Living next door to Alice. Alice? Who the fuck is Alice?

The West McDonnell Ranges is famous for having a number of beautiful gorges and swimming holes. The first we drove past, Redbank Gorge, has a 45min walk to the swimming hole... can you guess if we went to that one? Answer: did we fuck.

The next two, Glen Helen Gorge and Ormiston Gorge, were very close to each other and both only had a two-minute walk to the swimming hole. We opted for Ormiston Gorge as it had a National Park campground and sounded a bit nicer. As we are out of season the campsite was quite empty, just the way we like it. There was also a kiosk that served lunch and cakes. At the start of this journey I would have balked at a national park with a fucking kiosk in it. I mean, how sell out is that? Jeez, we go to these places to be at one with nature and to get away from the concrete jungle. After four months on the road I loved that I could get a flat white coffee and homemade carrot cake here. We also had a lovely spinifex pigeon wandering around our table.

No cake for you

Oh, how life on the road has changed me.

After the cake, we went for a short walk to the swim hole. Over the past few months the lack of training and poor diet choice is starting to show. I am looking more and more like the contestants from fattest loser after they lost the weight… lots of loose skin. I have a feeling that I have already made that joke, but can’t be fucked to check.

Make a splash, fat boy.

That night, Becky cooked up some of her famous pasta stir-in sauce. Or it might have been her 3-minute noodle dish, I can’t really remember as it was a while ago, but it was definitely one of those, ‘cos that’s all we fucking eat these days.

The next morning we set off on the 4km walk around the gorge. The hardest bit was walking to the lookout, but even that was quite easy.

Pretty place

We were alone for most of the walk and had a lovely dip in a swimming hole deeper into the gorge. 

Trying a new version of solo synchronised swimming

We strolled back very content with our morning ramble. I even tried some rock hopping, but added a bit of parkour by spinning mid air. I really have peeled back the years on this holiday.

Street gymnastics

We visited the kiosk again to have lunch, both of us were looking forward to their homemade lasagne. Unfortunately, they only had one lasagne left, and as it was my birthday a few days ago Becky had it. I had to settle for some honey glazed beef thing with rice, which was ok. Becky said the lasagne was absolutely delicious. We both enjoyed a orange, spongy cake thing for pudding. We liked it here and I now think all national parks should have a kiosk that serves homemade food.

The rest of the day we sat around the campsite in the sweltering heat. We watched lots of different birds around the site, and had a lovely day. The only real drama came late in the day, when we suddenly noticed the 2^nd battery had drained. It had been a hot couple of days and nights, working the fridge a lot harder than normal, and we hadn’t been using the solar panels. We had a bit of panic and fluttered about, before deciding to drive to Glen Helen Gorge to recharge the battery a bit. We hoped that’d be enough keep the fridge running over night.

Another fucking gorge

Luckily this proved enough, and the next morning we headed off for new adventures, fridge running at full tilt keeping the opened jar of pasta stir-in sauce cold… phew! We stopped at Ellery Creek Big Hole for a morning swim. It had cooled significantly over the night and it was a bit fresh in the water. However, I was feeling brave, so jumped in and swam out. What a tough little boy I am.

Wade in the water

Feeling a little gorged out, we headed for our camping spot just outside Alice Springs. We had a hotel booked in Alice Springs for the next day, and didn’t want to waste our precious hotel time doing mundane jobs, so after setting up camp headed into Alice to wash the car, refuel and buy some tasty snacks and beers. Back at the site, we enjoyed the rest of the day drinking in nature.

After a boozy nights sleep, and multiple visits to the toilet to pee, we had one last place to tick off the list before leaving the West MacDonnell Ranges; Simpsons Gap. The gorge has a colony of rare black-footed wallabies, and we were lucky enough to spot one on the rocks.

What makes you so special?

And with that we bid farewell to nature for a few days, and headed for the hotel for a few nights away from the canvas and sleeping on the floor. That night we decided to go all the way and ordered room service, we both had barramundi and chips.

Because I'm worth it

We spent the rest of the night surfing the internet and relaxing… well, Becky did, as I slaved away on the blog.

The next morning I took the car to the mechanic to see what we could do about the engine light. The mechanic used his reader to tell me there were a few sensor problems, and it probably wasn’t worth doing anything now, as it could take a few days and wasn't a big issue. He also told me that the opal fuel they use here is utter shit and should be avoided. He dropped a few other car advice gems, and then charged me $40 for the scan… and he didn’t even give me a print out of the sensor codes I wanted. Admittedly I didn't ask for them, but he should have known.

Feeling upbeat about the car not being quite ready for the scrap yard yet, we spent the rest of the morning doing very little. In the arvo we went into the “city”, but it didn't impress us much apart from a giant picture of a thorny,

Two little cuties

That was enough outside, and we went back to just sit in the room watching bachelorette reruns. It was a brilliant day!

After a tearful goodbye to the room the next morning, we fuelled up, stocked up on pasta stir-in, ate lunch, dropped stuff off to a charity shop (but we don’t want to talk about that) and shipped out towards the NT/SA border.

We spent the night at the last roadhouse on the NT side. Here we discovered that we weren’t allowed to take any of the fruits and vegetables we’d just bought in Alice across the border into SA, because NT pests take all the jobs from the SA pests and just don't get the culture. We had a lot of lettuce and tomato in our sandwiches for dinner that night.

Before or after shot?

The next morning we crossed over into SA, without any fruit or vegetables in the car, honestly officer, because I promise we ate the last of it this morning.

New day, new state.

Becky was there too.

It’s my birthday and I’ll cry if I want to

We arrived at Watarrka national park around lunch time, and decided to eat before attempting the walk. Lunch consisted of digestives and cheese washed down with coke zero. It was some real gourmet shit. The walk itself starts with a hard 150m walk to the top of the canyon and our lack of training over the past 3 months was clear to see. We huffed and puffed, resting at the top by pretending we wanted to “take in the views”. Becky decided to give a different “yoga” pose a go; it was even funnier than the original.

If at first you don't succeed, try something new.

Since viewing these photos, Becky hasn’t stopped giggling about her attempts at yoga.

Once at the top the walk was fairly easy, and the effort was clearly worth it.

Stone dome

As we strolled the first 2km we were rewarded with some fantastic views and breath-taking scenery.

Big crack

There is an issue with long trips that you start to become saturated by amazing sights, and you can become a little cynical about some of the things you see, but so far the red centre hadn’t been one of those places. 

Cynical view

We stopped halfway to have some salted peanuts and water around a water hole that was a sacred place and we were asked not to swim in. It looked pretty manky, so we didn’t want to swim in it anyway.

No swimming

After about 4km we started to get tired, and it all started to look very similar. Overall it was a great walk, but I honestly think it was about 3km too long.

I'm out of here

We stayed at the Kings Canyon Resort, a place that had nothing but bad reviews and was the second most expensive campground we've stayed in after Yulara. As it was reasonably quiet, we didn’t mind it that much. I also finally got to have a shower, which Becky was very pleased about. 

As it was my birthday the next day, Becky snuck off and returned with a lovely surprise... 6 pack of Great Northern (they didn't have any Golds). I hadn’t had any beers since Laverton as the communities we were driving through were dry and I thought it best to not carry any alcohol. She then excitedly gave me my presents a day early; pack of pringles, marshmallows, chewy snakes, bite size mars and crispy m&ms. She also had a card, with a beautiful, touching message in it. It was a lovely gesture, and I was very happy with her gifts. For the next 10mins she talked about how well she’d done, and congratulated herself on her efforts. Once she’d finished patting herself on the back, she drank my beers and ate my snacks.

We continued the celebration with a sloppy pizza at the resort restaurant and then went to watch the sunset with everybody else that was staying in the resort.

Nothing like a sunset with your closest friends

As we went to bed a German man camped near us was cooking a lot of sausages and bacon. This riled Becky as she’d just washed the sheets and really didn’t want the tent smelling of pork. Luckily he stopped roughly the same time as Becky’s loud aggressive complaints to me had spilled into a “if that fat fuck doesn’t stop cooking soon I’m going to tell him I’m allergic to pork”.

The next morning the German man had bacon for breakfast. Becky wasn’t as angry as she was the previous evening, I think because the alcohol had worked itself out her system. She’s a very aggressive drunk, and I have to watch myself when she hits the sauce.

We decided to head for Finke Gorge NP, driving the Larapinta Drive loop. The drive itself was pretty easy, although there was a small section with terrible corrugations that brought back nasty memories from Mitchell Falls. The engine light came on too, for the first time since we left the Great Central highway… It seems the car enjoys corrugated roads as much as us.

We stopped in Hermannburg to have some birthday scones at an old missionary. They were very tasty, washed down with chocolate milkshake… cos I’m 42, init.

Who's a happy birthday boy?

The drive into Finke Gorge was quite rough, and again the engine light came on. For some reason I started to actually get a little concerned about this. Up to this point we had become quite blasé about it, but what if this was worse than I thought? I only have internet knowledge, and don’t really know anything about engines. We decided that once we had phone reception again I’d call a mechanic in Alice and get some proper advice. For this reason, we decided we would just camp here, and not risk the tougher drive into Palm Valley, where the actual walks were… this gave us a good excuse to just laze around.

That'll do pig

That evening we got to enjoy the sunset without the crowds. The campsite was very quiet, with only a few other campers. It was a great spot and a great end to my birthday.

Not the same without all the people around

By mid morning the next day all of the other campers had left. We didn’t really have much to do, and with the temperature reaching 40 degrees it was just as well. My biggest achievement of the day was finally unblocking the cars rear window washer! I just used our air compressor to blast the blockage out and I felt like I'd conquered my nemesis.

My other task was to work on something that caught my eye when we were in Perth. During our two-week period in the south, as my homeless man tan started to fade, I noticed how white my thighs were. Because I normally wear quite long shorts, my upper legs miss out on all that melanoma inducing sunlight. Now we were back in the heat, I decided that for the first time in my life I was going to sun my thighs.

Vogue, muthafucker!

It turns out sunbathing is boring as fuck, so after 10 mins I gave up, and we went to explore the area… but I made sure the thighs weren’t covered.

Bringing sexy back

The rest of the afternoon we pottered about the camp. As the afternoon wore on a few other campers came into the site. A young couple came over to borrow a pen, they seemed very pleasant and we chatted for a bit. As we talked the bloke asked how we could afford this. I was a little confused, and said by working for money. I realise now that I should have explained that we are middle-aged and have no kids or mortgage so aren’t shackled by the usual constraints imposed on grown-ups. We’re free, to do what we want, any old time, I said love me, hold me, love me, hold me, cause I’m free.

The next morning we left and drove the track out without issue.... except the engine light, that came on after 10 mins. We drove back into Hermannburg and started researching mechanics, as we do whenever we near a big town. The one with the best reviews said he could see the car as soon as we hit Alice Springs. He said as long as the car isn't in limp mode he wouldn't worry and it could wait until we'd explored the West MacDonnell ranges. 

We visited Goose Bluff first, the site of a meteor impact millions of long time ago. It was a 6km drive along a 4wd track and the engine light came on again, but I bet you guessed that would happen. It was ok, but it was no Wolfe Creek. It was here I decided to answer Becky's yoga challenge, and threw up what I think we can all agree was the winning pose. Forty-two and still as supple as a new born child!

Fucking killing it

I wanna rock, I want to rock!

After driving for so long, only seeing a few cars between roadhouses, it felt odd to pull up at Kata Tjuta and find a reasonable number of tourists milling about. We stopped at the first lookout area for lunch, and Becky went into what can only be described as a photo frenzy. The place was magnificent, and looked almost like it had been painted on to the sky. It was a slightly overcast day, so unfortunately none of the 872 photos that we took really convey the feel of the place. It was a very hot day so we opted of the Karingana walk at the Valley of the Winds, as it was shorter than the full circuit.

Cloudy, with a chance of sweating buckets

 It was a lovely walk, and the rocks and crevices were amazing.

DIRTY MINDED FUCKERS!

There were also some little zebra finches that filled the valley. Becky has become a real fan of the finches we've seen and insisted we post two pictures of the little birds.

Once we reached the lookout Becky decided to do a yoga pose she saw Lorelle doing on her Instagram. It seemed like a nice way of making the photo more interesting, and Becky seemed to think she pulled it off rather than looking like a 42 year old woman who'd never done yoga before in her life.

The pinnacle of the bastardisation of yoga has been reached

Becky asked me to do a similar pose later on, but I was too tired to try... that was my excuse anyway.

Nailed it!

We drove to several other lookouts and tried to get some nice shots but the clouds made the pictures look dull so we gave up and headed towards the famous red rock. It was on the 50km drive that we realised we hadn't yet paid to enter the park. It turns out if you enter from the central highway you avoid the entry gate situated between the park and Yulara, so you can view the sights without paying the $25pp fee. We'd originally planned to view the rock that evening, spend the night in the poorly rated, and very expensive Yulara campground, and then spend the majority of the next day there too. We started to think that maybe we could get it all done in one day, and not bother coming back to see it tomorrow and by doing this avoiding the entry gate and the fee.... I mean, how much rock do you need to see?

However, after further discussion about how stupid it would be to drive all this way, simply to rush around the thing to avoid spending $50, we decided to give the rock a second day, I mean the place is pretty special and deserves a second take. It was already getting quite late, so we opted for a quick drive around the base, then we'd watch the sunset before heading to Yulara.

The drive round was nice, and we stopped briefly to take a few photos.

Different up close

There is a specific location for sunset viewing, and even during off-peak periods like this, it still fills up. We circled around several times, before finding a spot. As we had 3G signal, I briefly skyped my parents to say hi, before we set about filling our memory cards with photos of the iconic red blob.

The classic sunset shot

As we stood there, it starts to dawn on you how many photos there must be of this place. We were one of 40-50 cars and that's not counting the coach parking sunset area, all snapping away in one out-of-season evening. However, the place is so iconic it's nice to get some of your own personal shots of the place.

Worth the 1000km of dirt roads

We stayed for as long as the light held...well I tried to leave, but Becky stopped me so we could enjoy the final changing colours.

photo 811

After the sun had set fully we headed towards Yulara for the night. It was dark by the time we reached the campground, which was just as well as the night disguises the number of people. It had been a long day, so we headed into the "town" to have dinner. There wasn't much choice, but we ended up having a reasonable tasting burger at the only casual restaurant. One of the most noticeable things about the place was the number of indigenous workers. In most of the communities we have passed through, the shops, campgrounds and roadhouses are run by outsiders. The resort at Yulara was bought up by the Indigenous Land Corporation in 2011, and the number of indigenous workers has grown from 2 in 2010, to 318 in 2017. Without wanting to sound like a patronising prick, it was nice to see the indigenous population at Australia's most famous landmark seemingly doing so well.

The next morning we awoke to a reasonably quiet campsite. In fact it had been much better than we'd been expecting, mainly because we were out of season and the tourist numbers are relativetly low. We packed up quickly and headed back to Uluru. We had much bluer skies, and even after paying our $50 entry fee we were pleased we returned for a second day.

New day, new light, new side

I'd specifically worn my PCYC Lang Park vest, so I could get a shot to send to my mate Adam. He put the shot on the clubs Instagram page. We got one of Becky too.

Got to warm up properly before attempting such complex yoga poses

We planned to do the 10km walk around the base, but it was hot so we only walked 6km in total, including two smaller walks. Besides, we decided it is better viewed as a whole from a far.

Different up close

The rock appears so smooth from distance, but up close there are plenty of caves and cracks. Becky, feeling like a yoga master, tried the bastardised yoga pose again... it's not even a real yoga pose.

Peeling back the years

It was a lovely walk, but there was one controversial walk left... the 348m walk up the rock itself. Although it is perfectly legal to walk up the rock, weather conditions permitting, it is considered a sacred sight by the local indigenous population, and they ask that people not climb it out of respect for their beliefs. I have always felt that this should be enough reason not to climb it, especially considering how the different communities all over Australia have been treated over the years, it seemed a small ask to respect the wishes of this community. The worst part is the rock is now "scarred" by all the visitors who have climbed it since the 1950's, leaving an eroded white trail on the rock.

The scar of Uluru

Having now visited the rock, I must admit a small part of me wanted to climb it, but I fought my inner dickhead and won... plus it was closed due to strong winds, so we continued with our walk on the ground. As we sat to rest in some shade under the rock, a bogan with a nice grey mullet walked past and we exchanged "ha's it gan?". He exclaimed he was frustrated, as the walk to the top was currently closed, and he really wanted to climb it. This confirmed to me that only selfish twats climb the rock, but I didn't say that and just replied, "hmmm, that's a shame". After our little sit-down we started our return walk and again passed the gate at the bottom of the climb and found it had been opened. We noticed bogan mullet man was striding towards the start. He saw me and gestured that I should join him, but I just pointed at my flip-flops as my excuse and shrugged my shoulders.

A typical climber!

The best part was he didn't even make it to the start of the saftey chain. The chain starts about 50m up, the thought being if you can't make it to the chain, you won't make it to the top. We got to watch as he turned, sat down, took some photos, looked at the soles of his shoes as if this was the reason he couldn't continue and then started his descent. I didn't wait around at the bottom to hear his excuses, and we continued our return walk back to the car chuckling to ourselves.

We did a final lap of the rock in the car, and Becky took the opportunity to do the "yoga" pose... and it was the worst of the lot.

I thought you were suppose to get better with practice?

She blamed me and my poor photographic skills. We headed for the sunset viewing area, where she tried again.

Better, but still...

It was better, but finally a light came on and she became self-aware of how bad they looked. We both found it hilarious, and she returned to the classic jump shot. Far more dignifying for a middle-aged lady.

Better to act your age!

And with that we left Uluru and headed for a free campsite called Curtin Springs for the night. I don't really have much to say about this place. It was OK for free but they charged $3 per shower. It worked well for what we needed, and Becky got to have her much needed morning shower. I saved us $3 and stank out the car. They also sold novelty items, like shit. It was amusing, but not $5 amusing

I've spent some money on crap, but this...

After we fuelled up, we shipped out with Kings Canyon in our sights, making a short stop to photograph Mount Conner, considered to potentially be the most photographed red herring in the world.

Not Uluru

The Way of the Outback

After an easy 7km dirt drive out of Goongarrie, we were back on main roads and safe again. The central highway was still marked as closed, and we hadn’t heard back from the Facebook group recommended as the best source of information by the lady at the information centre in Kalgoorlie. In fact the facebook group didn’t even mention the road closure. At this point we were starting to think the lady at the information centre in Kalgoorlie didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.

Our itinerary for the day was to visit the ghost town of Gwalia, before passing into Leonora to check in with the information centre, which would hopefully have someone slightly more competent than the fucktard at Kalgoorlie.

Gwalia was a gold-mining town that at its peak had more than 1000 residents, but is now largely deserted, with the town collapsing after the mine closed in the early 60’s. It is now mainly a tourist attraction, although there is still a gold mine there. We first went to the museum, which was free but encouraged a donation… we gave the best part of fuck all. It was OK; they had a war room about the men who worked there and died/fought in the World Wars, and a house named after the 31^st US president, Herbert Hoover, who lived there when he was in his early twenties and managing the mine. It was only when writing this did I realise that I was confusing him with J Edgar Hoover and I hadn’t really ever heard of him before. I’m glad we didn’t donate anything now, as that shit was fucking boring to write.

We then spent some time wandering around the restored buildings in the town. We did the thing where you pretend you live there.

Haha, look what those fuckers called a home.

or work at the bar

I'll take a pint of gold and a white wine spritzer for the lady

Becky even channelled her inner Stevie

I just called, to say, I love you

Great times were had. It was a very interesting place, as the miners themselves built the houses out of any old cheap shit they could find. It was no wonder they all left after the mine closed, as the houses were utter shit. But the town’s toilet was better than some of ones I’ve used on this trip.

At least it has a seat

After lunch we drove into Leonora to visit the information centre. Leonora itself didn’t look too far off being a ghost town, with many of the shops closed down. At least the information centre was open, and the lady was far more helpful than the turd in Kalgoorlie. The road was still closed, and contrary to what the twat from Kalgoorlie had said, closed to all traffic. In fact it will regularly close after heavy rain, something not mentioned on the fucking facebook page. She had no idea when it would open, but the weather forecast was good and suggested we should check with the Laverton information centre tomorrow. Dejected, we drove to the local caravan park to camp for the evening.

The park did little to improve our mood, as the tent site was tiny and the best we could do had us camped between gold fossickers, out to make their fortune. There were also a number of permanent residents, living out of their caravans, seemingly not realising the gold rush had ended in the region. The whole town was quite depressing, and the only place we could get a take away from was a petrol station. The two attendants were European, and after we'd ordered our shitty chips, Becky started asking them why they are there. She has been doing this with increasing regularity, either asking people if they had driven the Central Highway or if they are working in some shithole towns as part of their working visa. They were a Danish/German couple and were working in this little town to meet "real" Aussies. I didn't have the heart to tell them that real Aussies live in all the major cities too. After our shitty chips, we sat in the car surfing the internet. This was not a highlight of the trip... but nothing exploded and there was no fire in the engine, so that's something I guess.

The next morning we packed up and shipped out. We decided that we'd head for Laverton, and see what they had to say, but even if the road was closed we'd wait it out rather than drive back towards the cold, shitty weather in the south. We stopped briefly to fuel up, and Becky came out with a carrier bag full of presents for my birthday in a weeks time... I knew I'd have to work hard to keep myself from peeping at what she bought me during a 10 min shop in a Coles Express petrol station.

Laverton itself was much nicer than Leonora, and seemed in the grip of a new upgrade. As this is the gateway town for the Outback Way, we guessed this was a new tourist push... but we didn't confirm this by asking anyone. The tourist information was very helpful, and told us that although the road was still closed it should be open in the next few days and we could start the journey along if we liked! She then sorted out the permits to travel through the Aboriginal communities and did a good job in general giving us information... LOOK AND LEARN, KALGOORLIE! We thought we'd set out the next day, and set up at the local caravan park, which was also a great improvement on Leonora. We bought some Golds from the bottlo, where Becky asked the Scottish barmaid if she was working as part of a working visa. She was, and she liked it. Becky cooked some dinner, and we drank Golds. Today was a good day. And then I had to write the blog, which I was falling very behind on, as you may have noticed.

I'm so happy right now.

The next morning as we packed up Becky asked another couple staying in the park if they had driven the Central Highway. They had, and it was wet in spots but had nothing more to add, so that was a waste of time. We did learn from the NT government phone line that the road had opened to high clearance 4wd, therefore open to us... hurrah! And so we headed for the start of a proper drive through nothing.

Road to nowhere

So, this is just advice, right?

The roads we drove on that day were in fantastic shape and we had no issues making it all the way to Warburton, with a brief stop for lunch at Tjukayirla roadhouse. At Warburton we were again confronted with the terrible problems facing some indigenous communities in Australia... it was like something out of Mad Max. The whole camping compound was behind a security wall, with signs warning tourists to lock away any unleaded fuel away. The station only serves Opal fuel and the community is dry, so no beer for me. Despite the scary look, the campsite was very nice and well maintained. They also had a large number of resident peacocks, which had us entertained.

There were a number of babylon staying the at the place, with a couple of police dogs. Becky was full of questions, but didn't see an opening to start asking them that evening.

Po po, making themselves visible

That morning we were woken by the sounds of horny peacocks and much to Becky's enjoyment, a resident cat.

Becky's new mate

As we were pottering about, Becky seized an opportunity to ask the pigs a few questions. They were tasked with giving support to the small number of resident coppers in the communities around the central highway. It sounded like a tough job, and they had two police dogs with them. Warburton was the biggest community in the region, with a population of around 1000, but it was difficult to get an exact number as "they are very nomadic". After a pleasant chat with the filth, we went off to have breakfast.

In the breakfast room we were joined by two workmen. Becky was on a roll, and curious about how things worked here, asked them about their jobs. They were building car ports for the teachers in the community, and worked for a company responsible for aboriginal housing and community infrastructure across most of Australia. They had been everywhere across Australia and in some of the most remote communities. The conversation got a little stilted when they asked what I did, as I was in full bogan mode and this caused the mask to slip somewhat, "I was one of they fucking academics, at the University of fucking Queensland, studying the genetics of fucking sexual dimorphism, fucking, fucking". It was interesting to hear what it was like in the communities themselves. One of them made a comment about the amount of money the aboriginals get given by the government. I wanted to make a point about how it didn't look like the individuals living there had much money floating about, but it seemed the wrong place to start a tense political conversation.

As we left, we filled the car up with Opal fuel. This required asking an attendant to come out, unlock the cage, then take the padlock of the pump before filling the tank. It was a difficult place to comprehend, mainly as I'm a lefty and fully aware that I sit on top of the privilege pyramid. Being a middle-class, white, straight, educated, English male means I have never really felt the throws of oppression. I once wasn’t allowed to ride on the Black Hole at Alton Towers, as I wasn’t tall enough, but thinking back that was probably a safety thing, rather than institutionalised prejudice. Having no real first hand experience means my opinion carries no weight and this is difficult for me to admit as forming an opinion on a complex issue I learned about seconds beforehand is one of my talents; that, and being able to hold in my shit for up to five days. All I can say is that is was very sad to see first hand and it made me uncomfortable. Luckily we were leaving, and I felt much better for it.

Totally normal

Although the road was now open to us, we decided to head the short distance to Warakurna Roadhouse first, spend the night and push for Yulara the next day. this way we would have almost two days around the area, but only need to stay at the expensive Yulara for one night. The road to Warakurna was a lot rougher than the day before, but we saw a snake on the road and a few camels

Native camels

As Becky was taking this photo, the check engine light came on again for the first time since Perth. Becky was pretty freaked out, but I'd read loads of bullshit about knock sensors on the internet, so wasn't too worried at this point, because strangers who's credentials I knew nothing about had replied to someone with a different car and different problem, saying it wasn't anything to worry too much about. To calm Becky, I got out and opened the bonnet, checked the batteries weren't loose, stared blankly at the engine and said everything looked fine. I promised Becky I wouldn't turn the engine off until we reached Warakurna.

Despite the check engine light we reached Warakurna without issue. The place didn't seem as rough as Warburton, the campground didn't have security walls for instance. As we were paying for camping, the manager told us the road was closed towards Yulara. Confused, we told him we'd phoned the transport number and it had reopened. A second guy, buying some snacks confirmed the road was open. This is the quality of the information you get... even the roadhouse before the border gives the wrong fucking information. As we had some time that arvo I spent the afternoon blogging, as again I had fallen behind. I am literally in a red queen scenario, sprinting to stand still. I also googled "knock sensor" and "check engine light landcrusier" again, just for good measure.

We were up early the next morning, with the red centre in our sights. The car started fine, and there was no light. As we set off we saw another snake. This one didn't slither off, but struck out at the car as we passed. We circled back, and found a very angry mulga snake. It was not happy with us, and kept giving warning lunges at the car. We tried to video it, but we both got a little nervous with the windows down. As it moved away I edged closer with the car, which caused it to turn a strike out. I never want to meet this snake without 2 tons of metal protecting me.

Dun't fook wit me

Not long after, the check engine light came on again. Everything still sounded as before, so there wasn't much we could do, but again I promised Becky I'd keep the motor running until Kata Tjuta. The road was pretty rough until we reached the NT border for the second time on this trip... and they hadn't even bothered to make a different sign

De ja vu 1

De had vu 2

Once over the border the road smoothed out and the car was running fine. We had heard this would be the worse part of the journey, but found it very easy. The rain had left a few muddy puddles for us to drive through, some of which left the car coated in mud, but it was a pleasant end to a fun few days of driving through some amazing countryside and surprisingly different terrains, even with the distraction of a check engine light. As lunch time approached, Kata Tjuta (the Olgas) appeared on the horizon.

We made it!