away, stop and watch you again.. add all that and Australia is just awesome. Avoid the big cities, they’re as shitty as every other country, and hit the outback. It’s a cruel unforgiving place of total awesomeness.
On Monday I stopped the car, walked up a sand dune, looked across the desert and could see.. desert. Even the road was sand, that and my vehicle were the only signs humans even existed. In other news I’ve now walked on sand dunes on four continents.
The distressing news is that a mere 160km detour would’ve taken me to Broken Hill, host to many scenes from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. By the time I discovered this that detour had grown to 580km, a little too much to fit into a schedule already requiring a 550km drive. For those seeking to retrace my tyre tracks, from Willcannia head West to Broken Hill, pop into Mario’s Palace and only then head to Menindee.
Being back in civilised Australia feels weird. No longer are 98% of the non-commercial vehicles (and three quarters of the commercial ones) Toyota Hiluxes in various configurations, but there are other people around too. Towns have more than 40 houses. It didn’t last long, soon onto a long stretch of road, farmland all around, no kangaroos, no houses. Then a break in the flat landscape, something alive, bent down eating. Another emu!
A few kilometres later, two more. Then nothing, just the road and a flat wilderness, nothing growing more than knee height, no trees, no hills, just the road and flatness to the horizon in all directions.
A few kilometres after that photograph a road train passed on the other side. I’d overtaken a few myself, more coming the other way. A few hundred yards later an estate car coming the other way edged over the centre line, so I gave it some room. It kept coming, and I was on cruise control at 110km/h. I swerved left and it came completely into my lane, so I went further to the side, no hard shoulder, my tyres brushing the verge. Past it I looked in my rear mirror, watching it continue across my lane and go off the road.
I stopped, turned around, drove back. It had come to a halt parallel with the road, three foot lower down but looking in one piece. Two people got out, a woman and a teenage boy, college age. “He fell asleep!” she said, indicating the driver still slumped at the wheel. I made sure they were ok, got thanked for avoiding them, waited for them to pull back up onto the tarmac. Another car stopped, a Hilux from which the passenger alighted, spoke to me out of earshot of the sleepy family. They’d overtaken her a while back, dangerously, but she’d stopped to see if there was a problem anyway. We both got back in our cars and continued our journeys.
Further on another emu, strutting atop an irrigation channel embankment. Half a kilometre later, three more. I saw more emu than (live) kangaroos today.
I took a detour into Hay. I’d been driving for three hours by then and it was time for coffee. The coffee shop was full of parents with children, toddlers and smaller ones. I asked for a mug of coffee and a slice of the pink stuff I’d seen being taken out – probably to the kids. “Jelly?” she asked, but I gave it a try anyway.
It came with a cake fork, which surprised me. The pink was jelly, the white base thicker, more solid and tasted quite neutral.
Next door to the cafe was a chemist, the first I could remember seeing in Australia. It reminded me I needed to buy sunblock and with the help of the lady I acquired an Australian brand, SPF 50+, water resistant for four hours. I haven’t had sunburn all holiday, too good at finding shade, but I was about to hit some pacific islands on which the attraction was beaches and swimming in shark infested sea. If I’m going to be eaten by a shark it can damn well get food poisoning from my sunblock.
Hay is another charming Australian town; they do small towns superbly here. I’m not sure how large it is but got the impression I met every pre-school child in the town in the cafe.
From there the landscape changed, fully irrigated for the rest of the journey, grazing for sheep and cattle. 60km from my destination it started to look like Western Europe, just the 32C temperature out of kilter. At that point, five hours on the road, I deviated for the first time in the journey, followed a sign to a ‘scenic reserve’. It was thick woodland on the only hill for miles, which also meant a panoramic view of the area.
I took a walk there, following signs to find the caves a local outlaw had allegedly hid in. Most of them were alcoves in the clif face, some smaller ones dark inside, but not easily accessibe and needing to be crawled into. I declined, climbed back up the cliff, sat in the car overheating, glad to have finally escaped the irritating flies.
Over 30km from anywhere a police car had stopped on the verge. Its driver was setting out small signs for passing motorists. “Mobile speed trap”. I was past before he’d set up, and going the wrong way for the signs anyway.
35km later I reached Wagga Wagga. Cheap fuel, but I’d have to fill up in the morning. My hotel was easy to find and has an included grill so I decided to commit to it for the night, ordered a vodka. Later I ate in the hotel, their grill offering what seems to be the standard Aussie options. Beef & Reef, chicken schnitzels, Parmi. I went for the Mexican Chicken Parmi, help yourself to chips.
3km walked isn’t enough to counter the weight gain from three vodkas. Ah well. 7pm and in my room, only 5 hours sleep and a long drive today.
The room is basic. Two single beds, a wardrobe with three wire hangers, a fridge with teacups on top and inverted glasses inside. There is a small sink but the bathroom is down the corridor, turn right, on the right. There’s one shower for the dozen rooms, guess it’s going to be intimate in there.
The hotel is one of the few I’m staying at in Australia called a hotel, and the least like one. It’s a cafe, a grill, a sports bar, a bookie. It also has somewhere to crash for the night.
Wagga Wagga is an expensive place to stay. Single bed, no TV in the room, shared bathroom: $75 for the night. But when a town called Wagga Wagga is halfway from A to B and you need to stop for sleep on the way, you play the price and stay there.