I've spent a grand total of four weeks living in a tin box on wheels, also known as a campervan, going from West to East Coast via a brief sojourn to Uluru. And now that I've stopped I seem to remember everything in a rather undefined blur... I remember thinking to myself on several legs of the journey that I should really record this or that moment for the future, so that when I look back in the dusty recesses of my memory it will once again come alive for me. Alas, it is not to be, but still I try...
Some bits are easy - Western Australia has the best free camp spots so far. They are the "alternative" spots in the wilderness which doesn't cost you a cent to stay. They are defined by being away from the main road, usually next to a river or running creek (rather than a dry one, of which there are many in the Northern Territory and Queensland) and have sweet f.a by way of facilities. We found a lovely spot on our first night on a local farmer's land that he allowed for free campers (which we thought was frightfully nice and civilised of the chap!) - a lake surrounded by trees and as ever, tons of wildlife in the way of cows and birds. It was too good to be true. Over in the distance a gentle red glow had turned the whole night black and red and was suddenly staring us menacingly in the face along with the none too gentle whiff of smoke... a bush fire headed in our direction.
Bugger that, we thought and hotfooted it a short distance to the farm homestead to ask for local advice; were we safe where we were thinking of staying, would we be able to get past it in a vehicle if we tried to push onwards (nevermind the kangaroos that come out like the plague at night just itching to jump out in front of you), should we turn back or what??? Sadly no owners seemed present, just an all male group of workers who thought we might be safe, but "it's a bit hard to tell at the moment" and "should be alright mate". Bugger that, we thought again, and decided to risk the roo rat run and push onwards in the hope that a fire wouldn't be raging in the middle of the road. We were rather pleased that one wasn't. The glow of the fire and the pall of the smoke slowly receeded in our rear view mirror over a period of an hour. We shall never know, but a guess we probably weren't in any mortal danger from the bush fire; they are frightfully hard to judge in terms of how near they are to you. Yet images were racing through our minds of all the horror news reports we'd seen on British television of uncontrollable bush fires that spread rack and ruin willy nilly with no thought for human life, land or wildlife in its' ever changing path. So we felt rather more safer, if a bit out of pocket, when we limped into a caravan park at the nearest town.
Anyway, I digress, back to the camp spots. Despite our hoo-ha with the bush fire, we continued seeking out isolated, gorgeous camp spots, stopping only at caravan parks for the obligatory once a week shower! Since we were both in the same situation, it didn't really matter and with the streams running at most of the camp spots we still got to cool down and wash down to a degree. The temperatures throughout W.A were a shocker. By 9.30am most mornings the van was unbearable regardless of whether we were parked in shade or not and the goal for every morning was to ignore stomach rumblings, pack up home as quickly as possible and get on the road with the air conditioning pumping full blast. It was that or loss of sanity!!
We made it over to the border into the Northern Territories within about a week and the change in landscape and weather was amazing and hugely welcome. As we arrived at Victoria River Roadhouse for a fuel top up, instead of the standard desert bush we were confronted with gorgeous, damp, rolling pasture and semi tropical trees and bushes. The day was overcast with a hint of rain past or future and a cool wind blowing - it was such a welcome change we were rendered speechless for once and just stood like loonies outside the roadside breathing in the fresh cool air and enjoying the view.
One of the highlights was splashing out on a helicopter ride over the Katherine Gorges (Nitmiluk National Park). It was frightfully daunting as I was in the front seat of the helicopter with just a seat belt between me and the great open sky, but exhilerating nonetheless. It was also the most convenient way of seeing the gorges which spread out for miles without having to take a hike - not my forte! We also had the dubious pleasure of a little audience of wallabies while eating our dinner that night.
From there we travelled down the middle of the NT, making a short detour to Daly Waters - a tiny town with a population of just 20 (!) people and a claim to fame of "the oldest pub in the Northern Territories". Apparently it was established in the 1930s which compared to Europe, really isn't that historic at all. Nevertheless it had a rather rustic used feel about it which added to the overall charm and served not only as a pub, but fuel station, caravan park, motel and restaurant. The pub area was decorated with all manner of weird things; many people leave behind (stuck to the walls) photo ID or business cards and on the more wilder nights appear to have left without their underwear, as all shapes and sizes of knickers, boxers and bras were strewn from the ceiling.
We had planned on cutting through the middle of the NT and heading though onto Queensland, but we were so near (and yet so far as we discovered) to Uluru (Ayres Rock) that we decided to make another detour (2 days of driving!) down to Uluru, since it seemed the thing to do as we were in Australia! The NT by this time were no longer the lush green of the top end, but more a red desert of neverending nothingness. By the time we reached Uluru we were grateful to see anything higher than a termite mound and anything more interesting than tarmc. It is true that Uluru does change colour as the angle and strength of the sun fades, but nothing quite so dramatic as all those rather nice postcards you see! It is also a massive tourist industry now, with a ring road running round the whole rock clogged with buses and buses of tourists. In the 60s you had to fly in to see it landing on a dirt track. Oh and it was free then. Still, we felt a sense of achievement that we had seen it and wouldn't have to wonder if we had been missing something for the rest of journey.
The next highlight, wich sadly did not involve any highs, was breaking down on the way back from Uluru... stopped by the side of the road in burning sunlight (42 degrees celsius and not a cloud in the sky) we managed to flag down an unsuspecting 4WD with a German couple behind the wheel. As we were driving a 2 ton campervan, we didn't really have much option for other vehicles that would be capable of towing us. They very kindly towed us to the nearest roadhouse, which like all places in the outback served as fuel station, restaurant, bar and a place to sleep. The staff there were rather lovely (the only Aboriginals we managed a good laugh and a chat with) and we spent the night there waiting for a spare part to arrive the next day.
All was well, once we had done our bit of DIY mechanics and bounded off down the road in high spirits, back on our roadtriip again. 60km down the road we broke down again. And this time we really were in the bush with not a sign of another vehicle for a long long time. It was then that we really appreciated why we were carrying 50 litres of water and plenty of food! Luckily some outback dude in a Ford 4WD older than me came past and offered us a tow to the nearest town with mechanic - a healthy 40km away! And bless him, we all struggled but we got there in the end. Hooray, hooray and several beers later we passed out! The following (rather painful!) day was spent in the cold and the rain playing cards (it was 25 degrees, but half the temperature of the previous day so we shivered - lots!) waiting for the mechanic to materialise; which he did. The day after.
Arriving over the border in Queensland was rather a shock from the relatively scenic parts of the NT we had been through. The road suddenly narrows to become a dodgy single lane of tarmac (or bitumen as they call it in these parts), yet great 50 metre long road trains still come trundling through leaving us with no option but to get the hell off the tarmac onto the dirt verge in our beat up diesel van when such montrosities were headed in our direction! Added to this was the unremarkable semi arid desert scenery and poker straight roads that made for a pretty dull drive.
We made attempts throughout the bush of QLD to stay, as was our cheap and cheerful habit, in free bush camps. Sadly the QLD government has recently decreed that no free camps are to made available within 50km of paid for accomodation such as caravan parks/motels etc. so that narrowed the choice a bit. They also seemed to have the bright idea of tarmac-ing every free area and placing them right next to the highways, which although not busy, still roar with the sound of cars or roadtrains as there are no barriers to contain the noise, just open shrubland. So in conclusion, we decided that WA had the best bush camps while QLD was sadly lacking. In any case, we passed through some fairly non descript towns and settlements, many basing their livelihood on mining making for fairly unattractive places. Once out of the bush and along the coast, the scenery naturally improved and we were closer to our final destination in Far North Queensland.
Cairns itself is a rather souless sort of place but apparently the most heavily populated by tourists. As a backpacker, it has an abundance of choice with many, many cheesey entertainment clubs for those incapable of entertaining themselves without some form of karaoke or wet tee shirt competition. I think I may be getting rather old as it really didn't appeal. The city itelf is based around a network of streets leading to the Esplanade which looks out over ugly mud flats - to increase the appeal, the local authority has built a public outdoor lagoon/swimming pool which I admit has increased its charm slightly but wasn't enough for me to stay. We headed further north and have since spent about four months in a small, relatively upmarket town which although not great, has more character than Cairns and is far more manageable for such a period of time.
The plan so far has been for money as travel plans need cold hard cash and therefore so did we. I have found myself in jobs that I really wish I didn't have to do and certainly weren't the reasons I came half way round the world, but since it's been for a relatively short period of time I bit the bullet, gritted my teeth, you name it and got on with it. My partner has been doing the same but simultaneously studying to be a scuba diver instructor and once that is complete we shall be on the road again hopefully with some firm plans for our next stop in the world.
In some respects, it's been an interesting experience. We've met plenty of travellers and got to know quite a number of locals. I am beginning to understand why many people come to settle in Australia. The lifestyle is very relaxed (since it's so bloody hot there's no other way to be), the locals working in services are generally excellent at dealing with people from all walks of life and for the most part seem friendly, the streets are clean and everything works. On the other hand, life here is remarkably similar to home - groups of people form together and go out drinking.... and that's it. So for me, I look forward to being back on the road with all its requisite challenges and each day bringing something new.
No comments:
Post a Comment