Victoria to new South Wales

The Victoria heatwave. Days 109-122

Our 6 days in the campervan turned out to be very comfortable – although if we ever bought one it would be just a little longer. We explored the Yarra Range hills and the Dandenung Hills to the north-east of Melbourne and enjoyed some superb walks which were pretty devoid of people despite it being the peak holiday season

Returning the camper, collecting the 'new' hire car and fitting in an evening session at the Australian Open to see Andy Murray required all of Meg's organisational skills (as we are no longer able to carry with us all our baggage). However, it was well worth going to the tennis which had been one of our hopes for the trip.

Murray in the Open

I should tell you a little about our car. It was a 1990 Toyota Camry which we found via yellow pages and lots of phone calls. The cost of two months hire was about £500 compared with about £2000 for a normal car hire, but the car is not exactly in mint condition. With 277000 kilometers on the clock and, clearly having experienced a car-cleaning regime that rivals our own, it is unlikely to ever be stolen – and if we bang into something it won't show.

So we set off on our journey towards Brisbane with some concerns about vehicle reliability – heading for Bairnsdale on the South-East coast of Victoria. At 35 degrees it soon became apparent that the air-con did not work. We began to feel a little concerned and as perspiration dripped off Meg, and sweat ran down my neck, we thought about the temperatures in NSW and Queensland. Meg, adopting her assertive character phoned our friendly car-hire man, Michael, who confirmed that the a/c didn't work but then we never asked for a/c. Meg's answer of “well we assumed that a/c was standard on a Camry of that year” was wonderful (I should point out that Meg's knowledge of car specifications is one of her weaker subject areas in Pub quizzes). Michael had to agree but we were still in the same boat (or car).

About 30 minutes later Michael rang back with the offer of another Camry which did have a/c, available in a few days time. “The bodywork isn't as good – not that your one has good bodywork” suggested that there might be other issues to consider but we decided to go with it, although it meant returning to Melbourne (350 km).

We spent two days at Bairnsdale and found a magnificent walk in the Mitchell River National Park, and then hit the Road for Mebourne yet again.

The Mitchell River

We used the two days to the best advantage - tickets for the Australian Open were still available and our hotel could fit us in (only 400m from the Rod Laver arena – like finding a TraveLodge at Wimbledon) so we decided to blow some of the savings on the car hire by going to the tennis for two more sessions. Our first session saw Murray lose (on the big screen inside the ground), Tsonga beat Blake, Nadal destroy Gonzales, Safina beat Dokic and best of all we saw Federer utterly humiliate Del Potro. Watching Federer was wonderful - his poise and movement were just remarkable – but the Dokic game had all the atmosphere. She is Australian so it was like watching Henman at Wimbledon.

Tuesday we picked up the 'new' car. Michael was right – the body was not as good, but the a/c/ did work (only on the highest fan setting – but thats all we needed). In fact the car seemed pretty good all round for a vehicle that had travelled 360000km. As we set off on Wednesday morning, along the Hume Highway towards Sydney we began to pick up radio reports of a massive heatwave that was due to hit Victoria over the next few days. Even with a/c the car was warm and outside the air soon reached temperatures that are similar to those you get in Death Valley. In fact the temperature in the shade reached 44/45 degrees over the next 4 days, dropping to about 25-30 at night. Camping in a tent is great but not at those temperatures! We once again opted for air-conditioned cabins.

For those of you who know our feelings about global warming might well wonder why we aren't simply going with the flow and coping with the high temperatures. If thats the case you probably have never experienced extreme temperatures without air conditioning. A/c is just as vital as heat is at low temperatures – and we have our central heating on in the winter just like everyone else. What is interesting is that a/c is needed just at the time when the sun is brightest and it would seem that solar power (photovoltaics) would be a really good source of electricity in these circumstances. Perhaps one day these a/c units will only be sold with the attached solar array to power them.

So in Melbourne over the next few days the heat wave reached levels never before experienced, bush fires raged in the South Eastern suburbs and there were lots of power outages. The Casino lift stopped working and Federer had to walk down 30 floors to get out. Good job he is in reasonable condition.

Fire is an ever present concern in the summer here and fire-fighters, most of whom are volunteers, have a status similar to lifeboat crews in the UK. They do an amazing job and many lose their lives each year. The land becomes so dry that it takes only one match to set off a fire that can destroy thousands of square miles of grassland and forest. The trees being Eucalyptus produce oils and the heat of the fire creates a cloud of flammable oils high in the forest canopy. The flames can then jump from tree to tree at tree-top height. I still don't understand how they stop the fires and why Australia is not completely burned down. You often see the results of bush fires from previous years, where recovery is still taking place. In some cases it takes 50 years for a forest to recover, in others only a few.

During the heatwave we tended to go high up in the mountains where the temperatures were about 10 degrees lower (only 33!) and walk there in the mornings before the heat reached its peak. So we headed into what is called the Alpine Region of North Victoria which becomes the Snowy Mountains just over the border in New South Wales. This had been part of our original thinking but was an essential survival strategy with the temperature over 40 degrees in the valleys. Perhaps we were the only ones foolhardy enough to do anything, but we rarely saw anyone else walking and were rewarded for our efforts with views across the Great Dividing Range that were utterly stunning.

Occasionally in the afternoons we would plonk ourselves by an “alpine” lake and swim or read our books, (if we could get some shade).

Mount Buffallo

Lake Catani

Falls Creek

Rocky Valley

The routes in the mountains are spectacular – as good as anything we have come across in Europe or North America. Considering the low usage (there are usually empty) and the distances involved, the upkeep must be very expensive.

Workmen appear spontaneously when trees fall across the road ...

We continued our wild-life adventures, spotting a wild puma in Porepunka.

The first sighting of a Puma in Victoria

A little later, by the time it had reached us it turned out to be just a large moggie!

What was interesting was how much larger it seemed when viewed from a distance – perhaps that might explain some of the puma sightings around Gloucestershire.

Another remarkable encounter ... in the car park in Thredbo. Jeff threw a stick at an obnoxious crow that had just pecked our shopping bag. The next morning we returned to the car to find the most amazing volume of bird-droppings – possibly the largest in Australia – covering every available space on the roof, bonnet, boot and windows. Fortunately there was no possibility of it damaging the paintwork any further.

The climax of our walking was to reach the top of Mount Kosciuszko, the highest peak in Australia. It turned out to be one of the easiest mainly because we took the chairlift up to 1935m and so only had to gain another 300m elevation. Nevertheless, thats like bagging a Munro and it was about 30 degrees.

Mount Kosciuszko

The trip also gave us the opportunity to use the highest toilet in Australia – not many people can claim they have used the highest toilet in a continent.

Mt Kosciuszko toilets

Camping in Victoria

Monday 11^th Jan - Day 203

It is 2.00 a.m and we are in the tent. There is a strange sound outside which sounds vaguely like rain falling but nothing is landing on the tent. I have a look outside and see that it is only the site maintenance team (about 50 large kangaroos) that are plucking up the longer tufts of grass and converting them into small black cylinders.

We are about 150 miles north-west of Melbourne. It is hot – 29 degrees today - and perfect for camping. The camp is full of wildlife - white cockatoos (correllas) who run the site, red and blue parrots that seem to be in charge but only until the correllas swarm in and take over.

There are thousands of butterflies – but only three different species as far as I can tell.

Our camp site is just outside Halls Gap in the Grampians, a small group of mountains that rise up to about 4000ft. We are five days in to our first stint of camping having bought about £200 worth of camping gear. We hired a car and drove west from Melbourne along the Great Ocean Road. With some trepidation as we had not camped for about 8 years and then only in very warm conditions in the south of France. We were uncertain as to whether our old bones would cope.

Our first night was very frustrating as every camp-site in Torquay (yes you will recognise a few place names) was full and we ended up in a cabin. It turned out to be a good decision as the cabin was very good and it gave us a chance to sort out our 'gear'. Torquay is the surfing capital of the world' – almost all Australian towns have some claim to fame such as this. For example, Kojunnup in West Australia was the 'first shire to have 1 million sheep'. Anyway, Torquay boasts the invention of the wet suit – I bet you didn't know that. Intriguingly, the inhabitants – as represented at the local supermarket – hardly looked like surfers. More like bouyancy aids.

Along the coast a little, past Anglesey, is the Cape Otway State Park where we found a very isolated site – just a few cabins and tents and a lot of Koalas in the trees above us.

Bimbi Camp Site

Koala on Beach

We also managed to do some hiking. A 12km walk along part of the Great Ocean Walk took us up to Airlie Inlet (not at all like coastal paths in the UK but very pleasant).

Airlie Inlet

We saw only one small snake – although other walkers said they had seen a big 'red belly' (I don't know what that is either but it sounds worrying). However, the national statistics show only a handful of deaths through snake bites in the last decade so it is hardly a big risk.

Port Campbell on the Great Ocean Road

Our journey along the coast took us past the 12 Apostles. These 13 (?) limestone stacks, isolated from the cliffs as the cliffs erode, are an outstanding visual experience. As ever, the photos can't really so it justice but give a flavour of what you see.

Our first full day here in the Grampians has been so good that we have booked two more nights. We hiked up to The Pinnacle this morning – setting off early before the sun was too strong. Stunning views but the walk up the creek to the top was equally spectacular. Every bit as good as walking in

Yosemite – and apart from the view point at the top, which is near a car park, equally empty.

The Pinnacle in the Grampians

18^th January

After another wonderful hike up Mount Rosea we moved on from the Grampians. We were pretty exhausted by the temperature at the end of the walk – 38 degrees – and a state-wide fire ban, with advice not to hike in the bush persuaded us to move on.

Mount Rosea

Fire is an ever present danger here although it is an essential feature in the life cycle of the forests. The Grampians were devastated by fire only 3 years ago yet the forest is once again full of large healthy trees. The nature of the eucalypts is such that the bark is burnt but the inner core of the tree survives and new limbs grow rapidly from the old trunk. Some trees do die in the fire but this only gives more light to these remaining.

Our journey to Castlemaine (no evidence of the 4X brewery if it ever existed), took us through Moyleston, a small town of about 200 people but with the claim to fame of being the birth place of Aussie Rules Football. In Maryborough the car's temperature gauge reached 44 degrees. Contrary to popular belief it is not just the English that state the obvious regarding the weather. Australians rarely miss a chance to tell you that 'it's a hot one today' even though the perspiration is running down your neck. We decided to an air conditioned cabin. Ours is more camping for softies with a limited range of suitable climatic conditions that exclude ridiculously high temperatures

We are now back in the hills but this time the Yarra Range north-east of Melbourne, and now with a campervan that we have rented for a week.

We have this fantasy that we might one day buy a campervan back home and drive along country roads all over Europe at low speeds irritating all other road users, so we thought we might try it out here.

We are on our second night and so far it has been pretty good. Although our 'van is quite small (2 persons with toilet and shower) it has all the essentials and thankfully we have not yet experience any campervan culture in the campsites. Our fear was always that 'experienced' campervanners would share their concerns for 'the reciprocated stop valve used in the grey-water by-pass system' (or something equally boring)

19th January

Today we reached Maryville and Lake Mountain high up in the Yarra Ranges. Wonderful butterflies, exceptional views. This whole area is the water catchment for Melbourne and closed tot he public - except for a few access road and trails.

Tasmania

Tasmania


For the benefit of non-Australian readers we ought to start by explainng that inhabitants of Tasmania are called Taswegians and have two heads. There are endless jokes about Tasmania which are akin to the jokes about Wales or Forest of Dean in England, many of you may know.


Don emigrated to Tassie as a £10 Pom in 1947. We spent the two weeks being enchanted by the stories of his life the in the 50s and 60s with tales of daring-do - shooting crocodiles and kangaroos for a living, of cutting sugar cane in Queensland and all sorts of outback adventures that seemed to be around for young men of that time. With Gaelene, his wife, he bought some land, partially cleared it of forest and set up a small bush farm, and the tales of managing a small farm also brought with it tales of outback living that would make both a good novel and a film.

Until they retired a few years ago, swapping the farm for a delightful modern house, they pumped their own water from a stream, generated their own electricity, raised various livestock depending on the vagaries of the market and were self-sufficient in a way that would probably be the envy of many, although the realities of the life were that it was 'bloody hard work'. We never ceased to enjoy the tales and hope that one day Don will record them.
With “the rellies” we had a traditional Christmas with a full roast dinner on Christmas Day (Gae's cooking is legendary) - and all the trimmings of a northern hemisphere Christmas with the addition of sunshine. Boxing Day was spent at the local sports carnival where the events were running, cycling and wood-chopping.



















Wood chopping

I can't see the latter becoming an Olympic event, but it was impressive to see just how quickly those fellas could cut through a tree trunk with an axe.





















The Boxing Day Carnival in Latrobe

We toured round parts of Tasmania that we had not previously visited.




















Dismal Swamp





















Penguin - yes, that really is the name of a town





















The Nut at Stanley


The countryside is incredibly pretty, very different from any other parts of Australia that we know, and described as “English”. It is more like England but still very different. The crops are different. We saw fields of opium poppies being grown legally for heroin and morphine production - a major Tasmanian export - as well as pyrethrum for manufacturing pesticide, alongside the fields of cereal and dairy land.



















Alum Gorge


But Tasmania is famous for its trees and we spent some time learning more about trees and forestry from Don, who had also been a logger and tree plantation manager for much of his life. There is a lot of controversy about the development of blue gum plantations to provide wood chips for paper. However when you see some of the magnificent old eucalypts and old Huon pines it is awe-inspiring and we enjoyed some good bush walking through old woodlands.





















Virgin forest in the Huon Valley


The English theme continues with place names – we went to Lulworth for New Years Day, having stayed at Margate the day before, and sailing home from Devonport, up the Mersey river. We also visited Weymouth, Bridport and Launceston. There must have been many homesick emigrees in the early days.





















Richmond Bridge

We managed to get to Hobart and have a look at the boats from the famous Sydney to Hobart ocean race – another sporting event not covered by British TV.





















Wild Oats XI - the race winner


We also visited the Taste of Tasmania - a festival of tasmanian food and drink (yummy)




















'Taste of Tasmania'

And we watched a lot of sport covered by Australian TV, notably the Australian v South Africa Test match for cricket. As this is being written Australia is 2 down in the series and there is a huge national debate about whether to sack the captain, or whether the selectors are to blame for the teams poor performance and whether more money should be invested in cricket academies; it has felt just like home, but is an experience that Australians are not used to.





















We sailed back to Melbourne on the Spirit of Tasmania somewhat heavier than on our outward trip but recharged for new adventures in the outback of Victoria and New South Wales.

Adelaide to Melbourne

Adelaide to Melbourne

We woke up on our train to see a flat blonde countryside – the pale wheat in the huge fields stretched on for miles with no trees or houses in sight. the land looked parched. The sky hung a silvery grey above it. We arrived in Adelaide along with the rain. This was the first rain in South Australia for 9 months – and we, the rain gods, had brought it. And it rained and rained – over 25mm – until the drains could no longer cope and the roads flooded. (We found out the next day that the average December rainfall was 26mm).

Dodging between shops,museums and the library we managed to limit our exposure but it was difficult to agree when people said what wonderful weather it was and how they hoped it would continue for the next few days. Eventually we picked up our hire car and drove around the wet city exploring romantic places such as Hackney and Stepney which did not much resemble their London namesakes.



















Not like the Hackney Jeff remembers as a boy


The rain stopped by the next morning and out came the sun.



















The riverside walk in Adelaide





















An aboriginal painting session in the park

Adelaide is a truly beautiful city, with the centre surrounded by parks – 47% of the city is parkland. Traffic is light, the roads are wide and the city has a feeling of grace about it. On the Saturday, a week before Christmas the shopping district was less crowded than Cirencester on a Saturday morning. The city is also surrounded by wonderful hills, only 15 minutes away.




















The view from Mount Lofty

The Adelaide Hills are gently rolling countryside, devoid of towns of any significance and adorned with vineyards, farms, forest and the odd lake.

We then took off to explore the Fleurieu peninsula. this is a small tongue of land which is gentle hills and woodlands. From a distance the hills look as if they are made from quilted velvet – soft and pale silvery brown. (The land still desperately needed more rain.) Our meandering down the coast led us eventually to Victor Harbor. Our friends had told us to keep away from here as it was 'like Blackpool'.



















Victor Harbor (1)






















Victor Harbor (2)


With its gorgeous beach, brilliant sunshine, and quaint 'Australian Small Town' feel it is hard to imagine how anyone could see Blackpool here. Anyway there was no tower. We were so taken by the place that we decided to spend a few days there.
We hired bikes and cycled along the 35km Encounter Bay cycle track to Goolwa at the mouth of the Murray River.



















Victor Harbor - Encounter Bay (Blackpool?)

Encounter Bay is named after an historic meeting between Flinders and Baudin (two famous explorers) who met on the Bluff' at one end of the bay. We failed to find out what they said or did, or why it was important, but Australians have a habit of attaching significance to such things.
After a lot of walking and exploring the area we left feeling that is was a delightful town and well worth the visit.
We returned to Adelaide to resume our roles as 'travellers' again, this time on the Overlander train to Melbourne. This is only 12 hours (see how our perceptions of train journeys has changed since we left England?). The train was the best we have been on. We had been told to arrive 70 minutes to book in because it was a 'big train' being near to Christmas. If four carriages and a restaurant car is big, what is the normal train like? (Meg suggests that the Kemble Rail Users Group needs to know this – they would be superheros in Australia).
The journey begins with a very slow climb up out of Adelaide through the forested hills which is like being on a tree-top walk- looking down through the trees to the valley below. You then pass through rolling farmland towards the Murray River. This country is BIG - mile after mile of farmland, small towns, and the occasional level crossing. Intermittent announcements on the p.a. system draw your attention to key tourist information such as the WW2 oil storage tanks, or the towns in which Australian Premiers Sir Robert Menzies and Bob Hawke grew up, and the largest wind farm in the Southern Hemisphere, all delivered in an almost reverential manner. There was one town where the line goes up a slight incline and, years ago, the local youths covered the rails with boot polish. The train lost grip and eventually had to stop. The youths got beaten by their parents not for stopping the train for a day, but for using up all the town's supply of boot polish.




















View from the train


If we liked Adelaide, we loved Melbourne. With unbroken sunshine throughout our three days, we walked everywhere. The buildings are majestic. The 19th Century originals built from stone are intermixed with elegant modern designs, some towering high above the city. The city is set on the Yarra River with sports arenas and lovely parks to the east, and recently developed docklands to the west. There is a Southbank arts centre, and shops, restaurants and cafes abound. A bit like London but smaller, smarter, and sunnier!

We will return to Melbourne in the new year – something we will look forward to.

The Nullarbor

From Perth to Adelaide

The train journey on the India pacific from Perth to Adelaide is one of the great railway journeys of the world It is the only way to see the Nullarbor desert. This enormous plain is inaccessible by sealed road and even the Eyre highway from Perth to Adelaide only skirts the bottom of the Nullarbor Plain.

The journey starts at East Perth station which must be one of the ugliest buildings in the whole city. The full train is about 25 coaches with various grades of traveller – gold, red-sleeper and red non-sleeper. Gold is quite luxurious with two berth compartments and all meals provided while red-sleeper (ours) is quite comfortable but the sleeping accommodation is “compact" and you eat as you need to in the dining car. Non-sleeper tickets are much cheaper but it would be an ordeal to sleep in the seats for two nights that is best avoided if you can afford it.

[Actually the red sleeper is a miracle of modern engineering. It is amazing that it is possible to fit two full size bunks, two small lockers, a washbasin, storage rack into a space measuring two metres by 1.5 metres. Unfortunately they seemed to have forgotten that you also need to put people into that space as well. Luckily we are not too fat. ]

The Indian-Pacific in Perth

We leave at mid-day and the train trundles slowly along the Swan valley, which then becomes the Avon Valley as it rises up onto the ridge of the Darling Range east of Perth. You travel through wooded hillsides until you reach the plain at Northam where the landscape changes into wheatfields bounded by small shrubs and trees. These wheatfields were already harvested in some places but where you could see the full grown wheat it was surprisingly short and not very close packed. Compared with English wheat the yield must be tiny, but then there is so much land that it is no doubt still profitable.

We pass through several small 'towns' usually consisting of just a few homes and a grain storage depot where grain can be loaded onto the trains. The mountains of grain resemble the heaps of sand and gravel from the gravel beds near our home in Cirencester – created by conveyor belts with pointed tops. Road trains – trucks with two or three huge trailers – deliver the grain and are tipped up to ditch their load by the conveyors.

Meckering, Cunderlin, Tammin, Kellerberrin.... sometimes the train stops and we peer out of the window to see if we can identify the reason. Perhaps they are dropping off goods for the local community or we are waiting for the single track to clear ahead. The pace is very leisurely. We are tracking the Great Eastern Highway (a rather fancy name for an almost empty two-lane road) which we flirt with as it as it approaches the track and then moves away again. There is also the water pipe that was built around 1900 to supply water to the Goldfields at Kalgoorlie which doggedly hugs the road. This is a marvel of engineering carrying water 900km from a dam near Perth to a desert town, but without it Kalgoolie would not exist

The Kalgoolie pipeline

As we press on eastwards the landscape slowly changes and the wheat looks even shorter and more sparse. There is more scrub land and soon it is mainly small shrubs and small trees that dominate. By the time we reach Southern Cross - a tiny settlement but with big letters on the map – there is little evidence of farming of any sort.

Southern Cross

Although it is drier here we have been chasing some rain all journey and we finally catch up with it at this point. The track turns north away from the highway and passes through huge salt lakes, some of which are completely empty.

Salt lake in the distance

Salinity is a big problem in Australia. We have seen lakes like these close up and you can find huge salt crystals on the edges. After a while the direction resumes eastward towards Kalgoorlie

The place names on the map seem to have no physical counterparts – or if they do they are too small to recognise. Koolyanobbing, Darrine, Jourdi, Walleroo ... It begins to get dark and there is no light other than the setting sun and eventually we cannot see outside the train at all. At 9:50 we arrive in Kalgoorlie – a real frontier town that we remember well from a previous visit. It is still a major gold mining town with truck-loads of miners arriving on a Saturday night to spend their pay. There is a scheduled 3-hour stop here so we rush off to see if we can find somewhere that will still serve us a meal. Nearly everywhere is shut except for a couple of noisy pubs which we think we should avoid, but finally we find a pace that is open 24 hours and manage to fill our stomachs. Just as we leave the rain has caught up with us and there is a torrential downpour. The town has large storm drains, but the downpour is so voluminous that even these are overflowing. We try to wait it out under shelter but eventually we have to make a dash for the train and arrive soaked through. It is all rather ironic in a desert town short of water.

The next morning we wake up to see the Nullarbor under a dull, cloudy sky. There s no growth more than a couple of feet high and as we progress even these small shrubs gradually disappear. The land is completely flat with lots of stones sitting on the red sand and some very small shrubs. It is just wonderful. Emptiness for hundreds of kilometers in all directions (well only about 100km south before you reach the coast). There are no springs, lakes, streams rivers – no open water – in the Nullarbor; no trees, no shelter of any kind. And yet up until the railway was built, Aboriginal tries lived here.

In the middle of all this we stop at a 'station' at Forrest. This is an airstrip in the middle of nowhere at which large jet aircraft can land if they get into difficulties – it is the largest runway in Australia outside the major cities. The airstrip also serves as a refuelling point for light aircraft and is manned by two people. We stop to deliver their post.

This stretch of railway track is the longest straight track in the world. No curves, no cuttings, no bridges or tunnels, for 478km. We wonder why it is not smooth! The train bumps around like the old British Rail trains of our youth. But the railway was built by a British engineer of the same vintage so that might explain it.

Nurina Station - the view was the same on the other side of the track

The big event of the day is a one hour stop in Cook.

The locomotive at Cook

This was, until 1997, a small settlement of a couple of dozen houses including a school, swimming pool and a hospital. When the railways were privatised circumstances changed and the number of inhabitants has since dropped to four. There is a sign saying 'Save our hospital – get sick”. We emerge from the air-conditioned train into a dry heat of 32 degrees with completely the wrong clothing. Why the train is so cold I have not yet worked out but it has been the same on many other trains that we have travelled on. A strong wind is blowing the dust around and dried shrubs tumble around.

The children's playground at Cook

Whilst this train is not as sociable as some of the others we have been on, we still manage to meet people and listen to their various stories. There is Alex, aged 85 who explains the benefits of internet dating, except that the last woman he met died about a month after they went on holiday together; there is a young Finnish man who explains how he has done one degree in Finland but did not graduate so that he could do another degree in Perth, but not graduate so that he can commence a third degree in Edinburgh. We meet a couple from Yorkshire who have decided that reclining seats were not such a good bargain after all. Jeff manages to bore a couple of passengers by talking about global warming. We then catch up with the rain again and have the strange experience of seeing the Nullarbor covered in puddles.

The train's PA system congratulates us on having completed our traverse of the Nullarbor. Perhaps we will get a certificate. Despite having crossed the Nullarbor there is still another eighteen hour (i.e. another night of trying to get undressed in the smallest space imaginable – surely smaller than the NASA astronauts have to manage with) before we get to Adelaide.

After we emerge from the Nullarbor we see, on the north side of the track, the signs for the Woomera atomic bomb test site. This area is still radio-active but its OK because they put up warning signs every now and then to keep people out. (I'm not sure how the wildlife read these signs.)

Woomera - you can see the warning sign in the distance

We finally arrive in Adelaide - with the rain.