Adelaide - The Cold, the Flu and Someone has been Humping my Pillow!

More spanners in the works.
Gareth’s visa is up again and he has had to jump out of the country again to renew it. This time he has skipped out to New Zealand for a few days. In the mean time Phil and I have been put up in a great apartment, Quest Mansions, for a few days over the weekend, right in the city. It is pure luxury to be able to do simple things like sit on a sofa and make a cup of tea whenever we like. Charlene, the manager has even taken our washing down into the restaurant below, washed our clothes and fed us. This is a treat.



Lilly flowers in Adelaide Botanic Garden



When we arrive in a city we always have to make use of the free public facilities such as library internet access and newspaper reading rooms. Days are spent in the library trying to catch up with emails and writing up everything that has happened during the long periods on the road when we have no internet access and catching up with the news.



We find a place to relax in Adelaide Botanic Gardens

When we have time we visit tourist information to get free maps and find out what treasures we can see for free in the city, and we are always surprised at how much you can do without money. In Adelaide, the South Australian Museum has a huge array of exhibiions under one roof, free of charge. As we wondered around we noticed the Veolia Nature Photographer of the year 2008 Winners were being exhibited. Below is my entry to this competition.



An interesting plant stem found in the Botanic Gardens

Just a month previously I had entered this picture in the 2009 competition, thanks to my sister Tara paying the £20 entry fee, and I was eager to take a browse around at the kind of standards I was up against. Luckily, we were given complimentary entry into this separately charged exhibition but as I walked through the gallery of astonishing shots, as I walked from frame to frame, I could see my chances of getting anywhere with my entry diminishing with every step. Take a look here at the amazing online gallery.



The hilariously named 'Mother in Law's Chair'

Another fantastic free attraction is the Adelaide Botanic Gardens featuring historic, scientific and educational exhibits of native and exotic plants. Filled with all sorts of people enjoying lunch under trees, taking pictures of specimens and taking a break from the office, this is a green haven of relaxation and peace, slap bang in the middle of the usual hubbub of city frenzy.



A Street Entertainer on Rundle Street Mall

Adelaide itself is a lovely city. If I had money to spend it would have been a great place to try out all the amazing looking cafes, and eateries. But even without cash it was still nice to wander around and happen upon some wonderful pieces of street art.



So far we have managed to go without doing these extremes

A few days later the temperature dropped.
We had been kitted out in clothes fit for intense humid summer only and now we have just landed in what feels like winter. Luckily I was given a pair of jeans from Sheree in Esperance but if it weren’t for that one pair I would be without full length covering my legs. I am still yet to be given any shoes and my toes are usually a pale blue colour. Sleeping in the van which is tightly parked in the small car park of a The Travellers Inn Hostel, (to whom we are very grateful for allowing us the use of their facilities including phone and internet). It’s so cold that I am wearing nearly every clothing item I have been given, I can't stop shivering even though I'm lying under a pile of sleeping bag, blankets and coats and I can’t bring myself to open the window to help remove the germs from my cramped environment for fear of letting more cold in. I have the dreaded flu.



Teenage lovers carve their declarations of love on the bamboo canes in the Botanic Gardens making some interesting graffitti art

I don’t know if it was the scrubbing of seagull poo out in the open, wearing next to no clothes, in Esperance; the sudden drop in temperature; or both, that got the better of me, but I am pretty miserable at the moment.



The camoflage pattern of this London Plain tree must be the inspiration for army wear

Headache, muscle ache and sinuses completely blocked, I have to breathe from my mouth, and I can’t stop the insane cycle of 3 sets 8 eight sneezes in a row per tissue.



Water fountain at the Botanic Gardens

Of course, we all know a cold is untreatable, but there are things which you can do to relieve the symptoms and to remove the germs from your environment.
Unfortunately for me, I can’t do any of these things. I can’t wash my pillow, put on warm clothes and lie in a comfy bed in a heated room with a bowl of chicken soup. In fact, I can’t eat any food items which would do me any real good right now. We are eating out of tins and it may well be the lack of fresh food in our diets that has left me susceptible to catching this cold. I don’t want to wash my hair because I haven’t used a hair dryer in over half a year and I know my long hair won’t dry properly for days in this wet cold weather.
Yes, the trite little mundane issues we most often find difficult to deal on this trip, have for me been turned into huge maudlin complaints now that I have flu and feel sorry for myself. The hackneyed sentences ‘Oh, if only I had a……..’ and ‘I would be better by now if I just had a……..’ splutter about my vicinity whenever the boys are near, but due to our circumstances, the only thing Phil can do to comfort me is make cup of tea after cup of tea (with no milk though I want it white).
Well, I won’t die but I don’t half feel the need for a few comforting things right now. I’ve just used my last tissue. Phrump.

So, looks like I won’t be doing much work in Adelaide.

We spend most nights in the van but do have some nights in a couple of hostels around town and are reminded about how disgusting other travellers can be. We found this cheese sandwich on the window sill, one bite taken out of it and the rest just left there for days. It was there when we checked in and was still there when we checked out, ants crawling all over it, a few days later.



Anyone who has ever stayed in a cheap large dormitory room knows how great and easy it is to meet fellow travellers and find a sociable group of people. However, along side this togetherness and friendly socialising, comes a few annoyances too. For example the ‘dorm rustle’. It starts with one or two of the dorm occupants going to sleep at a reasonable hour in preparation for that early morning tour they have booked, which has a pick up time of six am sharp. The fun starts as the rest of the bunk bed residents slowly decide to hit the sack in drips and drabs at stupid o'clock throughout the night in varying states of inebriation.



A water fountain on the streets of Adelaide displaying Aboriginal statues

Of course, with a room full of other people trying to sleep, putting the light on would be a big no-no, so, with up most respect for others the ‘rustlers’ creep into their corner of the room, and the fumble in the dark begins. Every item they need in order to prepare for sleep is in their back pack, somewhere, but will most likely at the bottom, the plastic bags within rustle, bin bag protecting clothes are searched through, afterward shopping bag are riffled and finally bags containing toothbrush rustle free of their bristle sticks.


Finally the rustler is ready to bed down and they hop into bed banging their head on the top bunk on entry, the under sheet of plastic on the mattress rustles as they find a foetal position facing the wall. And then a few minutes later, the next party goer returns from a few beers on the town, trips over a few plastic bags and starts his own rustling. All the while I’m trying not to listen to the rustling around me, trying so hard to get some sleep, but I am lying awake in my bottom bunk, staring at the disturbing bit of graffiti someone has written on the underside of the top bunk, which simply states:

‘I’VE BEEN HUMPING YOUR PILLOW.’



Doing a very small amount of fund raising around a few pubs, doing newspaper and radio interviews and we tried to make up for the fact we were all feeling a little caught out by the weather and cold temperature but all in all we really didn't feel too constructive in Adelade due to our failing health.



We interviewed in the ABC Adelaide studios
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25th April, ANZAC Day in Adelaide

The Bugle pierced the gravity of reflection as The Last Post sang out long and clear after the One Minute's Silence, with the rain falling a steady, quiet drizzle, as with bowed heads, facing the Cross of Sacrifice in Memorial Park, and the Cathedral Church of St Peter standing watch behind, those present paid their respects, a dignified tribute to those who had died while in the service of their country and listened as the Chaplain spoke



An Anzac Day onlooker walks home after the parade ends

"They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them"

'We will remember them' repeated the crowd softly, hands cupped, or behind their back.

"Lest we forget" spoke the Chaplain

'Lest we forget', repeated the crowd.

There was a shift in the mood, a collective composing, as the National Anthem 'Advance Australia Fair' was sang, muted, solemn, clear and proud. A brief pause, then the Chaplain lead the Benediction to The Glory of the Soldier

"We remember the people of ANZAC who offered their lives that we might live
We recognize their gift enables us to explore, to value all that is precious to humankind. On this anniversary day, gathered around this Cross, we are aware of those who took inspiration from the sacrifices and suffering of their God.
The strength that coursed through the hearts of the ANZACS on that Sunday morning of April 25th 1915 is expressed in the words of the "poet soldier"

After the poem was recited the service came to an end. Moving around the Cross and back up King William Street, I crossed the park, passing all the uniformed men and women, old and young, gathered, talking, smiling, shaking hands, wistfull still after the service, but not sad, respects had been paid, tributes made.



The ceremony by the Cross of Sacrifice was the culmination of the parade. The parade was a military procession of both serving and ex-servicemen and women, that passed northwards along Pulteney St, onto Flinders Street, before turning west onto North Terrace, passing the State National War Memorial there and north again when it meets King William St, and onto Memorial Park.

The procession was due for a 9.30am start. The light rain did not deter the diggers from marching, much as it didn't deter the crowds from lining the street to cheer them on. Almost 7000 soldiers and next of kin marched, with 18,000 lining the streets. ANZAC Day is a big deal. It marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by Australian and New Zealand forces during the First World War. ANZAC stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. The soldiers in those forces quickly became known as ANZACs, and the pride they soon took in that name endures to this day.



Anzac Day in Adelaide

The date, 25th of April commemorates that day in 1915 when Australia first became involved in wartime conflict, and the men of the Anzac Corps landed on the coast of Gallipoli, in Turkey. Over 8 months 8,000 men were killed as they met with fierce fire and relentless attack. The anniversary of this day became an occasion of national commemoration. Commemorative services are held at dawn, the time of the original landing, across the nation.

The marches are held also all over the country; in all cities and towns, townships and villages, a service and procession marks the day. It is a day when Australians reflect on the many different meanings of war, the lives lost and its impact on life today. The multiculturalism of Australia means that soldiers from all over the world are represented, from each and every war Australia has deployed soldiers to or fought alongside. Represented on the march were veterans now living in Australia who fought for Greece, Poland, Holland, Malta, America, Canada, France, Britain, and Serbia among others.



There were also Jeeps conveying Diggers from WWII too old to walk, and glassy eyed with emotion, as each year sees less and less of them remain; veteran Diggers from the Vietnam, Iraqui, Timor, Somalian conflicts were marching; brass bands played Waltzing Matilda; pipers played The Road to Glenrowan; Military bands rang out It's a Long Way To Tipperary; fighter planes flew overhead; the Australian Defence Force marched; the crowd shouted 'thanks, mate' and 'good on ya digger' and cheered and clapped applauding the whole time; the RAF Boy Entrants, the Womens Royal Australian Army Corps, the 1st Health Support Battalion, the Special Air Service Regiment, the 1st, 2nd, 3rd,4th, 5th,6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th Battalions of the Royal Australian Regiment marched by one after another; the energy and rhythmic military drums keeping tight each step; and the music, the noise, the sound of the beating shoes, pounding snare, steady rain, and collectivity of the emotion of it brought tears to the eyes of many, observing and taking part.



Children were told by parents what Grandad had done, where he'd been and why, a proud father watched as his son marched, replete with Grandfather's medals, honouring his memory, taking part in the march, generations united, paying respects to deeds done, lives lost and sacrifices made. After the march and the service at the Cross, there was the mood of an afterparty to the solemnity, as back over the bridge we walked, and onto Memorial Gardens where two large tents thronged with people, drinking, talking, reminiscing, laughing and acknowledging each other.

It was raining heavier by now, the drizzle had turned into a steady downpour, so I turned to go back, to a cup of coffee, in the hostel. Whatever your views on war and warfare, ANZAC Day is a very special day, and it is only one day when commemoration be made to those who died in service to their country. It is a proud day, when Australians are reminded of those who lived, and died, in their name. And it was a pleasure to have been able to witness it first hand.
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The Nullabor - Dingos, Bottle Trees and Vast Amounts of Nothingness

Bye Bye Western Australia - Ceduna Quarantine stop

"Holy shit, you better be carefull going over the..watch out as you cross the...have you got enough provisions, spare tyres, clothing, food, limbs for the trip across the...people have died on the... people have been lost, forever, and not seen since on the expanse of the... watch will you while crossing the..."

NULLARBOR!



A statue in the gardens at Eucla

Like the mighty screech of a creature from the sky that devours humans like tiny ants and keeps their skulls as mementos of its terrible fury, we had been warned, repeatedly and without cessation, each time the word was mentioned that we should watch out... along the Nullarbor. It was not good there, and we should be careful, no, more than careful, we should go beyond it, and keep going, beyond being cautious, and speed up past even vigilance, on through good care and prudence too, and career headlong into paranoia and obsessive suspicion and speculation. Only then will you see... the Other Side, they said.

NULLARBOR! the word chilled the air.



Not far to go now to get back to our starting point, Brisbane

Good old Aussies. They love a good yarn, as has been mentioned before. But this Nullarbor of theirs was exciting them all beyond what we had seen or heard before; more vivid than the stories of spider bites, or crocodile attacks, or even spider attacks on crocodiles, were tales of the Nullarbor consuming travellers like some highway Bermuda Triangle. Hushed voices, raised eyebrows, a confidential lean-in, and a clasp of the hand warned us about it, made us promise to be careful, made us honour a sacred oath on a stone plinth while smearing goats blood onto our foreheads that we would exercise extreme care while crossing... the Nullarbor.



Probably the only point of interest alng the Nullarbor, some pagan looking worship tree, nomads have offered pieces of rubbish, the full moon back lights the bottle clad tree

What is this Nullarbor of which they speak? What thing or netherworld creature can this Nullarbor be supposing to represent? Tales of bloodsoaked Backpackers stunned to silence on the South Australian border, their suntans bleached a fearful pale green, and wincing at every mention of the word Nullarbor; that six spare tyres and another engine would be needed if safe passage be made; that those unprepared for it would surely perish and that dying on the Nullarbor be a thousand deaths before the blessed release of eternal darkness.



Australia's longest Straight road, the Nullabor

To dispense with the histrionics for a second we had to, in order to get to Adelaide, cross the (officially so-named) Nullarbor Plain. In the strictly factual topographical sense the Nullarbor Plain is the section of southern land between Norseman in Western Australia and Ceduna in South Australia. Nullarbor means 'no trees' in poor Latin, which is what it is famed for and for which its repute asserts its uniqueness.



Although the land within the Nullarbor is barren, the road is surfaced and mainly coastal. The Trans Australia Railway runs directly through the centre of the Nullarbor where presumably most of The Horror lives. The Eyre Highway along which we were headed, runs along the southern section of the Nullarbor Plain. The Eyre Highway was named after John Eyre, who along with John Baxter (who unfortunately died on the journey), crossed the Nullarbor in 1841. It wasn't until 1912, however, that the first car crossed the Nullarbor.



Thanks to Bruce and Stuart we had three new Jerry cans, to add to the four we already had. They were all full thanks to Henrietta and Donald MacKenzie. Jock 'The Wrecker' Murray filled our tank for us. We were also stocked with enough food supplies. Brian Tolhurst ensured we had enough fresh bread. Warm clothing we had need of and were given too. The Esperance crew had done all they could to make sure we got accross. It was up to us to do it. We could not let them down. Tear gas and a cyanide pill each inserted into our back-left molars we had also - just in case.



Heading out of Esperance we drove 203 kilometres north to Norseman. Topping up there, we headed 193km east to Balladonia. Staying there the night, we continued next morning east along the longest straight stretch of road in Australia, a distance of 145km, until Caiguna. There we stopped for coffee and sandwiches, glad to be alive. East again is Cocklebiddy where we put in 10 litres of fuel from the jerry can supply. Tense.



A further 90km away is Madura, and in order to reach it and to reach Mundrabilla another 116km east, we inserted 20 litres from the Jerry can store. We had by then covered 859 unforgiving kilometres. Staying in Mundrabilla for the night, we drank some/most of the beer Stuart and Bruce insisted (no, no, no, really, no ,no, no. Ok, then) we take with us, sipping entranced under the milky-glare of a bright full-moon. This Nullarbor was out there, we felt it.



The Nullarbor was illuminated by a full moon as we passed through the nothingness

The final town before crossing the South Australia border is Eucla. But 15 kilometres before that is the aptly named Border Village. While there Paul at the BP Roadhouse filled our tank for us and fed us and caffeinated us too. Leaving then crossing the border, we left behind the comfort and confidence gained while in Western Australia, and entered a new world, that of South Australia, and who knew if this was where the dreaded Nullarbor might strike and force us to sing Cliff Richard Christmas Carols before eating our heads.

That night we stayed at the Nullarbor Roadhouse over 1,000 kilometres from safety in Esperance and still 1,200 from Adelaide, but almost half way across the Nullarbor Plain. We saw the treeless expanse now. Now, we have seen a lot of nothing, if such can be seen and not experienced, and this was a whole lot of it. The wind sailed across the land uninterrupted and not a single natural undulation blocked the perfectly flat scenery all around us. This Nullarbor was so terrible because it was a void.



The moon-glare illuminated for us the starry sky after the sun not so much set as dropped down like a coin into a slot, and the pinkish sunset spread across the huge western sky. Wild Dingoes mooched around, hoping for scraps, but not wanting to offend The Nullarbor with indiscreet offerings to feral creatures (really, that's why, honest) they got none but a good old shoo-ing.



The night was brisk and cold. The sallying wind seemed be moving parralell to the ground, in a straight line hurrying accross the landscape. The silence was deafening. Looking out into the expanse it seemed entirely barren. Nothing moved, or swayed. At least the ocean is constantly in flux. Not so the Nullarbor Plain. It exists as a vacuum into which all living things must yield movement eventually and merge into the stillness. Nullarbor.



A Dingo puppy, quietly come over to wait for scraps of which we had none to give

It claimed a host of caravans and mobile homes and campervans, if our very eyes are to be believed!! The caravan park was full of passers-through when we went to bed. Full and teeming with campers, winnebagoers, campervaners, and sturdy swaggers. When we awoke, only one remained. An elderly couple were packing away their camp chair after a morning cuppa, probably amazed, like us, in a state of amazement, that the Nullarbor had claimed yet more people. That we were the only ones spared, we have Divine Providence and not being morning people to thank for that I'm sure.



Look how straight and featureless the road is in all directions

It was 297 kilometres to Ceduna, and we drove along the Eyre Highway passing close enough to the Great Australian Bight to make it easy to go see. It is a large bight (it looks like a large bite if you look at the map, as though a huge chunk has been chewed off) or open bay located off the coast extending from central west to the south. The coast line of the Great Australian Bight is characterised by stunning cliff faces of up to 60 metres high and it was a relief to see the ocean, after the Nullarbor almost clamied us the night before (the siren call of lost backpackers wandering in the night looking for rolling tobacco and cheap boxes of goon).



Sand dunes in the distance at the ege of the Nullarbor

Stopping along the way at Penang Roadhouse to fill the tank up yet again, we had clocked 1358 kilometres, with only 785 to Adelaide. Quickly feeding at Ceduna, we made it to Smoky Bay before dark, managing to find people good enough at the Caravan Park there to squeeze us in at an unofficial site beside the womens toilet, as it was Easter weekend, and they were full. Moving on next morning we topped up the fuel yet again at Wundera and Windarie Roadhouses before arriving, yet again, just before dark in Port Augusta, and finding, thanks to some more goodly folk, a plot at Shoreline Caravan Park.



Not wanting to hesitate in case the Nullarbor folowed us out and tried to eat our livers with some fava beans and a nice Chianti we made headway to Adelaide next day. Arriving in Paralowie, not far from the city, just before (ahem) dark we parked up in the Caravan Park. We had driven 2,266 kilometres in six days, survived the dreaded Nullarbor and broken new records for the amount of times we said but did not act on the mantra "early bird catches the worm". We may not have caught any worms, but we survived the Nullarbor and that's fine by me.



Quarantine searches our van at Ceduna





Look very carefully at the lonely building in the distance on the Nullabor Plain

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