Still Roadtrippin' Broome onwards

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June 4th 2009
Published: June 4th 2009
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So Kirsty and I made it to Broome, where we headed straight to Cable Beach. We were greeted by a perfectly blue sky merging with an even bluer, lapis lazuli sea with surf washing up on an incredibly wide, white beach dotted with sunbathers and surfers. After we exhausted the waitresses at a nearby café with our repeated demands for (free) ice water refills we set off to start advertising for people who want to share our sexy ride south. Kitty has six spare seats, a fact that seemed very unlikely when Kirsty and I have packed in a hurry and the back of the van is rammed full of rucksacks, pots and pans, gas stoves, a blow up mattress, fishing rods, a guitar and a lot of other random stuff that came with the van. Aside from the german girls we gave a lift to from Darwin, we had little luck with finding people to split the gigantic cost of petrol. A 46 year old Polish hitchhiker who we travelled with for a day and a half promised to send us 40 bucks by cheque to our Edinburgh home… something Kirsty is particularly sceptical about. Even if the meagre sum never materialises, he paid by breaking up my journey with amusing stories of his ex wives and of hitchhiking across most of the world.

After putting up a few “Looking for a lift South? Brother and sister leaving towards Perth in the next few days wanting people to share fun and fuel with” we parked up in a hostel car park and I lay about watching TV with the regular guests whilst Kirsty raided the book exchange coming away with a stash so big she needed me to help carry them out to the van. We slept well, until what is now a very familiar sound of people banging on our windows come sunrise to get us to move on. This usually involves me crawling into the front of the van and driving to the next nearest car park before attempting a little more slumber. Kirsty just lies immobile throughout all of this.

Broome was an interesting little town, but considering how much I had heard of it, after visiting the crocodile park and beaches there was surprisingly little more to do. We decided a picnic in the “oldest outdoor cinema in the world” may be nice, and with Kirsty very suitably choosing a nice bottle of wine (for her, I was still on my antibiotics…much to my annoyance) we settled down into the antique deck chairs to watch “Bottleshock“. T’was good. The highlight for me being that in the early 20th century when they set up the cinema, no one considered that nearly 100 years later, an international flight path will pass directly overhead from the airport behind. Aeroplanes had a knack of thundering overhead at the most crucial scenes of the film!

The next day after moving twice in the night (hostels at this stage were looking very tempting despite the price) we set off on our way south with our latest straggler. Mr Lancelot Beer, a great guy with a great name who should be sharing a lot of fun and adventure with us right down to Perth.

I wrote this all a few days ago. Since then the main highlights have been stopping for photos with every bit of road kill we see, rescuing an Echidna (really wierd ozzie version of a hedgehog, gorge walking and climbing in Karijini National Park, making friends with whatever randoms we camp next to each night, snorkelling the Western equivalent of the Great Barrier Reef and generally enjoying the ride south. Less fun things are the price of fuel, warm beers and it becoming noticably cooler each night. Also the recent second chip to our windscreen which we keep telling ourselves will not make Kitty and harder to sell come Perth. I certainly hope not!


4th June 2009

Is Mr Lancelot Beer's REAL name, Mr Lancelot Beer? If so, he is surely some sort of god incarnate. I think you should total up the money that you've saved from NOT sleeping in hostels (even the ones that'd have only cost you 100 rupees) and see how much it adds up to at the end of your trip. I'll laugh if you only saved 20 quid for all the sleeping on pee-puddle train stations you endured for the sake of it... :P

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