Woo hoo! We actually achieved what might seem like the impossible today. We left the caravan park early and clawed back a whole 15 minutes. How exciting. That means of course that we can be expected back in Melbourne that much earlier. About 8:10PM sounds about right.

Not that we had far to go before making our first stop. We didn’t even reach the road, before we were pulling in at the bowsers of the Three Ways Roadhouse to offer ‘The Beast’ a drink of life giving dieseline. It would be the first of two re-fueling stops today, such was the number of kilometres we would traverse, not to mention the long distances between fuel stations along our prescribed route.

Once on the road, we were heading up the track, the compass pointing steadily North as we began our ascent to Darwin. The road was straight as a die in places, looking for all the world like a red, white and black hall runner, rolled out through a corridor of green foliage.

Whether it be because of a late end to the wet season, or that a permanent water source is close by, the surrounds today were made up of endless bush land of sparse, scraggly trees. We did cross a few bridges here and there throughout the day, a couple of the creeks beneath holding on tightly to the last vestiges of slimy green fluid, but in general, reliable water sources seemed to be few and far between. There were signs though, that at other times, the opposite could well hold true, evidenced by the warning signs that large tracts of low lying land could be subject to flooding.

With long rolling hills making up the country we were travelling, at times the horizon was barely a few hundred metres ahead of us as we chugged upwards. Reaching the low crests however, the land opened up beneath us, the horizon almost nothing more than a figment of your imagination, such was the distance away which it appeared. All of this, with nothing more in sight than the greenery of the scrub, divided neatly in half by the highway cutting a swathe down the middle. A remoter land is beyond comprehension.

The distances are such, that it was four hours of consistent 100Km/h or more driving to reach the first note worthy place for a rest break. Daly Waters promised an historic pub, and we couldn’t say we were disappointed. There was indeed a pub there, however, that really was about all there was. The pub served also as the local caravan park and fuel station, and apart from a small store selling leather goods, that was Daly Waters. A walk around town literally involved walking from one side of the road to the other, and that was it. It’s a tiny little dead end back water, which even the highway bypasses these days, some 5 kilometres to the east. Yet, it was bustling, such is the recognisance of the advertising. A site in the van park, had we been staying on as originally planned, would have been hard to come by, and even a parking spot was a tough ask when we first arrived.

Outside the historic Daly Waters Pub.

Inside the pub, we sipped on a cooling ale, from the much lauded choice of six beers available on tap, as we beheld the hotel. Every available piece of wall was adorned with all manner of badges, patches, stubby holders, hats, coins, scribbled graffiti and even a strung up line of bras that indicated a large number of the clientele are rather big boned. The brochures would have you believe that it’s memorabilia, but it was more like as if the entire collection of lost property built up over the years has ended up being moved from the back office, to cover the walls.

The eclectic decor within.

In the shaded beer garden, it wasn’t much of a different story, with registration plates, old bumper bars and even a thong tree giving an untidy but interesting feel to the area. What a quintessentially Aussie experience, even if it was staffed by foreign back packers, although that probably lends itself to the Aussie theme more than it detracts. Most of these type of outpost locales are staffed by mostly British tourists hoping to pay their way around Australia, by doing odd jobs here and there.

Sipping a cider in the beer garden.

Heading back out towards the highway, we had to back track a few kilometres, for our second refueling stop of the day. We had expected the township of Daly Waters to be a little bigger than it was, and as it turned out the only fuel available was from a bowser which we weren’t able to maneuver close enough to for the hose to reach. It only added a few kays to our overall trip, so was quite inconsequential. Not to mention about 10 cents a litre cheaper anyway.

With ‘The Beast’ happily sucking on a fresh tank of juice, it was then a straight through run to our camp spot for the night. We have chosen to make use of another free rest area, and camp by the side of the road again.

Arriving as we did at just before 3:15PM, we found it to be a rather small space, which was already home to quite a number of other vans and motor homes and was reaching capacity rapidly. We managed to slide right into a nice little space where a stand of trees threw a modicum of shade our way, and the ground was as level as we could expect. Certainly nothing that couldn’t be fixed by sliding a couple of ramps beneath the caravan wheels.

That then, was pretty much our day. We retreated to the van, throwing open all of the windows and hatches we could in an effort to encourage a cooling breeze to blow through, but it made little difference to the intensity of the heat, which might have been better measured in kelvins. Bec and the dogs don’t do heat so well, so a frozen bag of chicken pieces which was to become dinner, also became a cold pack to ease Becs discomfort as she bathed the dogs in cool water. With any luck, with the sun edging ever closer to the horizon, it will soon begin to cool down for them.

Once dinner had thawed, and was of no further use to Bec as an ice pack, we hooked the dogs onto their leashes, and went for a walk about the small camping area. It was actually blissfully cool outside, given the stifling conditions within the van. What was going to be a quick wander, to allow the dogs to relieve themselves, turned into over an hour, as we stopped and chatted to a few of the other campers. One couple from New South Wales is near the beginning of their own around Australia expedition, while another couple from Bendigo were more than happy to rave about their satellite TV set up, expressing how easy it is to set up, not to mention being able to have TV reception wherever you are. Bec and I quickly decided that we may have to go shopping in Darwin.

You realise something as you meet people in this way. It doesn’t matter from whence you came, nor does it matter who you are, because we all have one thing in common. We all love Australia, the great outdoors and the freedom you can only get from tugging your accommodation along behind you. Whether that be in the form of a caravan, a campervan, a motorhome, or any other form of portable accommodation. There really are only three questions that matter: Where are you from? Where’d you come from today? Where are you off to next? With slight iterations, these points could be discussed at length all night long and nothing else matters a damn.

By the time we returned to the van, it was pitch black, but the temperature had failed to recede as we had hoped. It didn’t help that we had to have the gas stove roaring away for nearly half an hour to get dinner ready. You can use the stove for a space heater in winter, let alone lighting it in this heat.

A cool shower was just the thing, but even after that, we were quickly bathed in a layer of sweat again. It’s days like this on which even I am blissfully dreaming of a cold Melbourne winters day. Nah, who I am I kidding!

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