It took me 8 weeks, but I came to the conclusion that Australia is rather large (much like the road trains, a tenuous link but I wanted to include that photo). Kazakhstan is big, India is Big, Mongolia is big, I know, I’ve driven across all of them. Yet they are mere minions compared to Australia.
All bar one of my posts about Australia have been about specific places or events. I’ve given very little wordage to life on the road in between. And trust me, there was a lot of road. We covered over 13,000 km in two months and there are several things that I was continuously impressed by.
The changes in scenery when covering such distances are great and dramatic. In South Australia for example, within half a day went from arid flat desert to rolling green hills full of livestock. To accompany this comes the climate changes. Something normally you associate with air travel. You get in a plane in a cold country, and get off it again a number of hours later in somewhere swelteringly hot. I was surprised how much difference I noticed in the temperature and weather and how quickly it occurred just by driving several hundred kilometres (obviously more noticeable north-south than east-west).
The wildlife in Australia is so diverse and so abundant. To be seen and heard everywhere, not only in the outback but in the towns and cities as well. Furthermore, to a European, the selection of animals is quite bizarre. The native beasts of this land are so different from anything we have at home. I can only imagine what the first European explorers thought when they encountered it all. Most striking and amusing for me were the Kangaroos and Wallabies seen hopping across the road at dawn and dusk.
The country caters so well for those in “recreational vehicles”, that is camper vans and caravans. There are public toilets all over the place along with free rest / camp areas often with toilets, water and barbeques (sometimes gas or electric powered). It is no real surprise given that about 80% of the traffic on the road is due to tourism, but again it is impossible to imagine this in Europe. As a result, one can get by very cheaply living on the road, stocking up in the big supermarkets (especially with the ultra cheap Home Brand food at the Woolworths), with the biggest cost being fuel.
Apart from backpackers with similar itineraries, the majority of people doing the mobile home thing are early retired Australians or the “Greying Nomads” as they affectionately call themselves. Many have sold up their homes and live permanently on the road taking several years to cover what we did in two months. Their “homes” ranging from tiny vans with a mattress in the back to fully converted coaches with all the mod cons and often a boat and car being dragged along behind. The different solutions and ingenuity of some of the vehicles was very impressive to a techy guy like me.
These Greying Nomads are so friendly. No sooner than you have pulled up in a camp area, then people will wander over to say hello, see where your from and invite you to join them around the camp fire. This open friendliness is something that is missing in Europe and is quite incredible at first. I think it was Martin who mentioned it before we got here, that the people are a different kind of friendly, but that didn’t stop me from being pleasantly surprised by it.
Something that will stay with me for a long time was the night skies. With zero light pollution in the outback they were just incredible. Every night when stepping out of the van I was transfixed by the views above my head. It was truly something magical, all the stars, the meteorites (coincidentally our visit conisidered with a meteorite shower) the occasional satellite and depending on the cycle the brilliant illumination from the moon that normally goes unnoticed. In addition to the night skies we absorbed, daily we witnessed beautiful sunrise and sunsets that seemed very distinct (much like anyone who has seen a sunset in Asia describes it as different to back home). I can’t really pinpoint the difference, but the wonderful hues and pink haze opposite side of sunset really stood out.
Sunrise, sunset and the stars are on offer daily, but when was the last time you saw any one of the three in one day. The daily unobstructed views really were something special. Oh, and another thing, it all goes the wrong way! The stars, the sun, the moon all very disorientating.
Several people thought we were crazy trying to cram in so much with so little time. We knew it would involve a lot of driving given the distances between places in this colossal country, but for me that really is part of seeing it. You can’t get a feel for Australia’s size any other way and to emphasize that I am going to quote Señor Bryson as he is better with words than me (which probably has something to do with why he sells more books than I do).
“Australia truly does exist on a unique scale. It’s not just a question of brute distance - though goodness knows there is plenty of that - but of incredible emptiness that lies within all distance. Five hundred miles here is not like 500 miles anywhere elsewhere, and the only way to appreciate that is to cross the country at ground level.”
It seems so long ago and quite irrelevant now but our week in Sydney before moving onto New Zealand still deserves a mention. We arrived back in Sydney a day before Dan and Holly who’d returned to the UK for 3 weeks. Once again they graciously put us up / put up with us for over a week while we tried to sell Matilda, our trusty camper van.
Although she’d treated us well for some 11,000 km, you may recall she gave us problems leading up and during our time in Melbourne. I’d managed to fix that but she was still not running perfectly. We were planning on selling the van in the Kings Cross Backpackers Car Market, a novel idea, whereby travellers advertise and (if all goes well) sell their vehicles. The sellers pay for the privilege of parking their car / van in the multi story car park and wait for the punters to come along.
Punters get to see a selection of vehicles with recent safety reports and get advice from staff while sellers get a selection of interested buyers, often fresh off the plane willing to pick something up as quickly as possible.
When buying we’d seen some pretty rubbish vans in the car market so ended up buying elsewhere. We ended up paying over our original budget to get something with resale value. That meant good condition, good features, a long Rego (registration document renewable annually) in the state we wished to sell it in.
I took the van off to get the necessary safety report ready to advertise her in the market. Simple enough? Not so. The vehicle failed the safety test. Not only did it fail but it was deemed unfit to drive due to defective brakes. Also at fault was a cracked windscreen, insecure bull bars and a gearbox oil leak.
Add to that the problems of a misfire when cold and we had a large hunk of junk that we had to sell sharpish. Without a garage and my tools it was unrealistic to attempt to repair this all myself so Matilda was taken off to different mechanics to have the different faults looked at. The brakes were repaired ($400), the windscreen was replaced ($260) and the misfire was suspected to be caused by different things by different mechanics. A faulty fuel pump, ignition faults, a clogged carburetor and burnt valves were all sighted as the cause. I gave the van an ignition service (well needed as the plug leads were cracking up) and an overdue oil change ($150) which improved the performance problems but did not eradicate them.
On recommendation from Andrew at Total Car Care, the guy who fixed the brakes and general top bloke (he was more than happy to discuss with me what he thought what might be at fault, loan me tools and dispose of my oil and filters), I took the van along to a carburetter expert who spent some time on it. He immediately discovered that the inlet manifold was leaking despite my efforts to fix this at Michael’s and he informed me that this particular model was renowned for the fault. He did however, manage to get it running much better by stripping, cleaning and rebuilding the carburettor fixing several broken components as he went. This got the van running well enough to sell. Not perfect but no worse than anything else of its age.
On top of all that we wanted it clean. Advice repeated all over states that by spending some time and effort on cleaning up your vehicle will add value to it. That meant lots of cleaning and polishing, both inside and out. It took ages, (more than three days washing, rubbing and polishing) but the results were fantastic. It came up so much better and although we didn’t know it at the time it stood out in the market as a result. Nobody else there had put the effort it with some really grotty vehicles about and it truly added value..
Look at that shine!
With all that done all we needed to do was take it along to the market at wait, but not before I managed to run out of fuel, get an air lock in the fuel lines and drain both batteries trying to start it again. A call to the NRMA had someone out to me in twenty minutes who was able to get Matilda running again.
Now if you’ve made it this far you can tell that I didn’t have many chances to relax and get away from the van. One such opportunity however happened early on when Michael, Antoon and Willem, who had started their road trip, stopped off in Sydney. I was exhausted and wasn’t really in the mood to go into town but felt obliged given how close the guys were and having not seen Willem since, James’ wedding over a year ago. I did however make it into town, and boy was I glad I did. I had a great night out with three thoroughly nice ex work colleagues.
I chatted with Antoon about several common points of interest, the biggest of which had to be photography. He loved working on the van too so I might even make a mechanic out of him. Willem is a big traveller. I remember having had good talks with him in Madrid and receiving loads of recommendations for trekking in that region. It was great to see him again and really pleasing to receive so much interest and enthusiasm from him about our current trip. Michael, I hardly knew in Madrid. He left less than six months after I arrived and with over 120 new faces I had very little contact with him. I was surprised at how laid back and friendly he is. I really should have figured as some of my ex colleagues who I hold in high esteem have similar opinions of Michael, and possibly more telling, some characters who I found impossible to get on with Michael was of the same opinion. It was a real pleasure to get to know him better and get to spend time with them in Sydney. We even managed to watch Wales loose the Rugby, much to the disgust of Gareth who was watching it live on the other side of the world. Much like the previous Saturday in Melbourne we left them to it at around 1am.
To the Market
Having payed our fees and sorted out the paper work we parked Matilda in the car park next to another pop top van. This was originally listed for $5500, but they had lowered the price to $4900. Upon seeing ours they dropped it further to $3900.
The backpackers car market it a pretty interesting place. Full of travellers trying to flog on their wagons it can be very sociable. It can also be very boring and stressful for some. Imagine sitting in an underground car park for a week watching all the cars around you sell while no one shows interest in your vehicle. The place has character. Looking around the walls all sorts of notes and graffiti have been scribbled by bored, unhappy and happy sellers. It made for entertaining reading. Another unwritten rule was that upon completing the sale of your vehicle you buy beers for the rest of the sellers. Quite a cool arrangement.
Apart from the night out mentioned above, sitting in the car market was my first real opportunity to relax. I had nothing more to fix or do on the van, just sit back and wait. After a mere 30 minutes things were actually looking promising. Having seen the others on offer we set the price at $5500. Gleaming in the, er, fluorescent strip lights, pop top, stove and fridge all on show. Nothing else there was so well equip ed. The member of staff on duty also conferred that our asking price was fair.
Expecting to be in the market for quite some time I started a 1200 page Tom Clancy novel wondering weather I’d finish the book before the van was sold. In fact, I didn’t even make it to page 100 before the new owners took it off our hands!
On day 1, within 30 minutes, we had two vaguely interested groups. Two Swiss girls were very interested but had no money. It was somewhere between Switzerland and Australia… Three young English lads were interested but it was a bit above their budget and they didn’t fancy cramming all three of them into the double bed.
On day 2 after placing ads in many of the backpacker accommodation in town some English girls called up and came to have a look. They liked what they saw and asked if they could bring someone knowledgeable along to take a look. The English lads from Day 1 returned to buy our Israeli neighbours’ Mazda pop top for $3400.
Day 3, the English girls test drove it and offered us $5000. Espe was not having it after all of the effort and money we had put into repairing it. Later in the day a Russian / Canadian couple offered $4500 cash which he claimed he had “in his pocket right here right now” (they were to call back later with a more serious offer, unfortunately for them too late) and then along came an English couple. Showing initial interest and indecisiveness (I had a good feeling about them). They returned within an hour to test drive Matilda. After some negotiation we settled on $5400 on the proviso that I had the gearbox oil leak fixed ($250). Having agreed on this on a Friday afternoon it was actually Monday morning before I could get the work done and hand over the keys. Doing so was an immense relief.
We advertised Matilda for much more than we paid for her, and actually got only $100 less than our asking price. I feel it was a fair price after all the hours and money we’d put into it as she was a much better van than when we bought her. Hopefully she will give her new owners a quality home for their own adventure.
We were actually very lucky, being able to almost cover the cost of our repairs in the sale. A very rare thing in these circles. I had to feel sorry for a Belgian chap in the car market who had been there 12 days and possibly still is there. Trying to sell a tired old Mitsubishi with a bad oil leak. He had paid for 25 hours labour for head gasket replacement at the cost of $1600 (more than the cost of our rental for NZ) and will have to sell the van for way less than what he paid for it. Like I said, I think we were lucky but the research and hunting for a good deal from the beginning along with the efforts to get it in as good a condition as possible to sell it paid off, although both were stressful times. Not keyboard smashing stressful, but knowing that the sale of the van was our only source of money for the remainder of the trip you might enable you to appreciate why.
Was it worth the stress? Definitely. We could have hired a van instead but if we had we would have been close to $3000 worse off and we would probably be back home by now.
The attentive amongst you will know that I’m way behind with this blog. Something to do with enjoying myself too much to sit down and write. Either that or laziness. When I do something though, I do like to do it properly, and for my sake as much as yours I am trying to make this blog as complete as I can and that includes trying to keep it in chronological order. That said, something happened to me a few days ago that I just have to share with you ahead of time, so bear with me as we jump from Melbourne, Australia to Queenstown, New Zealand.
Retiring to bed in our camper van after a night of fantastic jazz as part of the annual Queenstown Jazzfest I fell asleep rapidly, assisted no doubt by the few tasty beverages I enjoyed at the concert. An hour and a half later I awoke to great confusion (again assisted by the earlier beers). With the van rocking Espe asked “what’s that?”. At first I assumed that there were strong winds rocking the van, but in the wind you get all the usual howling and whining as the air forces its way around the van. At this moment there was silence outside and the rocking was far too regular and much stronger than what the wind could do. The rocking was so strong in fact that the cupboard door was banging and the glasses rattling.
I really couldn’t figure it out, but then my mind started working and I figured it had to be some youths playing a practical joke by rocking the van. Yet shouting and turning on the lights did nothing to perturb them. Just a tad frightened to confront them I sat there, still confused only for the rocking to subside… Silence. No footsteps, no voices. There was no-one outside.
So what the hell was it? I remember being so confused. Nothing that my brain could present would explain what had just happened. Then Espe commented “podría haber sido un terremoto?” Of course! An Earthquake. With the unknown that was eating away at me combined with the thought of an axe wielding psychopath rocking our van I was immensely relieved to have everything fall into place. Relieved to know that it was only an earthquake.
Only an Earthquake! Some of the worlds biggest natural disasters can be attributed to earthquakes. This is nature at its most dangerous. Tectonic plates jostling for position. The stuff that mountains are made from. Our quake measured 6.7 on the Richter scale, which although small compared to the quakes that hit the headlines, believe me was certainly strong enough. Very few people slept through this, close to the epicentre huge boulders were dislodged from mountains and according to insurance claims over $100,000 worth of damage was done.
Of course I didn’t know this at the time. So, there I was content that the world made sense again (holding Espe who was, quite rationally and the opposite of me, more afraid for knowing what it was) when the ground started shaking again. Not as strongly this time and for much less time. Our first aftershock. Apparently aftershocks can continue for weeks. We’ve already had four but I slept through two of them and I was on a mountain bike hurtling down a mountain during another. Getting back to sleep was pretty tough. I was dumbstruck by what had happened, going over and over it in my head, in absolute awe of it all.
Just writing this post has me excited, on edge, in awe… No I can’t actually find the words to describe how I feel. One thing I can say is I feel very lucky to have experienced this, and without wanting to be melodramatic, lucky to be unscathed. Certainly another story for the grand children.
As a kid I loved the earthquake simulator in London’s Geological museum. That had given me an idea what it might be like but I must say it was nothing compared to the real thing which was, erm, quite unreal. It is such a bizarre sensation, the violent shaking of the one thing that you know to be solid and unmoving (28 years on this planet had shown me that), yet those few long seconds turned that around completely. Terra Firma? Yeah, right.
I used to work with both of these chaps in Madrid. Michael moved back to Australia about 4 years ago and Antoon, by another coincidence of timing, was visiting from Holland. They were waiting on Willem, another ex-colleague who was going to join them on a road trip up the east coast.
Michael was kind enough to put us up, prepare a multitude of steak on the barbie and show us round town on the Saturday evening. On top of that, having just about made it to their (very nice) house in a rather sick camper van, Michael allowed us to set about attempting to fix it on his driveway. Legend.
The van was misfiring and backfiring severely. The exhaust manifold gasket was leaking, an indication that the inlet manifold could well be leaking in a similar manner which would explain the current problems. Even if that was not the cause of the problem the exhaust leak needed to be fixed so there was no avoiding it. With encouragement from a hungover Michael and offers of help from Antoon (also hungover) I set to it.
Due to sourcing parts, tools and materials it took us Sunday and Monday morning to to the job but the result was a van that was running much much better. Not perfect, but enough to get us to Sydney at least. A big thank you to Antoon for helping out, something I think he enjoyed, making a change from torquing CPUs on big servers.
I must express my gratitude to Michael and Carole for putting us up, making us feel so welcome (something helped by their son, Nico, who was great fun), sourcing some tools and putting up with me fixing the van on their premises (something that I’m sure my mother will sympathise with). Dankjewel / Merci beaucoup!
Our time in the South was rushed, cramming in a lot into a short space, much like this post in fact.
Heading south from the Red Centre we covered many miles of nothingness. This was in fact the most barren section of the outback that we covered, with what limited vegetation there was standing less than knee high.
Gradually as we approached Coober Pedy we were greeted by loads of random high piles of dirt and ancient looking mining machinery scattered about the place. Coober Pedy claims to be Australia’s Opal capital, but I was surprised to learn that there were no big corporations here, but instead mere individuals and teams digging in random places looking for the precious stones. There are open mine shafts all over the place, all just waiting for that careless tourist to fall into them, along with the afore mentioned piles of mined out soil.
A fascinating place to look around (the Old Timers Mine was a particular highlight) but I wouldn’t want to live here. The surroundings are so desolate and unforgiving and there is a very rough feeling to the town, arising I guess from the manual labour workers attracted to the place and from the many different backgrounds from which they come. I read somewhere that right now there are 80 languages are represented by the permanent population of the town. The mining here all seems very random and inefficient, relying on luck more than anything else, and one can’t help but wonder how much of the precious opal is still out there hidden.
Before leaving town I was giving some thought to the dates for the flights for the remainder of the trip. I knew we needed to push back our flight from Sydney to New Zealand and for some reason I was convinced that current our flight was scheduled for September 8th. It was originally on the 28th of August but I was sure I’d already changed. I was however mistaken. Checking the tickets I realised that we’d missed our flight. Bugger.
I called Air New Zealand to check where we stood, only to find out that they’d cancelled all of the other Air New Zealand flights as we missed the first and that they were unable to reinstate them. STA travel weren’t much more of a help, saying that it was now in control of the airlines, and I should speak to Virgin. Nearest office? Not very close.
From the barren wasteland surrounding Coober Pedy, within half a day we staring into lush green pastoral land. If it wasn’t for the clear blue sky this could have been England. Not before crossing some impressive salt lakes though (which it turned out were used for some testing of some nasty American “devices”).
We took a quick stop in Adelaide, while searching for airline offices, which seems a nice city with lots of green open parkland. When leaving I managed to cover the entire Adelaide Grand Prix circuit (driving the parts on public roads and walking the start/finish paddock area) which reminded me not only of misspent youth playing Microprose Grand Prix 4 on the PC but also of the controversial Hill / Schumacher accident and for that matter Hakkinen’s crash that put him in a coma. Amazing how different it looks now and if it wasn’t for a few painted kerbs and painted track lines you wouldn’t even know it was there.
Leaving Adelaide we headed for the Great Ocean Drive, another highly acclaimed tourist route, and understandably so. This wonderfully twisty road covers over 150km of beautiful coastline with the added sights of the heavily eroded limestone cliffs which has given rise to some stunning rock formations.
We limped into Melbourne on the Saturday with the Van not running particularly well. Things were getting a bit rushed as we wanted to be in Sydney by Sunday or Monday at the latest meaning that our time here was going to be limited, or so we thought.
In the morning, after discovering the airline offices closed, we took a brief look around the city and went to see the lovely Albert Park, home to the current Australia F1 track. Of course being the motor sport nerd that I am how could I resist the opportunity to drive round it in my very own, erm, no expense spared track day weapon.
I could give Alonso a run for his money in this
Oh, and Niki, I think that puts me back in the lead for number of tracks driven.
Heading out of the centre towards the suburbs, the van just got worse and worse. What started off as an occasional misfire under load at low revs turned into regular misfires throughout the rev range along with loud and disturbing backfires. The van was coughing and spluttering, struggling to get up hills much to the annoyance of, well pretty much anyone in the vicinity. Not good at all…
I never thought I’d see my name printed in the same paragraph as Steven Fry’s. I know my writing is improving (although my spelling and grammer isn’t) but this is an honor.
What am I on about? Just another free plug in the hyperlink tennis match that Alan and I seem to have going on at the moment, alan-wright.blogspot.com and while I’m at it another free emotion
Before taking a good look at a detailed map of Australia I was under the impression that Alice Springs and Uluru (Ayres Rock) were very close to each other. I was surprised to learn that this big rock was actually 500 km away, but then I suppose that in Australian Outback terms that is actually just down the road.
It was well worth the journey though and the lonely barren 500k just served to add to the feeling of how remote it really is (boo to all those who fly in).
Despite the fact that it is just a big rock, one cannot help but be awed by it. It is truly colossal, as looking at climbers through binoculars are testament to. I didn’t climb out of respect to the traditional (aboriginal) owners request and beliefs, although I would have loved to. To make up for it we walked around it instead. All 8km of it, in the searing winter sun, despite being flat it was hard work but worth it seeing all the bizarre effects erosion has had on the rock.
At sunset is when the rock really comes into it’s own with the hue changing by the minute. This is the best time for photography as could be seen by the hundreds of cameras all pointed at the rock from the sunset viewing area. I got some good shots (interestingly long exposures after the sun has set give more of a red hue than those taken in the setting sun light) and took a sequence of shots to make a stop gap animation. I’ll post that once I’ve created it…
In yet another coincidence with timing, we witnessed the moon rise behind Uluru only to see it halfway into an eclipse. The following hour and a half provided us with a full lunar eclipse. The chances of actually being in the right place at the right time to see a lunar eclipse are slim, but to see one as the moon rose over Uluru, by chance, was really pretty special.
The following day we went to the Olgas (or Kata Tjuta to give them their aboriginal name) which is a collection of huge rocks in the form domes, identical to Uluru in colour, structure and size. Lesser known but actually more impressive, if that is possible. We did two walks into and around them and along with the stunning views we were treated to sights such as two Kangaroos feeding in Walpa Gorge and a few smaller beasts too.
Leaving the sunset viewing area, after talking with an Indian chap who had made the trip especially to photograph the eclipse that we knew nothing of (you should have seen his face when we told him of our Rickshaw Run exploits), we were treated to a stunning view of a huge golden moonrise next to Uluru followed by a close encounter with three camels crossing the highway in front of me.
Day three in the Red Centre (after an emu tried to eat our van) we headed over to Kings Canyon, a mere 300 kilometres away, which I have to say, for me, was the most impressive of the three geological wonders in the “area”. We attended another one of these free guided ranger walks up the canyon learning as we went and spotting some wonderful wildlife.
While returning to the car park we bumped into a couple that we’d seen at various places over the last previous days including on the Uluru ranger walk. Some people rush in, see Uluru and rush out again (their loss) but others take time to see Uluru, Kata Tjuta and Kings Canyon and unsurprisingly it was the people with that itinerary who we saw repeatedly (including a Brazilian couple who are driving around the world in a Land Rover : www.mundoporterra.com.br). After a brief chat with Tony and Alison in the canyon we met up with them later that night at the campsite. A lovely, friendly, intelligent couple who have followed the government ranger training and now run eco tours, we spent the evening discussing all sorts of things including getting the low down on the current conservation plight in Tasmania. A true pleasure to meet them and an educational experience at the same time.
The following day we tackled the longer strenuous rim walk where you climb to the top of the canyon, walk along one edge, drop down into some really peaceful and beautiful pools near the start of the canyon, then return on the other side. The views, rock formations, sheer drops and wildlife, once again were breath taking. This truly is one amazing country.
Note the people at the top left for scale.
Oh, and the red colour, that comes from all the oxidised iron minerals in the rock, so yes, they are rusting!
Leaving Kakadu we figured that we could just about manage the 1300km to Alice Springs in two days if we really pushed it. The reason? To make the Henley on Todd Regatta. It was a mission of a drive and although 1300km may not sound that much, I can tell you it is in a 27 year old car (with only four gears) when you cannot drive in the dark (the risk of hitting a Kangaroo or Wallaby is just too high).
Sharing the driving we made it, but not before I made a nice modification to the front end of a Subaru Outback. Thankfully the zero excess insurance had that covered, 260 bucks well spent!
Not only did we make it, but we even managed to stop of and see “The Boulders” (they are good at this naming lark, the Aussies), a stunning collection of huge round red boulders precariously balanced pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Caused by the impressive effects of erosion some were split clean in half.
Alice Spring’s annual Regatta takes place on the river Todd with kayak racing, rowing, four man, six man and maxi yacht racing along with a whole host of other water borne activities. The only difference between this and your average regatta is that the Todd river is dry. All the events are run on the sand river bed. With typical Aussie spirit this is all just one big fun event and audience participation is an integral part of it. All good fun and entertaining.
Bath tub dingy racing.
Single Kayaks.
Two man rowing race.
Four man yacht race.
Life Guards to the rescue…
Four man “rowing”.
The grand finale was a battle between The Vikings, pirates and the navy. A spectacular water and flour fight that was without a doubt the most entertaining part of the day. Apparently the Vikings won. All very amusing.
Although pretty tired, at the end of the day I was really glad we made the great effort to get here in time for another insight into Aussie culture. Top marks to Gareth for letting us know the date of the event.
