Stop nineteen to twenty-two

A small piece of advice; cruise ships are not fun.

Reading the last entry, I remember hoping that the boat would be really excitingly cheesy but sadly it wasn't. It just moved from side to side for ten hours until I got off. The only exciting person I met was an eighteen year old English backpacker who regaled in great detail how many drugs he had in his posssesion and was attempting to smuggle into Melbourne. I avoided eye contact for the rest of the trip just in case he was being monitored.

After a rather scary Tiger Airlines flight to Adelaide, (they ARE cheap for a reason) I arrived in the city of churches to find that, yes, there is a lot of churches. Just in case you were afraid of being mislead.

It is a reasonably sized city, but it is very quiet - more like a large country town. Shops shut at lunchtime on a Sunday, everyone is wearing this season's Target and Supre line, buskers play AC/DC etc. So after walking all over the city, 'doing' the art gallery, museum and botannical gardens - I went back to the hostel and mistakenly agreed to go to the pub with a group of fellow travellers.

To summarise: I drank more than was sensible.

Next stop, Wirrabara.

I stayed with a lovely family of Lutherans, not to be mistaken for Brethrens (who are just plain weird). The family said grace before every meal and has pictures that the children had coloured in on the wall of various cartoon saints and deciples performing cartoon acts of cartoon worship. It was all very quaint though and they did not try and convert me to anything so we parted ways amicably after a few days.

Another interesting fact for your next trivia night: There is no bus west of Ceduna, SA. The only way to get to Western Australia from South Australia (other than to drive or fly) is by train. So, off to Port Augusta I went and found myself facing...

TWENTY TWO HOURS ON A TRAIN! :(

A half hour into the train trip, an elderly Asian lady gave me a piece of chicken that was tainted with the devils poison and I proceeded to throw up for the entire twenty two hour ride.

Stepping off the train a little worse for wear I found myself in Kalgoorlie, the town with thirty pubs for 20,00 residents, nightly 'skimpies' (barmaids in lingerie) and bonafide 'brothel tours' at 2pm and 6pm. Do you want to walk into a pub to have a quiet beer and be the only female patron for two hundred male ones? Then head on down to Kalgoorlie!

Other things happened, things were said, places were visited, joy and frivolity prevailed but sadly folks my hour at the internet cafe is almost up and they charge through the nose.

I shall return promptly (if a month or so is prompt).

Shalom!

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