Thursday 28 February 2013

Day 58 (Border Village to Madura)

Day: 208 km

This morning was quite confusing. My phone had automatically changed time as I was close to the border. It said I was awake at 5:30 W.A time. The confusing thing about this is that their are three different time zones until I get to Caiguna, which is another 450km. Undecided to stay in bed a little longer, despite the heavy wind almost making it impossible.

I got to the border and decided to relax. It was raining so I thought I'd stay inside until it cleared up. I wrote a few blogs and caught up on a few emails. As it cleared I thought I better head off. It was roughly 40km to a road house but I was hoping to get about 100km in today. I went straight past the first roadhouse and ended up hitting another one 100 odd km further. I got in around 17:30 S.A time but it was 16:00 local time. I still had energy and wanted to go further. I saw there was a roadhouse further 110km away. I stoppe at the roadhouse but was hard to get comfortable. I felt the wind hitting my body and every second my mind was saying keep going. It would have been such a waste to not take advantage of this. I was feeling a little tired but certainly ha the head space to keep going. I ran into the roadhouse, got a homemade cookie and then took off.

I rode as hard as I have on my whole trip. The first 100km today I had an average of around 25km, the last 100km my average went up to 30km. This must have meant my average for the last 100km was 35km or higher, unbelievable considering my load and fatigue from yesterday. I had that thing they call adrenaline running through me, so there was no chance of me going any slower.

The sun was going down with about 10km left to reach the road house. I was really pushing hard as I didn't want to have to stop to get my lights out. This sunset was possibly the best that I've ever seen in my life. I think this was made even more beautiful by the fatigue I felt and knowing I've jus ridden 200km + over the Nullabor. I had Wedgetail eagles flying all around me and it appeared that they were flying with me. They looked incredible, a real spectacle in the sky. One of them would have been at least 5 metres wide. I actually mistook it for a small tree, with its light brown and mixture of vibrant yet darker colours. They just stay in the one spot in the air, looking as to not even exert any energy.

I pulled into the road house around 20:00 local time and set up my tent. Hoping to do another 160 odd km tomorrow!











Day 57 (Nullabor on way to W.A Border Village)

Day: 177km

It's around 6:15am and pouring rain. I'm laying in my tent listening to heavy rain and what sounds to be a puddle getting bigger and bigger next to my tent. I can also hear the dingoes getting into my gear, or at least sounds like that. I was planning on leaving at this time. I have 185 to 200km to the border and wanted to do it today. In these conditions I can't really do anything though. I'm contemplating doing the ride in the rain and head wind. The only problem is not being able to make it and having set up my tent in pouring rain in the bush. This bush mind you is shrubland, filled with venemous snakes, plentiful dingoes, wild camels and hundreds of other animals. If I push through I know I can do it. I will continue writing at end of day, as I'm now going to look outside of tent as it sounds like rains softening a bit. Could be a good chance to get going...

I can now write that I've done 175km since this morning. I got out of my tent and in the light drizzle I managed to pack all my thing up. My tent was still wet and sleeping bag also, but they were still good enough to pack up. I pulled up about 10 km short of the W.A border a I knew it wold e hard to find free camping around the border. This spot is beautiful, however extremely windy. The only positive about such strong wind is that it's forming into a south easterly, meaning I should be able to have advantage from a tailwind tomorrow.

I'm sleeping in a parking bay and there are a few other caravans nearby. Sitting around one caravan is a group of older people, with some being very drunk. When I see people in this state it makes me realise how much alcohol swindles your persona and how easily you become judged. This man is interrupting, talking over the others, not making sense and appears to be a very annoying person to be around.

As soon as I pulled in I set up the cooker and had a big feed. I was wrapped as I finished off all the veggies from the Turkish man. I also finished all the bread off and olives. I'm saving the tuned fruit for breakfast tomorrow. Very fortunate for that man providing me with this food.











Day 56 (Yalata lands to Nullabor)

Day: 20km

This morning I was in low spirits. I realised late last night I couldn't find my good luck charm. This is a small horseshoe that's about the size of a fingernail. This was something that's meant to bring luck and I received it off my late Oma. I was devastated when I thought I lost it. This initiated a mixture of feelings, mostly anger that I could be so disorganised to lose it. The anger was followed by sadness, as it was the only possession I had from my Oma after she passed away. I've carried this thing everyday on all my travels and in this time I'd love to have it more than ever. The second I couldn't find it, where I thought I put it last, I looked everywhere. I emptied all my stuff, went through all my pockets and all my bags. I thought it was gone. The wind was so heavy, blowing all my things away and my tent flying around, all I wanted was my Omas horseshoe.

This morning waking up after having the dingoes circling my tent all night I was really in low morale. When I woke up and walked out of the tent there were two dingoes just staring at me. These are astonishing looking animals, when contrasted with the Australian landscape. It's incredible to think these are native animals and that they belong to the land. They have a distinctive appearance and almost glow in the dark. They have a bright shining white strip through their chest, followed with a bright yellowy beige colour on the rest of their body. They both stood there, the same as last night, just gazing into me. With the reflection of the moon you can imagine this was a very surreal spectacle. The open treeless shrub plains with two big eyes glaring off the full moon. These were clever buggers, having wits somewhat similar to a fox. They would get close, then do a semi circle around me, then within a few seconds get even closer. It's hard to believe this is a native animal, yet I still have trouble believing they were introduced 15,000 years ago or whatever it is, through south east Asia. It just adds even more to the miraculous diversity of the Australian environment. Now that I feel safe I can say it was a very good experience to see these in natural conditions.

After I packed all my stuff up I realised two things. The first was that my horseshoe was stuck to the back of a fridge-magnet I bought for my mum. This made me very relieved. The second that my bike sandal was missing. I looked all over and realised it was gone. I then thought of the dingoes and whether or not they would have taken it. I started looking through the shrubs and after about 30minutes I manage to find it. I'm very lucky about this as I wasn't looking forward to riding the next 1500km in a pair of thongs.

The weather was very cloudy and the next roadhouse was 20km away. After this it is 190km, which will be the W.A border. I thought due to the conditions I'd better take the day off in the roadhouse and avoid today's wet weather.

After pulling into the roadhouse the rain picked up more and more. It ended up raining the whole day until now, late at night. There are a few caravans here at the roadhouse but they are all at the front near the road. The unpowered tent sites are at the rear of the roadhouse, practically in the shrub land. In this part of my ride I'm not expecting to see other tents, as these parts would only have vans or caravans. There are even more dingoes around this roadhouse as apparently they come here for all the foods scraps from the travellers. It's pouring rain, extreme winds, my tent full of water and plenty of dingoes circling my tent again. This is the most I've been pushed by the natural elements so far.

I just hope my bags are safe outside of my tent and that the food in my tent doesn't attract the dingoes inside. I actually asked an old couple in a big camper van whether I could put my small backpack, that has my food in it, inside their caravan. The lady mumbled like a real miserable old women and exclaimed "If I put your bag in here then I'll have to move all my stuff off the table and then put it all back in the morning!!". Not only did her remarks illustrate her insensitivity to other people but it made me feel somewhat cheeky for even asking. As I was standing there in the rain she continued rambling on with negativity, so I decided to walk off. I am now in my tent and it's full of little puddles and my sleeping bags soaked. I'm hoping to leave early tomorrow morning but in these conditions I don't know if I'll be able to get out of here.











Wednesday 27 February 2013

Day 55 (Nundroo to Yalata lands)

Day: 135km

Today was roasting hot. To explain how hot it is here, I've taken photos of my bike horn. The plastic/rubber outer layer had completely cracked and fell off through yesterday's heat. I am dreading to think about what the sun is doing to my skin and also my face, if its burning through the horn..

I had a bit of a sleep in and by around 10 I asked the girls in the roadhouse if they heard from the fella working in Yalata. I had been informed there won't be any work for a week at least, as there are currently three funerals happening at Yalata. From past stories I know how significant death is in Aboriginal communities and realise sorry business can go for a number of weeks. More importantly they probably wouldn't want some white fella walking around their community at such a sensitive time.

I was pushing it late but decided to head off. I left around 11am to take on the 150km ride. The difficult task with this is the winds have been strong and the heat very exhausting. I have now adapted to the heavy load on the bike, especially now I'm carrying an extra ten kg's of water.

On my ride I was pushing it hard. I have been informed that heavy fines apply to campers in Yalata land, and I've also been told to keep careful with my bike when camping as drunken by passers might try to take it. I didn't know how many of these comments would be relevant, as I know a lot of negative innuendo spreads about Aboriginal communities. When riding and looking at the vast amounts of natural bush land I gathered it would be hard for the Aboriginal guys to inspect every bit of it and I'd probably be right camping. The main reason I was pushing it hard was because I didn't want to be a trespass on their land. I sort of look at it like stealing, if I'm camping without a permit. I don't want to sleep on their land with out permission so really persisted through out the day on the bike.

On my ride I had a couple of really nice gentleman pull over to offer some help. First I had a Turkish man. This was crazy, he slowed down next to me and yelled out "How are you brother??" I said "Great!! Take care brother!". He went a bit ahead and pulled over. His accent was very thick and I here learnt he was Turkish. I tested my Turkish out and asked how e was. He answered and continue in English. He started offering me food, in particular fresh vegetables. I said thank you in Turkish, he was then surprised and asked if I was Turkish. I said no but that I've been over there and learnt a few phrases. As he continued grabbing me more food I was getting a bit worried about the weight. He gave me a big tin of fruit, a bag of pita bread, Afghan bread, around 1-5kg of fresh olives, half a kilo of a nut and sultana mix, 2 lemons, 5 onions and then a bag of tomatoes and cucumbers. When he gave me the cucumbers and tomatoes he had the bag full of water. He explained back in Turkey they did that to keep them fresh. I was worried about water getting in my bags so he then grabbed a few plastic bags and wrapped up even more. His actions reminded me exactly of a Turkish man working in a market, or any persons not accustomed to a western lifestyle for that matter, as he ran back and forth with speed and efficiency. A far cry from the lazy Australian women in a roadhouse last week who couldn't figure out how to put some noodles in the microwave. The man started looking for places on my bike to hang the olives, as I was running out of room. I couldn't believe how much he gave to me. He kept asking me to pray to Allah for him, so I started repeating "InsyaAllah". A phrase I learnt through travelling, meaning God willing. He was very friendly, and he than started talking Arabic to me. He actually thought I was a Muslim, and when I said I wasn't he was quite shocked. He pointed to my beard and said "What about your beard, look like Muslim". The thought went through my mind this man must have been a little nervous taking all these veggies across the border quarantine. I could tell this wasn't the only reason he was palming it off as he was genuinely a nice man. He repeatedly offered me a lift and with difficulty I had to decline. Was very tempting though..

Later on a Northern Irish gentleman stopped and gave me a few cans of soft drink. I drank them in two seconds, very cold and refreshing. I kept pushing and at around 135km in, 15km off the Nullabor roadhouse, I set up my tent in a parking bay area. I figured it was on the border of Yalata land so I'd be hard done by for trespassing. I also saw another camper van here an they believed it was fine for camping. This was good enough for me. I thought, this couldn't get any better, beautiful open bush land and free accommodation. I set up my tent yet was very difficult as the wind was blowing it away. After finally setting it up I asked the lady at the van for a bit of water to put in my bottle. She poured about half a glass full in there. I couldn't understand why she wouldn't fill the bottle up, just a small mount franklin one. I was grateful for the water but it made me think. It's hard to generalise, but an old Australian lady fails to give me a few hundred ml of water yet two foreigners pull there cars up from 110km to offer me anything they have.

After this I went back to my tent. Not long after the man came and offered me some left over food. That then put a smile on my face! I sat here in the wilderness having the old couples left over avocado in a pita bread wrap with olives and tomatoes from the Turkish man. Not long after my dinner I saw big set of eyes glaring off the full moon above. I grabbed my light only to realise it was a big dingo a few meters off my tent. This was a crazy sight, the first wild dingo I've ever seen. I realised its going to be a long night..













Day 54 (Penong to Nnundroo)

Day: 80km

I had a disrupted sleep last night with the wedding going on and a few people talking close by to my tent. I approached the two men and asked them to be a bit quieter. I was expecting a smart ass comment but they were surprisingly very nice about it. This morning I wanted to thank them for being quiet, as they were camping close by. One of the men had left but the other was still around. As I was talking with him he offered me some fish that he caught the day before. This was very fresh and I was very grateful for it. Not what most people would call a good breakfast before descent bike ride, but my body definitely appreciated it.

The ride to Nundroo was quiet in terms of traffic and farms, but kept me busy in looking at the large amounts of natural shrub land. I much prefer to look at these natural landscapes as my mind is consistently active. I scan through the various plant species, trying to see if I'm familiar with any, why their use might be and also try to imaging how the Aboriginals of the area managed this land. I saw a few dead wombats, which is really sad when you see how cute they are. Their paws almost resemble a small child's hand. I also saw a live one waddling through the shrubs.

Pulling into Nundroo I was starving. I was relieved to see they had a road house, as this meant I could get quick food, and not deplete my food stock for the oncoming days. I was surprised to see in the roadhouse a group of young attractive european girls running the place. I was really stunned. I realised it would have some relation to visa extension. After talking with them I learnt that it was classified as farm work, as it is so rural. Makes you realise how much trouble country Australia would be in if the work couldn't be outsourced. I must admit, it's a lot better dealing with worldly travellers in these country towns, rather than the narrow minded and often grumpy old Australian women that usually run the small roadhouses.

I investigated here about volunteering at Yalata. Yalata is Aboriginal owned and ran land that many people have actually told me to deter. Yalata begins roughly two km's pass Nundroo and in my short time here this afternoon I've seen quite a few come in. This is very disheartening as the only thing I saw these people buy is coke and potato chips. After talking with the girls they confirmed this even more by saying every day the Aboriginal people from Yalata will come to buy alcohol, fast food or soft drink. They explained that Yalata is a dry zone so the roadhouse can only sell alcohol to certain people or only sell mid strength beer. The aboriginal people are also reported as asking other people to buy the alcohol for them.

I tried to converse with one gentleman at the front of the roadhouse. I asked what his language is, but he appeared to be under the influence o some sort. He said very broken "English my language". I heard a few talk and knew it wasn't English. I tried some Pintjarra that I learnt and definitely got the mans attention. After the man left I asked around a bit more about Yalata and its people. I had been informed that they speak a southern dialect of Pintjarra, which bears many similarities to the dialect I observed in Pt Augusta. The man I spoke with did youth work at Yalata and seemed to be culturally aware of different Aboriginal people around the country. I queried him about permits and how I'd go about camping on their land. He has been the first person I've met to actually talk positive of Yalata, and most possibly Aboriginal people in general. He was wrapped when I said I wanted to volunteer so he said he would investigate or me tomorrow. The only problem with this however is that I might have to have a day doing nothing in this small roadhouse, while I wait or him to get back to me.

There is no phone reception here so I will have to spend the day relaxing, rathe than catching up on stuff back home. This is somewhat difficult to relax here as there is literally thousands of flies, perhaps the most I've ever encountered. Can't believe these European girls persist out here! I've decided to wait for the mans response tomorrow, and if he gets back to me early enough and says there's no work I will go ahead with the 150km to pass Yalata. If he believes there's work for me than I might be getting comfortable with the flies for a week or so..







Monday 25 February 2013

Day 53 (Ceduna to Penong)

Day: 75 km

This morning I was very irritated as I cut a cable to my speedometer on my bike. I realised it was half broken already from the extreme heat and it was probably time for a new one anyway. I was fortunate that in town they actually had a bike agile that sold speedometers. I spent a painstakingly hurtful $70 on a speedometer, but kept thinking that it would be very helpful for my ride over the Nullarbor.

I had one more smoothie then took off in the heavy heat for the next town. The people in town that I spoke with expressed deep concern as they explained it was going to be around 50degrees today. I realised at this point that my body has adapted quite well to this weather as it is now a lot more tolerable than what is has been in the last week or so.

As I was riding along a long and quiet country road a man in a car pulled up in front of me. The car was covered in stickers, ones resembling a bogan Australians car. A few thought went through my mind at this point. The man wound down the window and yelled out "Is your name Jamie?". I was thinking how on earth did this guy know my name.. He explained he'd just been in Iron Knob and was at the missionaries house where I stopped the other day. They told him to give there greetings to me if he passed me on the bike. I thought this was very nice, but was still a little freaked by this guy. He looked like a nasty bugger, covered in what looked like backyard tattoos and scars on his face. Perhaps he is a born again Christian.

After this I continued riding in the heat until I pulled up in a small county town called Penong. Their was a big sign in town saying "Last shop for 1000km". Here it sunk in that the next week or two is going to be very long and gruelling. Unfortunately the shop was closed, so I couldn't even get last supplies. Luckily I still have many goods from Ceduna still. I stayed here, despite a surprising rowdiness around the small town fin a country wedding going on.

All night at the local footy oval was an Aussie band playing cover songs. This was shocking, a real monotone guitarist not being able to hit any notes that made the songs which he played originally popular. I realised that the local country people still would have been wrapped to have a band out in the middle of nowhere.

Another 80km to do tomorrow!







Day 52 (Ceduna - Rest Day)

This morning I woke up feeling great after the big feed I had last night. Today my plans were to learn about local Aboriginal cultures, investigate around town as to what the thoughts are on the Aboriginal presence in town and then to get all my gear together before I leave for the Nullabor tomorrow.

The weather is extremely hot here. It is hard to get comfortable, as when you might find a shaded area to relax a million Mosquitos will then bite you.

In the morning I was keen to get into town and have a banana smoothie. I had two yesterday afternoon when arriving in town and couldn't wait to get another. It's great in these country towns, as you don't have big business chains destroying the hospitality sector. This seems to retain quality home cooked foods and in this case well made fruit smoothies. I went down to the shops with the couple I spent last night with.

We sat together enjoying the smoothie in town. As we were sitting there many aboriginal children were coming into the bakery. All the children wanted were sausage rolls and fizzy drinks, usually coke. The couple I were with started to feel really uncomfortable, also having concern of their car as they thought it may not have been locked properly. Although the Aboriginal people seem very wild around this town they don't appear to be aggressive people or have the mindset to cause trouble. It was in this situation I could see very easily how generalisations form. This is not to say the condition of this community isn't genuinely shocking, but I was definitely eager and confident that there had to be another side to what we were seeing.

The couple had to shoot off and I once again said goodbye to some other valued travel companions. After they left I went into the information centre asking about any information on Aboriginal culture in the area. The lady was pretty surly and wasn't to keen to talk about the Aboriginal culture. She expressed that the people around town are not even an inkling to how bad Aboriginal communities are. I managed to find out about a cultural centre close by and went over for a look.

In the centre I saw a section out the back for languages in the area. In the room I met two people who were sitting at desks talking. It felt as if it wasn't a room designed for tourists, but after introducing my self I managed to pull up a seat with them. We got along like a house on fire, talking mostly about political issues and the current work being done with indigenous languages around the country. It helped as I managed to know a few people that they've dealt with back in Victoria. After this tension had dropped even more as it seemed a level of trust had been formed through the mutual acquaintances we had.

During our conversation the gentleman there offered to take me out on Country. I couldn't believe it, I was wrapped. It almost felt surreal, as this is one o the main things I've been looking forward to on my trip. The two had also explained much if the Aboriginal presence in town is a mix of people from northern parts travelling down here to escape heat and chase alcohol.

I went back to the caravan park and had to get my stuff sorted quickly so I'd be ready for tomorrow. About an hour later the man came to pick me up. His name is Gubby, meaning water in Wirangu language. This man was very intelligent, not only on his own culture but also in understanding political structures. This is an area he has had to deal with a lot from what he told me. I learnt a lot off him, not only about the plants and stories of the country and culture but also the type of issues associated with Native title and other political issues associated with Indigenous self determination. Other issues we spoke about also included alcoholism amongst his people.

This time was really unbelievable. He took me out on their traditional country, showed me bush foods along with some saltwater foods, such as oysters that we snacked on, and also the dreaming stories of the country. I could tell it was great for both of us to get out on country and enjoy the time together.

At the end of the night Gubbi dropped me back at the caravan park. I could sense a uncomforted feeling from him, as I expected he felt out of place in the caravan park. This is a business ran by local white people and I realised that other local aboriginal people may have been told to leave in the past for one reason or another. This is the impression I got but it could have been anything. I told him he was a guest of mine and that I had some kangaroo meat in the caravan kitchen. His eyes lit up and we ate the kangaroo together.

I said my farewells and hope to see him again. He has plans to head to Melbourne so I will wait and see what happens.












Day 51 (Haslam to Ceduna)

Day: 70km

Today was boiling hot. I was pushing hard in the heat and was very relieved to get into town. I scanned the surrounding area for caravan parks as I am hoping to recover here before starting the Nulllabor. I have been informed by many people Ceduna is the last proper town before heading over the Nullabor.

Arriving into town it is very uninviting, as there are a number of Aboriginal people wandering the streets intoxicated. It is really a very alarming scene, as many will approach you asking for money or alcohol of some sort. I took time to talk to a few, who could barely even manage a conversation. What ever words they did say were centred around alcohol. It showed me that it is a different type of intoxication that these people have. In general most persons who are intoxicated will talk rubbish about a random topic for a long time or they will ramble about some other useless information, as I'm sure those of you reading would know. All these people here would talk about is getting more booze. This is a genuine shame, and I feel that not only myself but every Australian should feel for. It was not drinking for any other reason than to wipe themselves out. This is the type of lifestyle that is fuelled by excessive government welfare, a lack of cultural understanding and an afraid non-indigenous population who don't know how to deal with it. Having three heavily advertised bottle shops in town also wouldn't help. This is what makes our indigenous populations living standards among the worst in the whole world. The young children who weren't drinking alcohol were all drinking cola or eating junk foods. This has made me feel very uncomfortable, and irritates me knowing this type of lifestyle can happen within such an established country.

I found a good caravan park where I can rest for a day before I take on the Nullabor. In my camp site are two Christian people who are very nice. We've spent the night talking about different issues and having a bit of fun. We were fortunate as some other campers came up to give us some food. This has been delicious, as we have eaten fresh crab along with some healthy veggies.





Day 50 (Streaky Bay to Haslam)

Day: 60km

I was planning on having a day off here. This is a gorgeous little town, made even better by a nice bay for swimming. I slept free last night on the sand, and thought I'd do the same tonight. The only downfall to this is that I then have to ride 120km tomorrow to Ceduna.

I decided around midday that I'd head halfway and make tomorrow a bit easier for my self. I was informed that there is free camping in this small area called Haslam.

I met a few people in town this morning and had a bit of fun together. I spent time with two young guys travelling the coast and we got along well. We were kicking a footy around and had a good swim. It was crazy when we were out swimming as I bumped into a family from Rye as well. Rye is a small beach town where I grew up till the age of 12. The family knew my name and one of the boys was in the same class as my middle brother. They also played basketball together. When I said my name he instantly asked if my brother was Scott. He was very lively when hearing he was my brother, asking enthusiastically how he was going. I explained that as part of my trip I'm fundraising for a youth focused organisation. One that helps troubled youth, particularly those into the drug scene. I explained I haven't been able to talk properly with my brother for a number of years now and that he is in a very bad condition. The family were quite shocked, as they remembered him as a kid who was very lively and always fun to be around.

We had a good chat and then in the afternoon I shot off for Haslam. On my ride there, it was quite ironic as I received some great news of my oldest brother. He had just found out that he is going to be a father for the first time. In these situations I think even more of my middle brother and the type of life he could of had.






Day 49 (Wudinna to Streaky Bay)

Day: 158.90km
Time on bike: 7hours 7minutes

I slept like a baby last night. It is very reenergising to have a good wash and a comfortable bed. As much as I love being out in a natural setting it sometimes becomes frustrating, as countless ants, mosquitos and heavy wind become very annoying after a while. If I knew the proper bush remedies and types of plants that provide the right smoke as repellent then I'd be loving it. It is also a little frustrating having to set the tent up solo in these conditions.

After talking with my new American friend last night I decided to head to the coast today. This was an added detour but I thought would be more scenic. I rode about 100km to Pt Kenny, where I thought I'd set up camp. Pulling in to Pt Kenny I didn't have a great feeling. There was a very strong tail wind in the direction of Streaky Bay, the town I was planning on going to next. I had a look on the map and realised Elliston was roughly 20km in the opposite direction. I had been informed a while ago of a severe massacre in Elliston, where roughly 100 Aboriginal people were forced off a cliff. I was unaware I was so close. Perhaps this was why I felt unease pulling into Pt Kenny and why the wind was pushing me outwards.

Pt Kenny is very small, only having a small milk bar and a pub. It's amazing how every small town lacks basic supplies and services, yet always have a pub... I asked the man in the milk bar if he knew anything about the Aboriginal culture, in particularly about the history at Elliston. He laughed, claiming that "All the abos had been killed". I asked if he knew what the massacre in Elliston was about, he had no idea. I asked if there were any museums or plaques in the area, he said there was nothing around.

It was late in the day and it was 60km to Streaky Bay. I decided that I wouldn't stay Pt Kenny, and that I'd take advantage of a strong tail wind. As I was at the front about to leave an old lady walked in to the milk bar. She gave me one of the most foul looks I had ever seen. I wasn't sure if it was because I looked scruffy, with a beard and all, or if it was because I had an Aboriginal flag on the bike. I said G'day and got little response. This made me realise that the mentality of older Australians is genuinely no different to the same line of thinking that Nazi Germany had. The fact that these old people, even my Australian grandparents, condoned policy for forcibly removing children from families, numerous massacres, discreet slavery, and genocide through strategic government planning illustrates this. These things happened all as the people went by day to day life, with nobody caring. They can claim they had no idea of what was happening or they had no choice, the same as the German nazis. No difference really at all. An old bloke yesterday I spoke with told me stories of an "Abo"who worked on their farm, and he couldn't believe the Aboriginal man wanted money. He said laughing, the greedy bastard got fed, can't believe he expected money!!

The spot I'm in now is beautiful. Streaky Bay is a lot nicer than Pt Kenny. The wind is incredibly strong though!!!





Tuesday 19 February 2013

Day 48 (Kimba to Wudinna)

Day: 105km
Weather: 40+

I surprisingly had a good sleep last night, even though I slept on an ant field in a gravel car park. I got up, packed all my gear and had some brekky with the French girls before I shot off. They were both very nice and I'm hoping to bump into them again somewhere throughout the journey.

As I left in the morning the towns sirens started going off. They sounded exactly like sirens from an old war movie, as if to indicate a raid was about to take place. Thinking about it these sirens could have potentially been set up for this purpose back in the day. Moments later a few fire trucks flew past. As it was stinking hot I started thinking about how perfect these conditions are for fire. Very hot, dry arid farmland, windy day and not a lot of water in the area. Without stressing about it I inquired around town to find out where the fire was. I was informed that it was in the same direction where I was heading. From what the locals heard it didn't appear to be very serious. I figured I wouldn't be deviating off any main roads today, so I took off despite these fire alarms.

The ride was hard at times with wind, but the reduction in km's from yesterday made today's ride seem a lot easier. Today I made sure to load up on plenty of water, as I knew it would be at least 90km before I'd see any civilisation.

It was getting late in the day. I had about 14 km to go at around 17:15. I realise most towns close at 18:00 so I pushed the pace a little harder to make sure I get in on time. I was really keen to get into a grocer so I could get some veggies to mix with my cous cous. My diets has chiefly consisted of starched, processed foods lately and I'm now craving something wholesome. I pulled into town with 5 minutes left. I ran in and got my self some discounted beans and fresh fruit. As I walked out of the grocer I asked a few locals about any free spots to set up my tent. The town had a caravan park but this cost over $24.

I was standing at the front of the grocer contemplating my next move when seconds later an American man came up to chat with me. Admittedly I was to buggered to get involved in the conversation so wasn't overly keen to talk. Seconds later he offered me a room to stay, my ears certainly pricked up then. I followed him a few hundred meters down the road and brought my gear inside his place. This man is an absolute gentleman. He is a GP working around South Australia as a rural doctor. He gets given small apartments to live in for a week or so while he works in town. His wife's in Adelaide and he decided to come here around two years ago for a lifestyle change.

The thing I liked most about this man is that he understood what I'm doing. He just got it. I didn't have to try explain my trip, where I'm going or anything else. He understood me very well. An example is also how he reacted when I said I don't eat meat, again just understanding without interrogating. He turned the tv off as soon as I ate my dinner, another thing I appreciated. It was as if he could understand what I was about. It's very rare to meet people who are naturally the same way inclined. He explained to me that he rode his motorbike around the U.S when he was younger, so I've gathered he's also got an adventurous spirit.

He was offering me food, beers, soaps and anything else you could think of. I started doing some reparations on my bike and he even got me some tape to help fix it. I really couldn't believe my luck. Not only I have a free room, I've met an unbelievably great person who I'll remember throughout my journey.

I've had a good wash up and now jumped into a comfortable bed. A great way to wind down after a few hot days and long riding!