Too much to say…

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Never take the same route twice, that’s kind of our motto. This is why on March first, leaving Magnetic Island, we decided to cross Australia from North to South trough the bush, the antechamber of the famous Outback. Ahead of us then lay a journey into the Great Unpopulated Land, if I allow myself to give it a name. It has been an absolute meditation, a “lucky pick” filled with surprising landscapes, a tremendously beneficial exercise of breathing fresh air and a wonderful encounter with cowboys and the like.

We started 133 km west of Townsville, in Charters Towers. The picturesque main street with its displays of lace-like iron on the buildings’ corners melted our hearts in the bright sun. Already, many teenagers were strolling around clothed with the most conventional cowboy outfit: hat, boots, and high waist jeans. I was ecstatic (because you know, I looove finding myself in places I’m not used to…).

Many people smiled mysteriously when told of our road plans. We understood when ,exhausted but revitalized, we stopped in a mini-village to camp for the night after having driven about 400 km on a road with NOTHING but infinite horizons. There was one stop: an empty store with two old fuel pumps, a smoking cowboy and a sleeping dog. We also waved our hands at some lonesome cows but they were too busy grazing to answer. So we ended up in Clermont, in gem country. There we met people who lived their lives in a small caravan park and survived by selling the gold they were fossicking for. They were selling metal detectors and trying to convince us we could make a living out of digging rocks, but we had to learn “how to” by buying a DVD that cost $ 79...

Then we hit the floods. It hasn’t rained like this for more than 150 years. 80 % of St.George’s population was evacuated. But you know what? Sadness of loosing houses and belongings was eclipsed by extreme joy of finally making it out of the 10 years drought alive, and with filled water tanks that will be quenching everyone for years. It’s always good to find happiness in misfortunes.

Along the way we saw lush greenness and dry flatness; everywhere the master pastoralists succeeded in creating a liveable country for their different herds. As we made our way south the cows neighboured huge amounts of sheep, some emus, a handful of deer and alpacas, all visited by loads of friendly birds, rabbits and of course, roos. In Central New South Wales, we zoomed across vast cotton, corn, lavender fields and saw many olive groves. I swear the little villages we visited don’t see many tourists from overseas. An Aussie friend we met on the road also said that we had seen vistas that about 0.2 % of Australians had seen. Taking a Bundaberg ginger beer in a desolated tavern populated by worn out cowboys, well that was something.

Each village is so desperate to kidnap some travellers for a while that they all welcome you, one after another each 100 km or so, with a big sign saying they are the tidiest town in Australia 2006, or the friendliest town in Queensland 2008, and one even got as far as boasting it was Australia’s sporting capital (!?!). Moreover, it seems that they all asked their citizens to collect the old machinery, silverware and knick-knacks to create museums of fortune, for each small community invited us to visit their heritage museum, located in a big shed in the middle of town. They certainly can brag about the qualities of their grandmas and grandpas though; everywhere we stopped, we always met some kind white haired fairies of the bush always ready to marvel at our adventures and offer us their nicest smiles…We definitely prefer “live” heritage museums!

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