Well, maybe I would have been better off putting up with the traffic noise and sleeping in the tray. As it turns out, a comfortable rear seat, didn’t equate to a comfortable bed for the night, as I spent most of my time stretched out like a baby in a womb. I woke up feeling unrested, cramped and sore. Not a great way to start a big day on the road, but hey, I must battle on.

My first call of duty was to back track, north up the highway, oh, about 5 miles or so. I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this, but for those that are a bit slow on the uptake, I’ll spell it out. A visit to the ‘dog on the tuckerbox’, 5 miles from Gundagai was in order. It was decidedly smaller than I recall, and barely worth the effort. I must continue to seek out BIG things for the ‘The Beast’ to become aquainted with.

Sheep Dog. (See what I did there?)

With the dog ticked off my Sydney to Melbourne must see list, I cranked up the radio, pumping out both types of music (that is, country AND western), then turned to head south again.

It was at Holbrook I next decided to stretch the legs, checking out the enigma that must surely be the worlds only inland submarine. Partially submerged as it were, in the middle of a park, I was bitterly disappointed to find upon closer inspection that it is nothing but a fibreglass shell. I hope the locals realise this, in case some sneaky thief has made off with the real thing.

The Beast ponders Holbrooks claim to fame.

Not much further down the road, I sighted a ute held high aloft atop a quirky red roof. ‘The Beast’ was intrigued. So I stopped in at the iconic Ettamogah Pub, hoping for a coldie or two and a counterie to see me through to Melbourne. More disappointment was all I faced, when I found the entire complex closed and surrounded by chain wire fencing. It didn’t stop the obligatory photograph however, fence and all.

No. You can’t sit on the roof too!

It was onto the home stretch then, crossing the border back into Victoria and bound for the next BIG thing to come our way. Welcome to Euroa and an oversized Ned Kelly. Not a fan of the man myself, but he certainly does represent a very important part of our lands history. And it was chance to get a photo of the Big Ram paying homage to a Big Ned.

The Beast bows to Big Ned.

From there it was a non-stop trip back into the burbs, where I finally filled the tank of ‘The Beast’. Whilst the bill sent a shiver down my spine, the figures told a different story. We managed an extremely respectable 13L/100Km. Of course it helps that I drive like I’m barefoot and there’s pins stuck to the accelerator.

There was one final stop for the road trip, to drop in and see Bec at work. She was yet to meet ‘The Beast’ and I knew that a few of her work mates had expressed an interest in it also. You can but imagine my surprise when I rocked up to find that dozens of people had left the confines of their office to witness my momentous arrival. There was Bec, front and centre, surrounded by a hoard of her colleagues. I half expected her to pop the cork on a bottle of champagne. I felt like a rock star as I suavely alighted from the belly of ‘The Beast’, only to be told by Bec: “I have to go back to work. There’s been an emergency and we’ve all been evacuated.”

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.