Nullarboring

Final remarks of a fantastical journey, the roadtrip portion of our travels comes to an end. 

Departure from Adelaide was inaugurated with an afternoon brewery tour following a visit to each of our institution of choice. Louis was content to find his favourite Australian impressionist Rupert Bunny had a few pieces to offer at the art gallery. Kent was content with the exposition dedicated the choicest Southern Hemisphere naturalist Doug Mawson (among the first to research in Antarctica, and a famous mapper of the Flinders Ranges) at the Natural History museum. Afterwards, we were impersonally greeted by a metal gate and intercoms at the Cooper's Brewery for our tour. We saw the ins and outs of an Ale brewery which among other things: has it's own natural gas cogen powerplant (heats the "liquor", produces electricity AND somehow uses heat to run a cooler), has a reverse osmosis battery, produces feed for cattle from waste and cans malt extract for homebrewing and exports spent yeast to Japan to flavour other alcohols. We were impressed by the generous tastings, including an intro to the previous two years of vintage beers.

From Adelaide, we found a small spot a couple hours north of town beyond the Barossa Valley called Gladestone perhaps. We enjoyed Schitzel and a good night's sleep at a pub hotel, resting up for our trip through the Flinders Ranges the next day (warning, the rest of this paragraph is geology heavy). Known for their purple hue, the mountain ranges north of Adelaide have a lot to offer. Wilpena Pound, the first sight for visitors is a spectacular bluff composed of neoproterozoic quartzites. A short drive north along a ridgetop road brought us to a cleverly laid out geology trail. Along the trail, our curiosity was satiated by indepth signs describing the deposition of sediments through almost immeasurable eons. Included in these sediments were the Proterozoic/Paleozoic boundary, a thin bed which contains ejecta from a meteorite over 600 million years ago (the crater, also in SA, is still detectable today), tillites recording precambrian glaciations (Snowball Earth), Cambrian worm burrows, stromatolites with some shelly fossils (so far misidentified by signs, thinks Kent), and the type locality for the enigmatic Ediacaran fauna. After some rockhounding, we didn't find any of our own Ediacaran fossils in the massive quartzite, not even the famous Dicksonia rex, so we'll have to take their word for it (there is another famous locality in Newfoundland, so we can look again in Canada). Any EPSers will appreciate that there is a thin, buff-coloured dolomite lithology in the sequence which is a good marker bed for mapping.

We made it to Port Augusta before dark, and decided to try our hand at winter camping. Unfortunately, a two year drought ended in the middle of the night, and between the rain and wind neither of us got much sleep. We had to pack up wet tents and sleeping bags in the morning, exacerbated by the wet clothes we were wearing. The weather cleared up by the time we made it to the Nullarbor. The Nullarbor, latin for "without trees" is what Australian nightmares are made of, thousands of kilometres of treeless, freshwaterless, hillless planes. On the flip side, featuring in Aussie fantasies is the fact that there are also no Kangaroos. Louis and Kent would like it to be known that the Nullarbor was as daunting as it was treeless. Truth be told, there were many trees, Kent stopped counting a minute in already at a total of 12. Sad as the trees were, whoever named the Nullarbor clearly hadn't ventured too far into it. Could someone please translate "Very few trees, except a few places which have a lot" into Latin? What was shocking were the sheer cliffs at the waters edge. Called the Great Australian Bight, or GAB-oi! (kidding), the ocean is really just scary there. Louis aptly remarked that looking into the water of the GAB was like looking into the middle of the ocean, even though we knew it met land's edge just out of sight. Kent did manage to see where the waves met the land, tough where there is just a cliff in between front without much relief in the coastline, and it was impressive. It's probably a 25 metre cliff which slopes steeply at the top, is vertical for the majority of the way, and then cuts back in where the waves lap at it, complimented only by sharp spiky rocks jutting out from the ocean just beneath. All that with absolutely no guard rail at the lookout, and nobody for miles around, ensuring that anybody to step out a few feet too far to take a look would slip, roll, fall for a while, be impaled and/or break bones, then have absolutely no chance of climbing back up or even being seen from land. The good news? Just up the coast in port Lincoln, they boast great white shark diving since there are so many around. In fact, there could be a chance to catch a ride from a whale to safety were one passing by since the area is known for whale sightings. The brochures were right, looking out really did feel like being at the edge of the Earth.

At Border Village, we stayed the night and ate all our remaining fruits and veggies so as not to contaminate WA with fruitflies or something. They checked in the morning at a huge quarantine station, the guard did a thorough check guaranteeing us a vitaminless day. We completed the Nullabor, the Subo was our Knight in shiny silver armour, but alas not without its toll. The windshield had double crack in it from a stray pebble kicked up from a roadtrain. Still, Subo humbly brought us through Norseman to Kalgoorlie, and we were happy, eating canned beans, sardines and pepperoni.

After booking in for a night in Kalgoorlie, figured we would check out the sights. Featuring in the night's activities was a breathtaking waterfountain, but not of the traditional variety. Half homage to the prospectors, half praise for the towns lifeline from perth, the water fountain was a smaller than life statue of a founding preospector sitting down and holding a little bag, from which the signiture WA waterfountain mouth piece was thrust. The act of drinking from this fountain is comedic because one has to put their head on Mr.'s lap. 

Another flagship industry of Kalgoorlie is the "skimpies," bars in which a portion of the bartending ladies are wearing lingerie. The Superpit, a giant open-mine right in the town, was our last touristic stop of the trip. We even drove right past the town claiming to have a 600+m-long roadtrain. As if!

Well folks, it is all over now. After 9-weeks of eating avocado-and-boiled-egg sandwiches for lunch and pub-food for dinner we find ourselves back in Perth for a week or so before heading back to the Great White North. For our Australian readership: Farewell! For the Canadians: see you soon!

Love,

Kent and Louis

South Australia

Our room in the Old Jail in Mt. Gambier

Some of the Apostles on the Great Ocean Road, Victoria

We spend two nights on the road between Melbourne and Adelaide. Along the Great Ocean Road we slept and played backgammon in a cute little auberge at Apollo Bay. The next night, after having pulled over at look-outs all day along the beautiful coastline, we stayed at the old Mt Gambier Jail which has been converted into a hostel. It is an old limestone building much like the Fremantle Jail but on a much smaller scale.  Mt Gambier turned out to be a great geology stop for us. They have a crater lake from a Recent maar volcano (with a thin layer of basalt overlying limestone within the crater and ash on top) and sink-holes all around town which are circular pits 20 meters wide that go down about that deep as well. Some have been made into beautiful gardens by early philanthropists. 

If it weren't for the coast line, the South Australian borders would be as boring as Saskatchewan's. Unlike Saskatchewan, and the rest of Australia, SA wasn't founded by convicts! For those of you who could use a geography brush up, Adelaide is a village next to Kent Town. Adelaide also happens to be the Capital of this historically, but not presently, convictless state.

After a foray of night life including chinese food and a late night we're-still-friends brawl in the park resulting in many grass stains, we woke up for a visit to the famed Glenelg. Beside's its name being a palindrome it has it's own quaint charm, earning it Louis' title of Adelaide's Fremantle. Charm aside, it also has its share Australian history as it was the first colony town of SA. We were invited in for tea by the lovely Nanny Marshall, who took us in for some tea/coffee and crumpets in her amazing beachside home.

Today we're heading to the long awaited Cooper's Brewery tour. Afterwards we'll make our way up to the Flinders Ranges for our final park visit before the long stretch back to Perth.

Marvelous Smellbourne

Melbourne, city of culture and rain and home to the worlds wrongest right turn where you have to go in the left lane to turn right at an intersection. Enough to make one find a good parking spot and just tram around instead. The drive in involved a trip through the Snowy Mountains, or more accurately, Snowpatch Mountains. To be fair, one of the winding roads we intended to take was closed due to snow. We stayed in the foothills in a quaint town at a pub hotel. It was a cold night indeed, and to add insult to injury we found out we both had slept all night with our electric blankets off.

We hit a museum or three museum, saw some dinosaur skeletons, as we do in almost every city, working out Saurischians from Ornischians, admiring ancient books in the gorgeous State Library's exhibit, Ned Kelly's famous armour, and the typical marble busts of DWGs (dead white guys). We walked around the Botanical Gardens and crisscrossed the city on foot and on tram across precincts. We enjoyed the permanent collection at the NGV (National Gallery of Victoria) which boasted a choppy collection of artifacts from Mesopotamia through the Classical roman right to Maori sculptures from the 60s. 

Wildlife was cute and cuddly on the surface but turned out to be dark and evil, a little possum bit Kent's hand before posing politely for a picture with Louis.

We went out with Bec and Mr. Whiting (Jacqui's sis and dad) and stayed with them as well for the first few nights which was great. We enjoyed their neighbourhood St. Kilda, the nearby beach and their dogs Mr Gus and Saf. They treated us like royalty, showing us around and taking us to some of Melbourne's best haunts.

Then our old friend Michelle Deakin came down on the train all the way from Orange, NSW on a day-long journey to hang out with us for the week-end. How jubilant we were to see her on the platform! We were Melbourne experts by then and knew just where to go for the best cafes on Degraves lane, the hippest shops in Fitzroy, and the coolest bars on Chapel Street in South Yarra where we broke the bank on fancy drinks. The highlight was a bar called Borsch, Vodka and Tears which boasted an unprecedented selection of vodkas and cocktails and served amazing soup too. Fireplaces and cheap beer were welcome commodities breaking up the stylish scene and fancy cocktails.

We now look forward to driving along the Great Ocean Road with our spankin' new mix CDs!

Love!

Sydné

Kent and Louis were delightfully trapped in Brisbane for 10 days. There we saw the sites, crossed the Story Bridge on foot, took the CityCat ferry along the river, went to see a few movies and got into nightclubs. The thing is that we do not have proper nightclub shoes and the bouncers are very strict in Brizzie. Louis has black running shoes and Kent has old beat-up hiking boots with ax-holes in them. We were, accordingly, refused entry. But then our friend Rosie bumped into a friend who said he had a pair for us. So we walked over to his car, parked near a bar where he was playing a gig that night. But how can two men gain entrance to one club with one pair of shoes? Answer: with an sneaky bold accomplice! Kent stashed his shoes under a street bench in some shrubs on the busy street and put on the nice pair. He went in with Rosie as I waited around the corner. Now the tough part. She came out with the good shoes tucked under her jacket behind her as Kent waited inside, shoeless. Louis took the shoes from Rosie and put his own under her jacket and gave her a few minutes to get back in before walking up (or rocked up as they say here). Success! We pulled the old switcheroo inside and high-fived. Leaving the place Kent went back to the bench and surprised onlookers when he pulled out boots from behind the bench and walked away with them hanging from the laces on his shoulder.
Subo was subject to the mechanic's whims for fully 4 days. We cruised around Brisbane in our new white chariot, hyundo. With a little luck and much stress, subo was registered under my name on monday evening at 4:45. She then made it back to the mechanic for a last minute CV shaft replacement in the dark. She's been in perfect health since, and is excitedly waiting for us 4 stories underground a couple blocks away.
We're making a shorter stay in this wretched hive of scum and villainy known as Sydney. We've exhausted this resource: Lord Nelson pub, ferry to Manly, Natural history museum, Redoak pub, a bunch of other pubs, etc... Kent managed to shock Louis with a high-five from the DJ's stage at the pub last night, he was happily dancing away up there. King's Cross has been a great nook to discover, and an absolute highlight is a small Indian place on the main drag which has reinvented the kebab, using naan, tandouri chicken and some butter chicken sauce. Absolutely brilliant, especially since it seems to be open as long as it's dark out. We thank you Sydney for food, and we will sing songs of your greatness back in Perth and make Perth feel bad. Then we'll tell Perth it's alright, there's still time to grow, and the Swan River is unbeatable.

Bristanbul

Brisbane, sometimes referred to as Brisney Land, or Bris Vegas... or why not BrIsreal, BrIstanbul, Puerto Risbane is a sultry settlement. We are staying with our Brizzie connection Jacqui who is showing us around and housing us as well and taking us around in her roofless 4 wheel drive Suzuki (the Suzi) giving Subo a rest.
Subes was just so excited about Brisbane, she cast away her oil cap on the open road. A trip to the wrecker solved the problem; we scored the replacement for free. Subo now sits in Jacqui's driveway like Frankenstein on the surgeon's table, a hodgepodge of cannibalised parts, awaiting a replacement windscreen (windshield). If all goes well she'll be ready to pass the roadworthy inspection, which, along with heaps of other paperwork, will allow her to be reregistered.
We've also been enjoying the sights of this rockin metropolis. We spent a day at the museum, we went to the lookout and we spent an entire day at a cheap breakfast joint. Mostly it's been hanging out with our outrageous friends Jacqui and Rosie, along with Sam and the entirety of Jacqui's immediate family, Mr. W, Ma Marshall, Ian and John.

Rum and Ginger

The drive from Cairns was undertaken with no extra passengers. We felt we could do the relatively short drive (1713 km) more erratically and leisurely that way. We did it in four days, camping in national parks or forests twice and in a free roadside camping once. But we crossed the Tropic of Capricorn on the way down. This is their December. It is cold. The first night was alright. The second night, after seeing some crocs being fed and koalas and such, we stayed in a national forest in a campground 12 km along a dirt track. A German ex-pat was camping there and we set down next to him in the dark. He invited us to his massive fire and told us he has been travelling for 10 years since retiring. I think he knows every corner of the country, he knew in detail exactly the places we had been.

Each of our three camps, we were visited by a new creature. The first night it was little black turkeys, keen to annoy us with turkey noises and rustling of grass. In the state forest the following night it was clever little possums. They came down from the trees at dusk, and quickly discovered our tomatoes and bread. Kent even put a rock on our pantry tupperware and the cheeky monkeys worked so hard at the handles they pulled them off. The third night was the frozen free camp, where we saw Grey Nomads in their natural habitat. Louis excitedly identified them in a whisper. They arrive quietly, hours before you do, and await the veil of night in their caravans, enjoying an occasional brisk walk through camp. Then, without warning, they turn on their generators and outdoor floodlights and watch satellite TV. In all honesty, we met a few lovely RV campers who were helpful and polite, and genuinely interested in our trip. All the elements of camping came together like the four ingredients of a bittersweet instant coffee: good simple meals, waking up cold at night, meeting fellow campers and wildlife.

Yesterday, we finally made it to our most important destination: Bundaberg! Yes, the site of the famous rum distillery as well as the ginger beer brewery (read ginger ale). We visited both places and sampled their sweet nectars and bought some drinks and merch. Unfortunately, Bundie is not the stuff dreams are made of and we decided to push on. Even more unfortunately, Kent scored the first speeding ticket of the trip, doing one one four in a hundred zone. The cop didn’t scold, infact he must have been trying to meet his quota of the night before taking a little nap, he rushed off without even saying “no buts meow, that’s the law.”

As if compelled by the television gods, Louis got out of bed last night to see what he was hearing on TV. It was only Bill Maher but a promo said that Conan O'Brien was coming up and Jimmy Fallon too. Louis stayed up half the night watching them, gleeful and content.

This morning, in the Mooloolaba hostel, Coldplay blared through blown speakers early in the morning as if to make some young packpacker feel it was the soundtrack to their OC inspired life. We now turn our attention to the beach, and ponder the next stretch of road to Brisneyland. Without having actually seen the beach yet, this potent holiday spot seems like a cross between Perth’s Scarborough beach and the Sydney Harbour. The Sunshine Coast we are just an hour or two from Bris Vegas, small country roads are now divided highways with roadside motels and fast-food joints and everything! We are both looking forward to settling down for a bit, and lord knows Subo needs a break (and a new rear left tyre!).

Coping in Cairns

Arrow tree in Mt. Isa showing exact distance and direction to great cities such as Rome and Kamloops, BC.

Happy and safe travels took place between Darwin and Cairns. It was a textbook journey including, but not limited to: 2 belgian backpackers (Ludo and Arnaud), 2 National/State parks, 225km of dirt road, 1 bag of goon (boxed wine), 3 square meals a day, 1 dinosaur museum visit, 1cracked windshield, 2 wallabies petted, 2 campfires and 2 and a half free campsites, and dozens of roadtrains passed. We started the trip with a mandatory stop at the famed magnetic termite mounds in Litchfield park (better known for croc feeding), and then booked it towards the red centre until Threeway. The Queensland border was welcome, but the monotany of savannah grasslands didn't fully end until we reached the foothills of the great dividing range. The 4 of us enjoyed the Porcupine (misnomer) NP camp along the Kennedy Developmental road. The road itself had an identity crisis, and wasn't decided on single lane paved, fully dirt or straight country highway with lines. The savannah faded away as the eucalyptus trees became denser and taller eastwards, until we hit the foothills. The pastures of the foothills were reminiscent of a tropical Scotland, and the road was woven into the patchwork of emerald polygon fields, and Kent's arms ached as we twisted through the landscape. Further down the road, we were all taken aback by the mammoth mountains heading into Cairns, and Kent's arms ached some more. After a fairly standard night out on the town (beer, mates, dancing women) we're acclimatising ourselves for a trip to the outer edge of a little reef near by you might have heard of called the Great Barrier. Then there is a monster truck show in town that we might have a look at.

From here we shall head south along the coast.