Bass Strait, as I touched on in earlier entries, is a particularly nasty piece of work. Australia's southern coastline is a treacherous place at the best of times, but the Strait's tally of sunken ships is, perhaps, second to none in this part of the world. The first European to lay eyes on this stretch of water was Matthew Flinders (him again... - he appears to have given his name to most places in Australia) in 1798. He named the Strait after the ship's doctor aboard his vessel, one George Bass. The Strait owes its troublesome disposition to its position, bang [View Full Entry]

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Coming off the Stuart Highway back in Port Augusta, it comes as something of a shock to be in urbanised Australia again. It's only taken us a little over a week to drive to Uluru and back from here, but the contrast between Australia's (relatively) densely populated coastline and its almost void interior is a particularly strong one. It's scarcely believable that the boutiques of Melbourne and the outback share the shame country, but share it they do. We need to get back to Melbourne in a week's time or so but there's a whole lot of the route between Port [View Full Entry]

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I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with R. Roadkill. As I mentioned it before it litters Australian highways to an absolutely astonishing extent. As we drove back along the Lassiter Highway from Yulara towards Marla, we kept a tally - to count as a fully-fledged item of roadkill, the body had to be entirely or partially on the road asphalt and had to be vaguely recognisable. Even with these stringent criteria, we counted more roadkill between Yulara and the Stuart Highway - several hundred kilometres of road - than we did cars. It's a wonder that there are any [View Full Entry]

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The campsite at Kings Canyon is an oasis in the middle of the immense desolate heart of Australia - all mod cons many hundreds of miles from anywhere. The Watarrka National Park, which encompasses the canyon, covers the western end of the George Gill Ranges which rise up out of the flat desert. The Canyon is a touch over 300 kilometres by road from Uluru (half that as the crow flies), but on an Australian scale this is but a tiny detour. Here the tiny Kings Creek, nothing but a dry bed for much of the year, has cut a passage [View Full Entry]

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Today we will be leaving the genteel world of wine-quaffing and cheese-tasting far behind. Leaving the ocean behind in the rear view mirror, we are heading due North towards the very centre of the Australia continent. Between us and our destination, Uluru - formerly Ayers Rock - lie thousands of kilometres of baking hot, dry and dusty outback and three days of driving. Three days that will hammer in the message, as if it needed hammering, that Australia is one very large country. Leaving Kapunda nice and early - the town's principal attraction is a giant statue of a Cornish tin [View Full Entry]

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We make our way off the ferry back onto the Fleurieu Peninsula - next stop, McLaren Vale. One of South Australia's several world-famous wine producing areas, McLaren Vale is located only half an hour's drive south of Adelaide. The region is centred around a small town of the same name, and it's 60 or so wineries churn out bottles sold all over the world. The jewel in McLaren Vale's wine crown is a ruby by the name of Shiraz - this variety represents over half the production of the area. The remaining half is not to be sniffed at (unless it's [View Full Entry]

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Leaving our campsite at Salt Creek, as well as Larry's remains - sucked dry and respectfully placed in the rubbish bin - we continue our drive northwards along the Limestone Coast before turning left towards the Fleurieu Peninsula. This finger of land juts out westwards into the Great Australian Bight, sixty or so kilometres south of Adelaide. "The Fleurieu" is a popular destination for holidaying Australians, and has acquired something of a "foodie" reputation. Sounds like our kind of place...Our destination for the moment, however, is not the peninsula itself but the island that lies at its [View Full Entry]

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The Great Ocean Road comes to its end too soon. What a drive…The remainder of the coastal road between Port Campbell and the South Australian border is somewhat less impressive, crossing as it does wide expanses of featureless agricultural land and large industrial towns such as Warrnambool. The rather tedious drive is spiced up, if that’s the correct word, by huge wind farms and a gargantuan cheese factory, complete with cheese museum. Not very much to go on… We spend a night in Nelson, a small town a few miles to the east of the Victoria-South Australia border. We&rsqu [View Full Entry]

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To the thousands of immigrants arriving in Australia two hundred years ago, the coastline we are driving along today would have been the first land in sight after many months of sailing in cramped and uncomfortable conditions. So far from home, the sight of the Victorian coast must have come as a huge relief, but the danger was far from over. South of here, not a speck of land separates Australia from Antarctica. Nothing to stand in the way of the wind and the waves. Stepping out of the campervan on our first stop along the coast, we suddenly understand why [View Full Entry]

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We're in a soulless Melbourne suburb of bargain furniture warehouses and budget supermarket to pick up our home for the next four weeks - a little campervan which, all going to plan, will take us many thousands of miles across the Australian continent. Alex has been planning a detailed itinerary for the past couple of weeks, and all we know is that we would like to get to Uluru and back. Where we stop on the way, and on the way back, is completely up to us. Hiring a campervan to tour Australia (or, more usually, a tiny part of it [View Full Entry]

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