Wa Border and What do you Eat when you have No Money?

Anything and everything!


Sorry but this is going to be a little bit of a four month without money fuelled whinge. One thing we have prepared ourselves for is to go hungry. We knew right from the start that with no ability to purchase food that we would sometimes have to go without. However, we are yet to starve, and although we are eating strange things, we are well enough.


Flies plague our food

We had been on the road all day, stopping only for a camping stove tea and stale biscuit break and we were all famished. Phil is cooking. I was hovering around the stove with little patience, willing the food to be ready with the fortitude of a girl in a toilet queue on New Years Eve; time drags, the minutes canter the wrong way up the down escalators.
Without seasoning, oil or proper cooking implements Phil tries to make something of the meagre ingredients, mostly being pulled from aluminium tins, squelching as the cylindrical food matter, falls out of its self made vacuum and slides into the pan with a big plop. We are so hungry it really doesn’t matter what we eat, anything will do, but we are looking forward to the meal to come due to the lavish way Phil is sprinkling things to the pan and for the amount of time he is spending on food preparations. Unfortunately, to call Phil’s culinary repertoire limited would be boastful, and the only thing we could do to get the fodder he prepared down our necks was to cover it in the fish flavoured sauce we had. It is, I think, the first time I have eaten anything which you could honestly describe as being gruel.



As a test of our will power people eat ice-cream in our wake in the midday sun, eat T-bone steaks on cloth covered tables to the left and drink cold beer that we can’t get our hands on to the right. It is hard sometimes, it has definitely been brought home to me just how much I rely on my ability to go out and buy myself anything I want to eat or snack on, anytime I like [in my normal life], to cope with different situations: something cold and icy when I’m hot; something stodgy and comforting when I’m cold; something full of grease and carbohydrates when I want to veg out; fresh fruit and vegetables when I need a detox; something chocolate covered when I’m feeling a little down.


Tempting......


Now that we can’t do that we have to be inventive about keeping our mind, and our eyes for that matter, off those food and drink items we covet. With little in the form of provisions in the Cheeky Camper we often have to work for a feed. We have opened packets to find food crawling with weevils, opened long life milk to find it curdled after a few hours in the immense heat and taken mouthfuls of water to find it putrid and eggy, yes, sometimes it is tough.



Flies suck the moisture from you

I can’t remember the last time I had a piece of chocolate, a big deal for a girl, a piece of gateaux or an ice-cream, gees what I wouldn’t give sometimes for an ice-lolly in the heat of the day in the desert when I’m surrounded on all sides by hoards of tourists in service stations deciding if they should go for the orange or lemonade flavoured ices. We can’t have cereal and milk because we have no milk, or cereal for that matter. Meals have little distinction except for what time of day we eat them, breakfast containing pretty much the same substance as what lunch and dinner will contain the only difference being lunch is eaten cold out of a can, smothered in its own tomato sauce and dinner will be heated over the camping stove if there is any gas, which at the moment we also do not have. So, on the road without the money to purchase a beer after a hard days graft, nor the money for a soda or basics like bread, us three Brits don’t even have the means to make a cup of tea, a very big deal, which anyone from the UK can sympathise with.



Gareth checking out what food supplies we have left in the van

While we would love to have a larder filled with goodies and a refrigerator full to the brim of fresh produce, we don’t. We make do with what is donated to us along our travels and look forward to home made food at the homes of those who invite us for a feed, or to those restaurants and cafes which take pity on us. Sometimes we eat like kings and other times we open the tin of Christmas chick peas and the last can of spaghetti hoops.


We hadn’t had any fresh food supplies for a while, but Tony Milhinos, the guy in Darwin who had done so much for us, paid for our supermarket sweep and we carefully selected fresh fruit and vegetable we thought would last though out our long trip to the West Australian coast. We ate a few grapes and apples, rationing the rest of the fruit to last the journey. Unfortunately, we were completely unprepared for what was to happen to us next. We arrived at the Northern Territory/Western Australia (WA) border and we were told to hand over everything! Most of the food items we had been rationing were on their quarantine list, we had to give up our fruit, our onions, our vegetables, garlic, honey, coconuts and nuts, in fact, everything that wasn’t dried or in a tin. We sat at the border control, for a while, eating as much fruit as we could cram in.
We really regretted our previous rationing.





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The Wet and The Smell - Katherine to WA Border

Phil checks the water level as we drive through a flooded road

After a soggy, damp night, we moved on from Katherine. The dash down the day before had delayed dinner, and we hardly ate, and we woke hungry and sullen next morning. That aside, we were looking forward to getting a move on and see what all the fuss was about. The Victoria River had been a thorn in our side, an obstacle immovable and for many, the talk of the town. It was the Vic River this, Vic River that. ‘You’ll never make it across… you’ll be at least 6 weeks marooned… might as well go another way (there is no other way)… I remember a time when it was up to the nostril of every man-jack this side of the Nullarbor…’ and we listened and nodded much the way we did when they (a different ‘they’) forewarned us about these floods that have a tendency to occur up here.



Phil takes a picture of the bushland turned raging river

Blithely we vie for having our heads in the clouds or stuck firmly in the sand. It isn’t easy living like that, but necessary, and productive. Had we listened to the ‘they’ we would not have been able to see what all the fuss was about when the Wet hits, nor being so daring to at the drop of a hat dash down daredevil fashion and attempt a bold crossing of this behemoth river during flood season.



Phil triumphantly raises his fists at being able to cross the Victoria river

Recent reports were that the Victoria River was now a metre under the bridge, which was passable, having been two metres over until two days ago, and passable only by boat, if you had the courage to fight not only the swift current but the hungry crocs too. Not knowing what to expect (“it [the river] goes down as fast as it goes up, but it can go up quicker!” they would say enigmatically to frighten us) and it was with some trepidation mingled with excitement that we approached, nervous that it had risen overnight (‘watch yer nostrils buddy!’) but eager all the same to see this huge surge of water in full flood.



We all walk over the Vic Bridge to imagine what the water line was like at its peak height of over 4 meters above the road

It was all clear to cross. The strewn debris and washed-up detritus along both sides of the bridge substantiated where the river had been, but it ran a metre or so beneath it. Submerging some of the ghost gum trees on the banks below, though, and maybe four hundred metres wide, the rich red ochre flood water raced down, and it was hard to imagine how much extra water could make it rise a further six metres to the level it was at its highest point over the bridge. Maybe ‘they’ had a point about the Wet season.



The Adelaide River Inn donates fuel to our cause



The actual bull that Crocodile Dundee hypnotises in the film!



It has to be done, we all did it.

One hundred percent humidity and the stifling heat keeps you wet at all times, the sweat pours down your back and pools around your arse soaking the seat. Legs sticking to the material on the chair and hair greased to your scalp, I mostly feel incredibly sticky, smelling about as attractive as I look and looking about as attractive as I feel under my layer of dirt.

A boab tree with climbing pegs hammered into it

Reflexions in the flooded bush make beautiful links between the skies and the land



A Wicked Camper signature painted door

Living in such a small space for such extended periods of time with two boys means that aromas fester, mutating into unbreathable, putrid, gaseous clouds if left unchecked. Our sleeping quarters, cooking area, washing area, larder and storage space, one unto itself, means that stray whiffs are unavoidable.

It hits you as soon as you open the van door, the smell of deodorant battling with the pungent smell of foist, sweat, feet and fart. Be it shoe, sock, a long forgotten rotten spud down the back of a seat, a soup spillage left to go mouldy, a damp dirty towel gone unwashed for an age or a lentil fuelled fart unable to escape the van due to rain forced closed windows, we have experienced it all. Add to that, the pong of the discernable flavour of carrion coming in from outside and the stifling heat to intensify all the stenches, you have a devils reek of a symphony for the nostrils. Read a cheeky bit more!

Flooded in Darwin

Picnicers at Mitchel Street Square

The final two weeks in Darwin were spent playing the old waiting game. We played it well, as it turns out, but we had no choice, we had to remain, we could not leave. We were well and truly trapped, caught in a jam, with nowhere to go.


The rain came every day keeping the Victoria River Bridge flooded It is as very simple tale to tell. You see, we did not listen to those who knew more than us. Or, if we did, we nodded, and thought it did not apply to us. At best we simply forgot to heed the (many and frequent) warnings to: "Make sure you get out of the Tropics before the Wet Season". Because: "You'll be stuck, flooded in". 'Oh, we will', we always replied, 'we will', we would agree, 'we'll be long gone before the rains come down, long gone'.

We were slap-bang in the middle of it all weren't we.

We got stuck, flooded in, like they said we would. To the south of us (then again, anywhere in Australia is south to the Darwin folk) towards Katherine the road was intermittently waterlogged, and west of Katherine towards the Western Australian border the road was closed. The Victoria River, 200 kilometres west along the Victoria Highway from the Mingaloo turn-off from Katherine had risen up and over the bridge, at one stage five metres over, a tremendous body of water in a great hurry to the sea and we were at its mercy.



A bird enjoys the flooded roads

We decided to stay put in Darwin while the monsoonal trough passed over the Top End depositing more water to feed the catchment areas that force the Victoria River to swell and burst its banks. The Bureau of Meteorology website was daily checked, thanks to the free internet time given us by Parliament House Library, which became our second home. There we updated the sorely neglected blogsite and scoured the collection.


The Vic River bridge just after the rains went down, the river actually came 2.4 meters avove the bridge! That is just under the top of the supports of the new bridge you can see in the background!



A fountain in the Parliament House gardens

After so long in Darwin (we were there nearly five weeks all told by the time we left), we were saved by the Library. They offer everyone one free hour per day, but were more than happy to allow us to work away uninterrupted as long as we liked. It became our office for those two weeks, the staff knew us, the coffee shop fed and watered us, and we got much done. We were also fortunate that the accomodation we found were sympathetic to our predicament. At first the Value Inn, then Meleleuka on Mitchell Hostel, followed by the Palms City Resort, who were amazingly supportive and gave us a luxurious apartment in paradise for nearly two weeks gratis, also doing our washing and giving us free internet access, and finally Ashton Lodge Backpackers, so we were able to have extended stays in the city centre.

The Parliament House building by day and by night

This convenient set-up allowed us to divide our time between the Library and organizing fundraising activities at the various pubs and bars in town, as well as at the Robertson and Larrakia Army Barracks. Deprived of the ease with which we were treated and the support of these people, we would have been severely hampered.



The Northern Territory flag

We were still being fed daily at the Vic Hotel thanks to the armfull of meal vouchers given to us when we arrived in Darwin by Chillies Backpackers, and despite spending so long in town we never went hungry for long. True, by the end we were asking some of the same people twice (unwittingly) and it became harder. Generosity is a finite resource to call upon, and so it became harder to gauge where we would find food next, especially when the meal vouchers ran out, but that was no major hardship and testament to the amount of businesses that readily came to our aid.



Australian army hats on racks outside the mess hall

All up we raised over $6,000 in Darwin. A very succesful time, and one we never felt wasted, even when flooded in. From bar to bar, pub to pub, we trundled with our jar, collecting donations, organizing raffles from the gifts donated by the local businesses, even appearing on local radio to auction some too. Finding ourselves on the front page on the NT News was very handy and we milked our celebrity for all it was worth.



Lieutenant Bill Heck of Robertson Barracks
There is a charm to Darwin that we warmed to, an ease we fell right into. We worked hard and were rewarded. The conviviality of the residents was disarmingly benevolent and readily helpful. The fact that we were on the front page of the NT News obviously helped a lot of people recognize us and dig a little deeper when donating on our periodical tour of the bars. But it was the amount of businesses that donated to us that helped us get that much more money in. From meal vouchers, to a Pearl Necklace and Earring Set, to MP3 players, to a free massage voucher, and much more, we were able to talk the pubs and clubs into allowing us to raffle some of them and make the fundraising easier, and more fun.

Tropical Spas donate voucher to raffle
Thinking about it later, while watching the news with all talk was centred on the Credit Crunch and the Global Financial Crisis, we could not have felt more removed from the situation. Not one person, even those who chose not to help, citing this as a reason for doing so. After all, the meltdown in the World Economy has been the hidden plotline to our trip, the grumbling underbelly of the world around us coughing up debt and disaster for many businesses and individuals. It would be all too easy for those we meet to be in the grip of it themselves, but so far either people are too good natured to use it as an excuse, or too busy getting on with things to worry us with their problems.



Jim Bancroft from Darwin Reef and Wrecks donates some fishing trips to raffle off

We are not oblivious to the circumstances, we hear of the closure of mines, the loss of jobs and the instability it is all generating, in or near some of the towns we pass through, but, as in the situation of the flood, when there is nothing you can do about it, you get on with things and keep working away. That is a very Aussie attitude also, I think. Get into it mate! So, as all we can do is ask, we kept asking, and people either obliged us or they didn't. More people helped out than not, though, and that made it easier to keep asking.


A skirted mushroom we food whilst clearin a rain forest

As February approached the Victoria River was still flowing over the bridge. Our friends Lou and Bernie were keeping us in the loop, as Bernie spends a lot of his days on the road, picking up and delivering goods westwards and, as there is only the one road west, he and Lou told us that as soon as he heard the bridge was passable, he would let us know. This was yet another situation we were to find ourselves in where serendipity smiled on us and allowed us the luxury of being able to use our time well. Bernie waited ten days beside the bridge at the Victoria River before getting through.



The flooded roads of the northern Territory

Had we not been privvy to this insider knowledge we too may have been forced to wing it and wait by the side of the road, instead of air conditioned and comfortable in the Palms City Resort, able to fundraise and bring in the money. Part of me wanted to be stuck by the road though. Waiting it out. And as it turns out they had a great time there too. Someone would daily drive the 200 kilometres to Katherine, Bernie told us later, to pick up the cartons of booze and the steaks, and they would play cards, cook a barbie, drink stubbies and go fishing, watching for the crocs on the bank, of course.




As week five was approaching we decided on leaving Darwin. We had to work for Jeremy and Michelle Barndon in Howard Springs, south of the city, so we figured this into our plans. Michelle had heard us on the radio and phoned in to offer a days work picking up palm fronds from their small rainforest. The river may rise five metres in an hour, but it is just as likely to fall by that too, we were told. The rain was abating a little and we felt the need to be nearer the action in case we only had a window of a day or so. We would make our way slowly out of Darwin and see what the river was doing each day.



Jeremy and Michelle stood in their rain forest after we cleared it

It was raining when we cleared the palm fronds for Jeremy and Michelle, and there were a lot of them to pick up, but the work was made that much easier when Jeremy asked the question "what beers do you lot like? I'll get a slab in for ya". We stayed there that night and got royally drunk too. On our way next day to Humpty Doo to see a lady called Fiona Scott, who has been in touch with us for many months now, who we had promised to visit since we were in Tully, on the east coast, we heard from Lou, who had just heard from Bernie, that the Victoria Bridge was passable, but for who knows how long, so get yer arses down there sharpish. A flying visit to Fiona Scott followed, long enough to have a chat and a cup of tea, and we were off to Katherine that night, to make for the bridge the next morning. Sorry we couldn't stay longer Fiona, we were gutted to run in and out like that, thanks for the biscuits and the donations!



The floods had subsided, and we could run but we could not hide, but for the moment we were on the road again, putting the slipper into it and at the drop of a hat heading to see the big fat load of water that had been in name only so far a very troublesome problem to us but a sight to behold we were sure. We were running out of time in the Northern Territory, but we had no time to stop and smell the roses. There were one thousand kilometres of floodplains to traverse until we were (apparently) safe in Broome, and the road was liable to flood again at any time. Read a cheeky bit more!

Australia Day Creeps Upon us Signifying Failure

Australians have such a sense of national pride that it is impossible to miss the immense number of flags flying over anything from a grand building to a push chair, the hoards of guys and girls donning the southern cross tattooed across various body parts and the proudly displayed Australia made products stacked across supermarket shelves throughout. So it comes to no surprise that January 26th, Australia Day, is the biggest holiday here, outside of the festive season.

The Australian emblem over Parliament House doors

"It's a chance to reflect on our sense of self-reliance, our support for others in times of need, our quirky humour, our glorious landscape, our perspective and our national personality." say official Australia webpages. And that pretty much sums up exactly what we find of Australia and Australians on our cheeky trip. On the receiving end of the support, the humour and the awe inspiring landscapes, we know for sure how derserving Australians are of this day of celebration. Experiencing first hand the national vibe and personality we three agreed that Australian's have many a reason to take a day off work in unison and celebrate this great nation.

Most humorously, in the lead up to Australia Day, TV commercials were shown at regular intervals throughout the day and night showing what I can only describe as an advert which had an underling message of ‘get pissed with your mates on Australia Day or else!’ but what were we going to do? We had no plans. As we listened to the twenty one gun salute by 8/12 Medium Regt and watched the FA18 flyover, Gareth receives a phone call from Lou, our friend in Palmerston, who in true Australian style asked us to come join her and friends at Tracy's house. A traditional Australia Day backyard gathering round the pool and sausage sizzle made for a lovely break from trying to find food and shelter.

Anne is introduced to children’s python on Australia Day

Caption competition. Enter caption here...............................

What a day; good food, great people and plenty of toasts. Gareth talked to Pearl, a Manx lady living in Darwin, about the Welsh characters on Little Britain whilst showing off the back of her tabard, which had the Manx flag on it, signifying her Isle of Man roots.

Our little friend Taylor showing us an Aussie Day traditional get up

For us, Australia Day had other great significance too, it was the projected target day of our return to Brisbane. Our initial goal and time frame for circumnavigating Australia, whilst raising $20,000. The date crept upon us while we were trapped in Darwin by the floods. By this stage we had imagined a tough but doable race to the finish line in Brisbane, but we had failed. Yet we didn’t feel like failures.

Feeling slightly foolish at our underestimation of the size of this country and of the grand scales between fuel stations in the outback, we laughed at our previous ignorance, but we didn’t feel ashamed at defeat. In fact, it didn’t even feel like the end of a journey, that is, because without us even discussing the thought, we each had known and decided a long time ago that no matter what happened we would complete the journey.

So, we carry on regardless, safe in the knowledge that we couldn’t fail any further and that children around the world would benefit from our failure nonetheless. So $7,000 short of our target of $20,000 and far from Brisbane we press on. Like those who carry on running toward the finishing line of a marathon hours after the adjudicators have retired, the Cheeky Trip would continue. Wicked Campers agreed to let us have the Cheeky Van a little longer and we took this as a sign of good things to come.

As we all thought we would be back to Brisbane by now this opened up another spanner in the works, Gareth’s visa was up. He had been in Australia for a year now on a working holiday visa and now that he had turned 31 he was ineligible to apply for a second year visa. Determined to carry on and contribute to the goal of £10,000 he jumped on a flight to Bali and returned a few days later on a tourist visa. Visa issues are something tedious all those wishing to stay for more than a short holiday in any country have to deal with. Gareth will have to hop skip and jump through the hoops to stay on the trip.

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