First stop out of Sydney was the short drive West to the Blue Mountains, and more specifically, the picturesque town of Katoomba with spectacular views out across the range. I enjoyed a couple of days walking through the valley floor, looking out over the precarious Three Sisters rocks, and immediately jamming Gumdrop's boot lid shut, awkward when the boot is your bedroom. I sourced a can of WD-40 and fixed my first automotive problem relatively easily, then hit the road West again to Bathurst. The weekend was shaping up nicely here as the crowds were beginning to arrive for the annual Bathurst 1000 motor race but since i'd arrived too late to register Gumdrop on the grid, I headed out instead to Sofala, apparently Australia's oldest gold mining town. It was a sleepy little affair with local store, petrol station and pub, and not much going on. Set amongst gentle and rolling green hills, it did indeed feel as if time stood still here and I enjoyed a drink and a breather before we got a few more miles in towards Adelaide.
Life on the road was going well. Gumdrop was coping with the miles, and was surprisingly comfortable to live in. Both me and my air matress fitted perfectly in the boot, with space for a cool box, a chair, and all my cooking equipment. Pretty quickly I realised the advantage of independence as I arrived in Mildura, on the border with Victoria, and only a short drive from Mungo National Park, where some of the world's oldest human remains have been discovered. I spent a day around the dusty dry mud flats and sand dunes overlooking large expanses of flat, arid plains, the green hills having faded some time before.
It was at Mungo National Park that I had my first encounter with Australia's most fearless and agressive animal - the fly. The Australian fly it seems, just doesn't play by the rules. Whereas British flies may appear in large numbers, they retain a sense of fair play and never attempt kamikaze landings on eyeballs or up nostrils, preferring instead, the much more sporting locations of shoulder or forearm. In Australia, the flies are relentless and quite how no-one has as yet, worked out how to eradicate them is beyond me. I spluttered and choked my way around the park and noted to myself that whilst he has a much worse reputation, at least a bloody crocodile wouldn't try and force his way up my nose every 10 seconds.
Whilst searching for the oldest fossilized human remains ever found might be fun, it of course didn't take precendence over the rugby so I headed back into Mildura for "The Big One", England v Australia live from Marseille. This match in particular, was something to dread. An Englishman in Australia on his own watching greatly mis-matched sides, and only the local working men's club showing the game. I signed up as a member and took to my seat with a beer, hoping for respectability at least. With a few English fruit pickers around I found some support and we enjoyed 70 minutes of friendly and entertaining banter with our Australian friends. Then, as if we'd all been ignoring the action completely, some bright spark was the first to realise that only 10 minutes remained and England were still actually winning. Suddenly people began to concentrate and the tension rose. Johnny missed a kick, Mortlock missed a kick, good Lord, and the whistle went. Joy of joys, England had won, I could avoid all the stick and be smug, but no-one really knew how. Confusion reigned as both camps struggled to grasp their relative and unexpected positions of victory and defeat.
"... ... ... ... Let's get pi55ed." said an Australian voice from somewhere.
and so we did.
Another diversion further down the road took me to beautiful Murray River National Park where I camped by the river and watched pelicans paddling back and forth purposefully around me. They were indeed an impressive sight. So impressive in fact that I left my headlights on and ran the battery flat. Bugger. Gumdrop wasn't going anywhere so I strolled off and found some neigbourly campers down the river who kindly gave me a push and got me going again.
"Remember Ashman, it's possible to die in the outback, must be sharper in future."
Back on the road and up next was very scenic and very pleasant Renmark in the South Australian Riverland. I enjoyed a stroll along the river before moving on to the Barossa Valley to neck a bit of posh wine. Since my wine expertise extends no further than "Wines i've heard of before", I aimed straight for the Jacob's Creek vineyard and sampled a few reds, a couple of whites, and some cheese. Very sophisticated I thought as Gumdrop motored on through the reappearing green landscapes. I couldn't decide if it all looked very much like the hills back home, or the vineyards of France. Home, I eventually decided, with some vineyards.
Pleasant temperatures and blue skies accompanied me along the way and before not much more time had passed, i'd driven the 1400km from Sydney and arrived in safely Adelaide, to see if they actually did eat crows in South Australia.
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