Day 47 (Port Augusta to Kimba)

Day: 165km
Weather: 40+ degrees

This morning before I left I was fortunate enough to talk with a native land manager from a tribe starting with A, possibly Anmatjara, but was difficult to understand so am only speculating. He was a very nice man and we managed to click straight away. I quizzed him about the work he did but then also got into the topic of his tribes culture. He explained to me that the young people, both male and female have to go through initiation processes. I could tell he didn't want to let too much of his cultural traditions out, so readily to a stranger, so I didn't push it any further. He did however mention some past history of his family, in particular how his father was stolen. He explained his father was half Irish descent and half Aboriginal. His father grew up on country so was still practicing culture. He explained that when the Europeans took him from his family they put a chain around his neck and connected him to ten or so other young men. He said that when they'd stop for a rest the white fellas would tie them around a tree with the chain. This made me so angry and annoyed, and when asking the man his view I could see it was very deep for him. We both acknowledged that many white Australians don't know this past. We spoke about these factors contributing to the disparity that still exists today.

As I left for the ride it was gruelling. I had to ride 70km straight before I could get some shade. The place I stopped at was an old mining town called Iron Knob. I thought at this particular place I could get a cold drink in a shop, but it turned out this town is no longer active. I was spewing, I was so buggered and desperately needed a drink. I also needed to fill up my water as I was critically low.

As I was clutching straws I started searching for a water tank, or tap in someone's garden. There was nothing around. It is as if nuclear weapons have been tested here and the whole town has had to evacuate. Surrounding the town the landscape is desolate. It is obvious its human inflicted and from what I've gathered from the signs around town, it has been around 100 years of iron ore mining.

I saw a garage half open and a sign on it saying Christian Sunday school. As much as I have no interest in these people I knocked on the door to load up on water. They took me in and sat me down. It was an older couple, man and women. I must admit they were very welcoming. The room freaked me out a little as it was covered in Jesus memorabilia and typical Christian messages scattered around the room. A lot of the messages were about god creating man, and having quotes linked to chapters out of the bible. I explained that I was keen to get going, yet the lady offered me a cold cordial drink and to also put my drink bottles in the freezer. I thought this was a good idea so I decided to have a breather. The whole conversation was about Jesus and other god related issues. I tried to steer it away yet the man kept bringing it back. I realised the lady was less talkative on this so I started directing conversation towards her. She knew a lot about nutrition and I found out these two actually met on the Internet. The lady only converted to Christianity in the last few years after she met him.

They started trying to tell me about the importance of missionaries. I became tired and was half asleep. I didn't want to let them know my opinions as I wanted to keep peace and get out of there. It got to a point where I had to say something, as I have a lot of angst towards missionaries, or any person who feels the need to manipulate other cultures. I wanted to steer clear of discussing Aboriginal cultures as I didn't want to give these people any ideas for further missionary work. I snuck it in discreetly and asked what they thought of indigenous cultures continuing traditions whilst still following Christianity. Unfortunately the majority of indigenous people, in Australia and the rest of the world, are heavily religious namely due to missionaries and other preachers. A lot of culture is being lost as a result, and along with it community identity. In every corner of the globe this is happening. The man responded by saying that the Aboriginal people have to chose, between their culture or god. He explained it is one or the other and it essentially means going to heaven or hell. Sitting in their house, having refreshing drinks, homemade biscuits and a comfortable chair I can see how so many indigenous people have been converted in the past. Traditionally these luxuries would have been very foreign, and on a day like this they are very enticing. When thinking about how discriminated Aboriginal people and other indigenous people have been historically, converting must have been a relief to the constant cultural struggles they would of had to face daily.

I ended up forcing my self out as I noticed the man was about to put on a video. As I left they asked me to sign a piece of paper with my details so they could send me some information. I had to think quick, as I already introduced my self. I wrote my name as James Andrews and put down a fake address back in Melbourne. It would have been to cruel to play a joke on any friends so I made sure it was fake. These people really act like a bunch of flies, consistently pestering you and not giving up. They also loaded me up with a bunch of books to take on the bike, explaining anybody who puts gods message in the bin will go to hell and that these need to be passed on.

As I left the lady also gave me a bag of pure rock salt as she explained the health benefits associated with it. They both actually had a salt breather, which was meant to fill your body with minerals every time you breathe it in. This place was getting weirder and weirder, although a salt breather made more sense then the religious sentiment they were providing. I took the salt with gratitude, as I knew my body would be low on salt from all the sweating in this heat. The lady also filled a bottle up with salt water and it tasted horrific.

I left with a couple of homemade Anzac cookies, water, a bag of salt, two books and a bunch of other religious items in a small bag, sort of like a small show bag. I was keen on ditching the books due to weight, but for two reasons held onto them. Firstly I would have felt bad for the couple if they found them on the side of the road and secondly I wanted to recycle the paper.

I pushed on for a further 95 km. This was a tough ride. Today has been the longest distance of riding I've done in this trip, and the km's feel somewhat multiplied by the heat. I ran low on water, literally having nothing as I pulled into town. I would've been in big trouble if I had any longer to go. About 10 km before Kimba, my final stop, a person stopped their car and waived me down for a bottle of water. I yelled out that I was very appreciative but kept going. I had good speed and was about to hit a hill. Being 10km off I wanted to keep going and also knew I was capable of getting in with the low water supply I had. It's good to know there's kind people out there though!

When I pulled into town I met some locals at the front of their house. This is a very small country town and the majority of its occupants have something to do in the agricultural sector. These people were cattle and wheat farmers and were very nice to me. They offered some water but I kindly declined as I thought I'd fill up from a tap in the roadhouse. After realising I had to pay for the tap water in the road house I went back and took the locals up on their offer. I managed to suss out where a free camp site was as well.

I pulled into the camp site and thought I'd be the only one here. It's stinking hot and I was covered in sweat so I found a hose in the park to give my self a good wash. After this I've gotten my dinner ready, only to have a bloke from W.A walk over and offered me a beer. He's also camping here. I was wrapped for the beer as it was nice and cold. I would've drank anything cold in this particular moment. Not long after this a four wheel drive with two good looking French girls pulled in. I almost thought I was dreaming, a free cold beer and then two good looking French girls!!

Time to enjoy my meal and get ready for another 110km tomorrow.

Day 46 (Pt Augusta - Forced rest day)

This morning I woke up still very annoyed. I was feeling more irritated at this point and my anger was starting to build. I had suspicions as to who may have took my phone but accusing someone is always a difficult thing. I realised that it was out of 3 or 4 different people, as not many people were coming through the camp ground kitchen in the period it was taken. I approached these people but each expressed the same surprise as each other and said they didn't see it. I was leaning to one of the guys in particular, a shoddy, cheap, wannabe American rapper telemarketer on a short work trip from Adelaide. Admittedly as soon as I saw this guy I wanted to punch his face in. Despite this feeling and the fact he was a genuine moron, and probable thief, I had no evidence and would not have been warranted to do anything to him. I let him know either way that I really needed my phone and that if he found it to hand it into camp reception (hoping it could ease pressure and that he could just drop it in saying he found it, if it were him). I was aware it was a younger person as the phone was switched off straight away, indicating they were cluey with smart phones and also familiar with the whole procedure of stealing a phone. This really hit me deep inside. I don't understand why people feel the need to steal. I'd imagine the guilt of this far out weighing the pleasure of stealing itself. For any person who is mature enough to understand the concept of stealing sympathy cannot be warranted for them. In Australia in particular, no person can physically find them selves in a situation requiring the need to steal, unless your a junkie of some sort and need quick cash for a short fix.

Anyhow I realised I couldn't sit around being pissed off all day so I went down to the police station in the morning. Surprise surprise the cops didn't give a toss. The officer wrote me the report and as he was casually explaining there's not much they can do. My angst for the laziness that is inherited amongst the Australian police force grew here. I explained to the officer I had the details of this person, as the camp ground had provided them to me. He wasn't interested. I explained that he was a telemarketer and he could be chased up through the company he worked with, maybe do a background check on him. Again not interested. The argument to defend this behaviour that "more important things need to be done" can genuinely not be warranted, especially in this situation. It was early in the morning and all the officers were sitting in the room with a coffee. It was evident they weren't bothered in going out on site. In this particular situation I realised that the police force system is ran similar to a business, where officers are incentivised to meet targets and unless you have an exceptional officer with initiative, everyday issues will not be resolved. It may not be written on paper or may not be publicly disclosed, but there is no doubt officers need to produce results. It is unfortunate these results are fining people for not wearing seatbelts, driving 5km over or what ever. Fair enough this is law and has to be done but it is a real shame the police force have an inbuilt laziness and no motivation for work, that doesn't fit in with this quota system. To many times I've had things stolen now, and observed the same behaviour over and over again.

At least I've gotten a police report and can now hopefully get a new phone through my dealer. I went into a phone network shop and had the phone canceled and sim changed etc. It is fortunate that smart phones are relatively cheap now and that I can still continue my photos etc. without to much disruption. On a positive side at least now I can get going and continue my trip.

After this I went to the Arid Lands Botanical Gardens with a Swiss guy from the campgrounds. This was great fun, although very very hot . We walked all day and I was buggered. I learnt a fair bit about plant use, in particular bush foods. I was yet again amazed by the Aboriginal knowledge of this environment. I took a few leaves off a medicinal tree and saved it for a cuppa tea later on this evening. As we left here I put the thumb out and the Swiss fellow and I tried to hitch a ride back into town. Eventually we got a lift for a few km's to the shop. We got some veggies and headed back into the camp grounds. We had a good feed and I am now ready again to shoot off for tomorrow. Roughly 160kms for tomorrow!!

Day 45 (Pt Augusta - Rest day)

This morning I woke up a bit heavy. The last few days have taken there toll on my body that's for sure. I realised today that it was very fortunate to have a rest day, as my next stop is 160km away. In this heat and the condition I'm in I would have struggled.

I went down to the cultural centre and was very relieved to get out of the sun. It is around 42degrees, according to a thermometer in town and feeling every bit of it. Once in the centre I was amazed at the knowledge and still continuing practices of the Indigenous people from the region. The most interesting thing about learning the culture in this part of Australia is that it is still actively practised. As unfortunate as it is and as much as I dislike saying this, the Aboriginal culture around Victoria seems that it is from a distant past. In this part of the country it feels strong and still thriving, at least from what I've gathered. I also think that as the Aboriginal population is larger here, more white fellas are exposed to the culture. In Victoria it comes across, and understandably so, that white fellas aren't welcome into the Aboriginal cultural domain.

The cultural centre was quiet and I was becoming very tired. I was in there for a good 3 hours. It was cool and comfortable inside so I decided to have a sleep on a couch in one of the rooms. I slept for about an hour, woke up then continued looking in the centre.

After the centre it was late in the afternoon so I decided to go down the beach area and see if the kids were around. I also had my mind on getting some things organised for tomorrow so wasn't overly keen on hanging around all night. Despite this I was very keen to have some fun with the kids again and also get in for a swim.

Sure enough all the kids and the man were out swimming in the water. The second they saw me they yelled at "Hey Jamie!!". They all swam in my direction and then headed over to the pontoon where we played yesterday. Today there were about 12 kids, maybe double as yesterday. The extra 6 were a group of young girls, also from Pintjarra country. We continued playing the same game as yesterday "Courties". This is great fun as it has also allowed me to communicate in a non interrogative manner. Throughout the game I'd try to ask the kids different questions and get an idea of the Pintjarra culture. I struck a good relationship with a few of the children, in particular one boy named George.

It was evident these kids have a deep connection with the land. A good example of this was when everyone stopped playing, as one of the children exclaimed "dolphin". I was looking thoroughly through the water and couldn't see any thing. The children and the older fella started making high pitched sounds, as if to communicate and attract the dolphin to where we were. They started kicking their legs in the water off the side of the pontoon. This was really a spectacular experience. The only other occasion I've heard somebody communicate with wildlife was during the time I spent in the Amazon and to a lesser extent my time on country in Broome. This does something to your soul, when you see fellow humans connecting with what the rest of dominant society see as feral or wild animals. It was a nostalgic feeling, as I thought of my time in this setting in the past and also as if it was taking me back to the way I felt life should be. In this state of mind any negativity releases and you purely focus on what's around you, a really incredible feeling. Sure enough a few minutes later two dolphins swam right up to the pontoon. They literally stayed still in the water as they had there fins sticking out in front of us. It seemed as if the dolphins were putting on a show for us. The kids asked me to call to the dolphin, I attempted but couldn't manage to get the same tone as them.

After this the young fella George kept starting conversation with me. He would ask different questions about different things. George had this overwhelming maturity for such a young fella, only 12 years old. Questions were asked such as if I had brothers or sisters, where I'm from, my surname etc. I found with many of the kids they were all interested if I had any siblings. I soon realised how tight kinship was for this family, also something I've learnt from other Aboriginal communities. It is these type of mannerisms that I see distinctly different to western orientated children. I know personally I barely speak with my brothers, yet this idea was very foreign to the Pintjarra children. They then asked what other language I spoke, insinuating I'd have an Aboriginal language. I explained I only spoke English, and white fellas in Melbourne aren't as smart as the black fellas in Alice Springs. They were somewhat surprised we didn't have a big Aboriginal presence in Melbourne, and additionally that we didn't have language. Thinking about it now I realise most other places they've been would have there own language, or at least different dialects to Pintjarra. I told the children they had to teach me. They started telling me words, and I soon realised the difference in perception that certain words carried. They told me a word for how are you, it was a single word and also meant more of a "you good yeah?" The word sounded something like "Budeyaya". A great insight to what appears to be a very intriguing culture.

Following this I left as they all continued playing. I had the same feeling that these guys were going to be out all night. This time I had reason to go as I wanted to organise my stuff and get an early sleep before a big day riding tomorrow. I was curious to hang around and see how long the kids actually stay out for. I said goodbye and all the kids said a spirited goodbye back. Similar to yesterday they asked if I would return as they waved me off. I said this time I won't and they wished me luck. The older fella also said goodbye, as it seemed we had formed some minor bond over the two days.

Back at the camp ground I had dinner and packed my stuff. I was ready for bed and looking forward to the sleep. As I finished packing my gear I realised my phone was missing. I looked for about an hour and still couldn't find it. A German bloke and Argentinian girl who were staying close by started looking as well. They were very friendly, trying to call it, using the flash light etc. I had it in the camp kitchen as I had dinner and soon realised someone had taken it while I was eating dinner. The phone was off and I couldn't get through. I felt so angry and also disappointed that someone would steal something like this. I could possibly understand if someone stole food or whatever but not an item that has all somebody's information in it. I then realised I'd have to report it tomorrow and sort out another phone. Looks like another day off now.

Day 44 (Pt Pirie to Pt Augusta)

Day: 103km


Scorching hot day requiring long hours on the bike. There was one town 30 or 40km in and I decided not to stop as I had plenty of food in the morning and was in a good rhythm on the bike. It was the most amount of straight km's I've done on the trip so far without stopping. It was very hot so when I pulled into town I was very relieved. The first thing I did was drink two powerades from the supermarket. I drank one, put the other in a freezer and then drank that before I even purchased them. The lady had a strange look on her face when I went through the checkout with two empty bottles...

As soon as I pulled into town I noticed a descent Aboriginal presence. The fellas in Pt Pirie informed me there would be more presence here, and also "to be careful" because of it. This statement didn't bother me but I was certainly interested about the presence in town, so was sort of looking out for it. Riding through the streets I saw the Wadlata cultural centre, looking similar to a cultural in Gariwerd (Grampians) region. The Gariwerd centre is great, so I instantly decided this is something I should check out. I went in and realised they closed in 45minutes. I thought this time would be insufficient so I decided it would be better to have a rest day and take a good look tomorrow.

As I left the centre I thought it would be a good idea to get in a quick swim, before I'd head off to find a camp site. As I pulled into town the water smelt putrid, as a result from local industry, so I wasn't keen on swimming in the waters on the outskirts. I asked a few locals and got told to head down towards the bridge in Pt Augusta. As I was riding there I rode past a park area where a family of Aboriginal people were sitting. I gave them a wave and heard them say something amongst themselves. I couldn't quite understand them but as the path was quite curvy I casually cruised past. They then saw the Aboriginal flag dangling on the back of my bike and gave me a good wave and shouted something out. I pulled up the bike not far away and jumped in for a swim. A few minutes later the Aboriginal family was walking over. There were perhaps 5 children from 5 to 14 years old and one man, looking maybe 30. They jumped in the water close to where I was and then said something that I couldn't understand. I said "Sorry, I couldn't hear what you said" they then repeat the same thing but again I couldn't really understand. As they were swimming off one of the kids said "You playing??". I wasn't sure what they were doing but thought bugger it I'll join in and hopefully learn a bit more about where they're from. I ended up figuring out what it was they were playing. It was a game called "Courties". Almost sounding like an aboriginal word the way they say it, but related to the fact the games about catching the other person (sort of like 'your it'). This was played out on a pontoon board out in the water so we could dive off and swim and chase the others and so on.

I found out they were Pintjarra people, from the Alice Springs area in N.T. The language they spoke was Pintjarra and the younger ones could speak both Pintjarra and also English, or mix of pigeon and broken English. I am pretty certain the older fella didn't speak English, as he didn't say anything in English, but also reluctant to talk to me in the few hours that we played. The only time he started speaking was after I started asking how to say things in Pintjarra to the children. I asked what "warrabella" meant or a word that sounded similar to that. It was the only thing I was referred to during the time we played courties. It was explained "wadjella" meant white fella in Pintjarra. The older bloke explained in his quiet and humble voice "Wadjella, sort've sound like white fella". After this interaction tension dropped a little and we interacted more in the game we were playing. I told them my name and I was no longer wadjella but now Jamie.

Around 3 and a half hours later I decided I should shoot off to find a camp ground. I was also getting quite cold. I kept looking at the others and realising they weren't going to stop anytime soon. It came across that they definitely had nothing else on that would be deemed more important. This feeling made me want to stay longer as I realised nothing is more important than times like these. It was here I could realise this type of 'whiteness' coming out in me. The feeling of time and that times to precious to enjoy the one thing for too long. It was like I had to do something else, if you think about we have this type of feeling everyday, you possibly have it now. We played from 5pm until 8:30pm so it felt like I should be having dinner or something. I wasn't hungry, it was a very beautiful place, beautiful swimming and unbelievably fun playing together. Despite this it was as if my brain was programmed to get going somewhere. I really had nothing to worry about but I kept having this feeling I needed to go somewhere. It reminded me of the mainstream society in the cities, racing home in there cars from work only to get inside and watch television. Admittedly I did have to find a place to stay, but I knew there was a caravan park and could've sorted that out later. After a while I forced my self to say goodbye. When I left they all asked if I was coming back tomorrow, giving me the feeling they were sad I was leaving. I explained that I would, yet thinking they will probably forget me by tomorrow anyway. They all waved an shouted "See ya tomorrow Jamie!!"

I rode off as the sun set to head into the camp site. I had to ride over the bridge and this was a very spectacular view. I could see all the Pintjarra kids, perhaps the darkest Aboriginal people I've seen, diving and swimming in the water. It was obvious to see these kids belonged to the land. In this this situation I felt sad and very sorry to those from the stolen generation. The children that missed out on this upbringing. I particularly had a thought for my old lecturer, a white fella who was an Aboriginal man of Pintjarra descent. It gave me a very happy feeling that these kids were still active in language and culture, out here appreciating every bit of it. Definitely not what other westernised kids in most parts of the globe are doing today..

Day 43 (Port Wakefield to Port Pire)

Day: 130km
Adelaide to Perth:
Total:

Today was a hard ride at times, mostly due to the heat. I packed all my gear up and left relatively early maybe 8:45am, from Port Wakefield which made it a lot easier getting to my destination before it got too late in the day. During my ride my knee was flaring up again, making it quite difficult to push out a descent speed. I must admit that the pain has somewhat decreased after a heavy night of stretching and foam roller exercise on my inner thigh. To my advantage I did have a slight tail wind, or at least no headwind, so I was able to maintain a descent speed throughout the day.

I stopped in a small town and had a break maybe 55km in. The town was called Snowtown and in it was a straight strip of basic shops. Sort of like what you'd picture an old western town to be, they had a butchers, bakery, post office and mechanics. Luckily they had an IGA grocer so I was able to get a cheaper snack.

As I was having a breather I was positioned close to a couple of locals having a chat. This has happened quite a bit in my trip, where I've had a breather at the front of the local grocer in a small country town and locals start conversation in front of me. I have noticed that it is in these rare situations and by the chance of bumping into each other, the locals have an opportunity to liaise and catch up on what seems to be local goss. The stuff the country people talk about always seems to be along the same lines. The main topic of this conversation was about farm equipment and sourcing a cheap buy. I was quite surprised as one of the farmers spoke about finding a bargain on eBay for some parts for his tractor. For one I was surprised this guy had Internet connection on his farm and secondly the old bloke was technologically savvy. Certainly shows the day and age we're in, when a farmer in outback Aus is on eBay..

After this I pushed out a consistent 80km to get into Port Pirie. Port Pirie is a fairly large town that has many and if not all the consumer items necessary. In town I was fortunate enough to get some natural anti-inflammatory tablets. I was searching in Adelaide but didn't look too hard and only found heavy ibuprofen tablets. I explained in the chemist that it's not pain I'm trying to eliminate but the actual swelling. Although this pain is heavy it's not my concern, she had trouble comprehending this. I am just concerned about the swelling and consistent wear and tear. Hopefully the swelling now decreases and with further stretching the pain and tension can be mitigated.

I jumped in for a swim in the local bay. This was a great way to cool down after a hot and long day. When I was in the bay I saw a few aboriginal kids swimming around. I was tempted to go start conversation and find out what mob they were from, yet thought I'd let the kids enjoy there time. I saw the mum but she was further away. I asked some young footy players who were having a rehab session if there was a big aboriginal presence around town. They told me not really and that the ones out swimming were a bit unusual for them. The feed back they gave contained undertones of prejudice, without being so direct. The response on this issue definitely wasn't in same vain as the rest of our conversation and the tone of the two shifted heavily to say the least.

I sussed out a cheap camp site as I was told big fines occurred for bush camping in the area. The cheapest place I found was $20, still what I consider to be excessively over priced. Whenever I speak with a caravan park and investigate the prices I tackle the situation the same way. I instantly ask for the cheapest spot and indicate straight away I don't care about power, services or any feature of the campgrounds. I then ask through conversation if they can reduce the general price as I am solo, on a bike and in a one man tent, explaining the room I take up is very small. What I really hope is they offer me to sleep in a car spot or somewhere out the back for half the price. When the conversation continues and I realise they don't have anywhere else I insinuate it is crazy they have nothing cheaper for a solo bike rider. When asked I explain that if they knew anywhere I could camp for free I would. In this situation the lady was very kind and reduced the price by $5. Might not seem like a lot but will definitely help. As you can see I can only really do this solo, or only with travellers in the same position like my friend Hong.

I don't mention this in these situations, as I'm not good in trying to sell my self off, but any money I have left at the end of my trip will go completely into the charity. And any person can trust me I am trying as hard as possible to finish under my budget, hence the reason for being extremely tight. I was fortunate to have good work before the trip and save enough money. This makes this trip a lot more appreciated knowing every cent gets you one more luxury. This is one of the reasons I become annoyed when people around me, who don't actually know me as a person, assume I receive some type of handouts or funding to pay for my trip. All the parts and everything so far has been funded by my savings, so this is another objective I have to finish under and put back into to my cause.

After a big lentil dinner, mixed with fresh lemon mint, broccoli and coconut milk I'm ready for bed. I nmust also mention it is torture here from all the Mosquitos and ants in my tent!!! Luckily these are small ones, but still annoying when trying to sleep!!

Day 42 (Adelaide to Port Wakefield)

Day: 103km
Total: speedometer busted to heat - will revise

This morning I woke up feeling great. Johnno dropped me off in the city and we said our final goodbyes. He is really a great guy. I know I'll be seeing him again and probably quite soon as I've left a bag of goods at his place till I finish my trip.

In the morning I caught up with the Japanese girl again. We had a smoothie in the city and had spoke about a few different things. She is a very kind person. It made me realise how lucky I am to have met so many great people on this trip. As I left she gave me a present. I was stunned as I really didn't expect it. It reminded me of the time i spent with my Japanese friend in Tasmania. She did not want me to open it until I left so I put it away in my bag. I'm thinking I'll open it when I get to the Nullabor. This will help if I start to feel alone but also give me something to look forward to.

The ride today was fairly hard. I put a new saddle on the bike and it took me a while to get used to. It feels more comfortable at first, as it has more padding, yet my bums still trying to adapt over longer distance. When I first left this morning I became very frustrated as a few things were playing up on my bike, namely my front wheel mud guard. Eventually I got it all sorted, despite trouble from the same metal clip a week or two ago. This is nothing to worry about at the moment, and the ride into Pt Wakefield was good.

When I pulled into town I asked around for free camping. The people I saw around town looked a little rugged so I wasn't keen on setting the tent up just anywhere. I managed to find a caravan park for $18, being affordable but enough to annoy me.

Straight after organising my tent site I asked a few locals if there was a grocer in town. The locals being either dumb as anything or shocked to see an outsider couldn't manage to figure out if the town had a grocer. The best suggestion was a cafe and these people were actually locals. Once arriving to the cafe I spoke to a local who explained there is a general store, however I just missed it by a few minutes...literally two minutes. I found out the location of the grocer as I then went looking for any fresh goods through their dumpy bins. After not having any luck I went back into the cafe. I asked the ladies in the cafe if they had any day old food they would sell to me for less. They said they only had bread, yet I was after something more filling as it is my dinner meal. I got my self a slurpee as I contemplated going back to the tent site to set up my cooker and have some lentils for dinner. As I was sitting there all of the sudden the ladies came up to me and offered some pasties and pies and also gave me four wraps they were going to throw out. Most of the food they offered me was full of meat, beef and ham (the two I don't eat and even through any exception). The main thing I like to do in this situation is show my desire for non-meat products as the best outcome for me is more places to stock vegetarian foods. Coming predominately from an environmental perspective I like the idea I can help influence business through more consumer demand. Being in this situation I was very hungry and definitely didn't want to show any ingratitude. I took the lot and ate the vegetarian pasty. All the other wraps I took back to my camp and picked out the meats. As I have not eaten these meats for sometime I am somewhat disgusted by the thought of eating it.

After my feed I've now jumped into bed and am ready for a big days riding tomorrow.

Day 41 (Adelaide - Rest Day)

Today was very busy. In the morning I had to pack all my stuff and go through all the bits and pieces that aren't necessary . I am starting to think about downsizing weight wise but more importantly space so I can carry all necessary goods for the Nullabor. After going through my bags all morning I was keen to head back to the Museum of South Australia. I went in the other day with the French guy and Austrian girl yet only briefly. The museum had a great section on Aboriginal history of Australia. It appears to be very informative and has a large collection of artefacts and culture teachings. When I came in with the others I decided straight away that I would come back alone as I knew I would of appeared extremely rude to them if I looked at the museum properly. As soon as I realised the extent of the section on Aboriginal Australia I had this rushed feeling of needing to know every single thing. I get this feeling a lot when I am in a rainforest, native bush land, read something related to natural observations or anything on indigenous communities and studies. I decided to be polite with the two foreigners and take my time explaining the history of European colonisation, right through to current times and conditions with Aboriginal people in Australia. As expected this museum did not touch on this stuff, the only museum I've seen that's done so had been in an aboriginal ran centre in Gariwerd.

The two had heard the same statements as most other people, particularly that they Aboriginal people are drunks and have trouble fitting into mainstream society. I explained that these statements stem from a large number of reasons. I delved into the issue of dysfunctional upbringings, on a generational scale, namely due to past discrimination and also being stolen or having family members that have been. They had not heard much about this issue and it made me realise how disillusioned mainstream Australian society is, particularly the government for ignoring this history in most facets of our society. We live in a community that is so quick to highlight negative areas of our Aboriginal people yet we never seem to highlight the mistreatment or even discriminating stereo types that practically every white Australian has.

After the museum I got focused on my trip and went to a camp store to pick up some last bits and pieces before I shoot off tomorrow. The main thing I needed was an extra water carrier, preferably one that was insulated to stop heat coming through. I now have roughly 17litres in water carriers, with rough capacity for 22 with all my bottle holders. Hoping this is enough.

After all this I finally met up with my mate, Johnno. This was great as I met him just a few hundred metres away from my hostel. He chucked my bike in the back of his car and we drove about 40 minutes to his place near the southern beaches of Adelaide. This is a friend I met a few years ago and we had got along instantly when we met. He coincidently has an interest in Aboriginal culture. It was a very special evening as not only did he tell me about the local Aboriginal culture but he also knew stories of the land and explained some political issues that are taking place at the moment. As the sun was going down we quickly went down to the beach for a refreshing swim. I was extremely glad to spend this evening with my friend and also appreciate the exact same things. On the way back to his house we drove past a few flag poles, bearing the Australian and Aboriginal flag. It made me proud, and I presume Johnno also, to see the Aboriginal flag. The reason it makes me proud is because it illustrates that Australia has an identity, and also a rich culture separate to our European history. When we arrived back at his house we cooked up a good feed and caught up on lost time.

Time for a good sleep as I know il now be in the bush for a number of weeks. Back on the road tomorrow!!