Another day in paradise / Freo, but unfortunately my last in Australia. I’m packing up and flying back to Marin tonight, which I’m really excited about, but I must say that I’m terribly sad to be leaving Oz. I feel safe in saying, today, that this has been one of the best trips I’ve ever taken, and I’ve been around the block a bit.

Australia is magical in so many ways – geography, weather, ocean and mountains, its people and its entire vibe. Comparisons with the States are inevitable, so here goes if you’re interested – Australia is far more civilized than the States. I didn’t meet, or see one person in my five weeks of travel here raise their voice or act in a rude or nasty manner towards anyone else. That includes adults and their children, who are astoundingly chilled and well-behaved compared to many I’ve seen back home.

In the States, a lot of people act as though they’re being put upon constantly (and many, in fact, are) – ground down under the pressures of work, family, life, etc. I never saw or felt that down under. People smile all the time, are cheery and super friendly, and it absolutely is not an act. It’s just the way everyone is here because life is so darned good. Wouldn’t you like to hit the beach and surf every day, for goodness’ sake, before heading off to the office or whatever else you’re doing? I sure would, and am gonna adopt the Aussie way of living and being happy and grateful all the time back in Marin. Shouldn’t have sold my surfboard last year, but another with my name on it most assuredly awaits…

The disparity in wealth and the two and three income workers so common in the States doesn’t appear to exist in Australia. People work one job, are paid well, have ample vacation time (and travel very widely) and don’t pay for many of the things Americans must – higher education, medical care and retirement (superannuation, as it’s called in Australia, is akin to the days when American companies paid pensions (remember that word?) to their employees, as in a defined benefit plan, without the employee having to fund them and stress over how they’ll be able to live in retirement). It works really well, and it’s wonderful. Do shareholders and senior management make a killing? Likely not, but that’s not what life is all about here. We could definitely take a lesson or ten from the Aussies here. Life is short, and I’ve never believed that we’re born to work until we drop dead. Not for me, mate. I totally get Australia’s values and paradigm, and absolutely love them.

These differences, I believe, make a huge difference to the fabric of life in both countries. In the States, people are consumed with obtaining and increasing wealth, and it is unfortunately, as we know,  a zero sum game. When the pie is redistributed, as it has so dramatically been over the past forty years in the States, there are most assuredly winners and losers. I believe that Donald Trump or someone like him could never appeal to as many people as he does if something very serious wasn’t wrong with the state of affairs back home.

I could go on and on, but another poignant difference is that people just aren’t disagreeable here. No one I met, and we met scores and scores of folks in our travels, acts as though you’re goring their ox if you disagree with them. It goes back to my core belief, forever, that you can disagree with others without being disagreeable. That is a bedrock reality here, but unfortunately not in the States. Another big difference is that people appear to be far closer to each other in wealth and income here than in the States. Venues, stadiums, beaches, parks, museums, restaurants and pretty much all the places that Aussies go are cheerfully shared and used by everyone in total harmony, and they’re beautiful places, all. In the States, there is an exclusivity about so many places. That kind of sucks for those who don’t or can’t go to them. This is a night and day difference – Aussies are all part of one big, happy team. In the States, many folks (some with bankrolls like the Yankees) with a lot of the pie live in a separate social and financial world, and don’t interact with vast numbers of their countrymen. That just can’t help but breed isolation and resentment. Think about it…

There, I’m off my soap box now… Time for fun recollections. Coogee Beach – ten miles south of Freo. The Surf Club there and everywhere (there’s one in every beach town) is a true community center – a really cool combination health club, gym, restaurant and place where everyone, old and young, hang out together in real happiness and camaraderie.

“Come on in – the water’s great.” Whoa.

Freo’s Shipwreck Museum. First one I’ve ever seen. Totally cool.

It’s said that this bloke was dispatched by great whites deep down, after drowning, then pieced back together by the marine archeologists who found him long after his unfortunate demise.

Dutch hull and Greek arch (huh?). Didn’t intuitively grasp the connection.

On the Esplanade. Art is everywhere in Freo, and it’s fun and inviting.

This was cast, no doubt, prior to the Elle McPherson era. Her doubles are everywhere down under. Amazing.

Freo’s fishing fleet – serious stuff. The seafood is so fresh and good here. Now I know why.

Neat story here. While walking out on Freo’s jetty and stopping for photos, I dropped my beloved Ray-Bans into the rocks. Down they went – 6 feet or more – and I couldn’t for the life of me even see a trace of them from where I stood and squirmed around, peering downward at every possible angle. Totally bummed, I kept at it, determined not to leave them to the sea. Finally, just before giving up and crying in my beer, I spied the very end of one of the earpieces. I headed back to a nearby shipyard and asked a fellow there if he had any stiff wire. “Of course, mate – be right back” was his reply. Five minutes later, I was back on the jetty and, miraculously, snagged my shades on the first try with the bent end of the baling wire we’d fashioned. That totally made my day, as the sun and water were super bright and I just didn’t want to say goodbye to my Aviators. A great rescue. Reminded me of my lifeguarding days on the beach out east…

I didn’t know, and hadn’t heard, what a didgeridoo was until we strolled into this local shop where we chatted up the owner, bought boomerangs and learned that they are very large native wind instruments still widely used throughout the country. Cool.

Back at my fave watering hole, again. What a neat name. No idea where it came from, but it must be a funny story.

Well, I guess the trip is now a wrap. I’m sitting in Melbourne’s airport, having a terrific cup of coffee after flying from Perth last night (Aussies absolutely love their coffee and really know how to make it), waiting for my flights to LA and San Francisco. This journey has been absolutely fantastic, far exceeding my expectations in every way imaginable. I’m so glad that I came and experienced what I have.

Thanks to everyone for following me on this jaunt. It has really felt good to have the connection with friends and family back home these past five weeks, and I appreciate it greatly. I’m already planning my next adventure, and one thing is sure – I’ll be back down under – no question about it. Although I covered a lot of ground during my stay – over 12,000 miles by road and quite a bit more in the air, I feel that I’ve barely scratched Australia’s magnificent surface in terms of its fabulous geographic, social and cultural riches. G’day, mates. It’s been a blast, and I can’t wait till my next visit to Oz.

Cheers,

Rich

Arrived in Perth Sunday night and headed to my hotel. Yesterday I woke up and poked around a bit before heading to Perth’s neighbor Fremantle (“Freo,” as locals affectionately call it), said by many to be the coolest town in Australia. That would be saying a lot, but it’s true, and I’ve seen a ton of cool towns on this trip.

Perth, early Monday morning. Really nice architecture and skyline, but cities are cities in many ways to me, so I was soon off to the beach. Itchin’ for some coastline again…

Cottesloe Beach, ten minutes from downtown Perth. A big storm moved through yesterday with 12′ swells. Today, the wind changed to offshore, things calmed down a bit and lots of surfers were out there with big grins.

Contemplating life. And the next ride…

This dude was hands down the coolest guy I’ve met in a while. He had a shower with hot water in his SUV, so after ripping it up out there he rinsed off, changed into natty threads and headed to work. Brilliant, mate.

Talk about a target-rich environment for photographing – Freo just blew me away. First stop was Fremantle Prison, opened in 1860 and closed in 1991. Yes – this medieval place stayed open until that recently. It was fascinating and chilling at the same time to visit the place, knowing how central to Australia’s history prisoners, convicts and their stories have always been. We had a terrific guide, whose knowledge of the place and story telling were totally enthralling.

Convict Church. Funny how the Church of England tortured and tormented the Crown’s prisoners throughout the world for centuries, including extracting slave labor from them, yet always provided the balm of religion and its message that you are loved and God will always be beside you.

Solitary confinement cell. Not a lot of room for stretching out here…

Inside the cell of an artist convict, who was allowed to ply his trade in his new home. I assume that he bribed the guards or played their girlfriend…

Death row cellblock. This cell was the last one you ever entered, for only two hours, the morning you met your maker at 8:00 am sharp in the gallows (don’t be late – it’s so impolite). The bucket beside the stool was for doing your (last) business. This cell’s starkness and raw power were absolutely chilling.

More artwork, in an outside recreation area where the notorious 1988 prison riot was hatched.

The gallows. No prisoner ever walked out of here. They were carried out in body bags after a shot of rum and the tightening of the noose sealed their fate. Wow – talk about focusing the mind…

Back in town, out and about. This little girl was wailing seconds before, but was just adorable when I locked my lens on her.

Totally tricked-out 1980 BMW R100S. Sweet ride. Chatted bikes with its owner for a while.

Native art. Galleries in town are fantastic.

Sidewalk marker.

Architectural whimsy in the process of being born beside stately neighbors.

Fremantle Battery and its original prison, overlooking the harbor. Man, these guys just loved locking people up.

Slipping into the zeitgeist… Definitely not an enjoyable feeling.

Say this three times fast. And I thought German was hard to pronounce.

Mens’ Room at the Battery. Magnificent.

Of what? Getting hit by a train?

A professor and his students chillin’ at an outdoor cafe close to Notre Dame, a local university that gives Freo a terrific, youthful vibe.

Peering inside a building on campus.

Monument to Portugese explorers who helped found Fremantle. Didn’t know they were part of its story.

The grand ferris wheel in Esplanade Park. This was big – each car held ten people.

More native art. I felt as though she was calling out to me.

Mark, the owner of a truly fantastic vinyl record store in town. Had to stop in and chat with him for a bit after hearing the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack album blasting from inside as we strolled by. Super guy.

Lots of bikes in Freo.

Little Creatures Brewing on Freo’s Esplanade. This VW pick up parked at the entrance really grabbed my attention, reminding me of Burning Girl, my 1978 VW Westy camper.

Chris, our bartender. Fun guy.

Freo folks just wanna have fun… Wish we were here for the fest. Wait – maybe we’ll just stay and wait a couple of weeks for it…

View from Little Creatures’ rear patio.

Two really fun local characters we chatted up for a bit. Both worked on the sea.

Just loved that Vee Dub.

Another fantastic day in a place I’ll definitely come back to. Make sure you see Fremantle if your travels take you down under. It truly rocks. Talk mañana…

Yesterday was a travel day – Hobart to Sydney to Perth (flying from Hobart to Perth requires a layover in one of Australia’s other major cities), but we had the morning to kick around in Hobart. It’s such a charming town in every way – its location, architecture, setting beneath Kunanyi (ancestral name) / Mr. Wellington and the people make it fantastic. Decided to head up there – 4,176′ above town via a very steep and winding road, but first we took a stroll around the harbor and had breakfast.

Breakfast restaurant. Fish for breakfast? You bet, mate.

A little-known fact – Hobart is Lester’s ancestral homeland. And yes, that also makes him a Tasmanian Devil (but we knew that).

Leaving the harbor, looking up towards Mt. Wellington.

Half way up, and the weather’s perfect. Not for long.

Winter bade a chilly hello as we climbed the road. This was only ten minutes from downtown’s harbor, where it was 60 degrees and sunny.

Quite cold up top and pretty much completely socked in, so we headed down after a short stay.

Here’s a map of my travels in Tasmania. There’s so much more to see, so I’ll have to come back. It really is magical here, and they’ve kept it so pristine and inviting. See you next time, Tassie….

Yesterday was spent kicking around Tassie’s northern stretches and making our way, after two road detours due to storm wash outs (my weather timing after this weeks’ rain and snow storms was perfect), to Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park.

Along the drive to the Park, outside Launceston. It turns from big town to countryside in the blink of an eye.

Indeed.

These murals astounded me. They were in the middle of nowhere, painted on the sides of a hydro electric plant building. How someone managed to get them there on ribbed walls fifteen feet high was beyond me. Natural art surrounded by nature – nice.

We had to turn around twice on really small back roads en route to the Park because of storm road damage and wash outs. Determined, we pushed on with good old-fashioned maps (no GPS or cell signals out there). The effort was so worth it – Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park is really something to behold.

Approaching the Park. High alpine tundra.

Surprise – me in front of the lens, captured by my crafty assistant.

Our timing was fantastic – it was really socked in a half hour away, the peaks barely visible through thick clouds, and as we finished our hike, the weather quickly closed in again. When we arrived and during our stay, however, things were perfect. We’ve really been blessed weather-wise the past five weeks. Someone has been smiling down on us, for sure.

Snow made the hike a bit slippery, but the woods and views were beautiful. Finally, it felt like winter down under.

Alas, the hand of man appears starkly in Queenstown and its environs in the form of mineral mining. Mountains laid low in a place where nature rules supreme is a shock, but reality often intrudes unexpectedly.

Heading back to Hobart, late afternoon, through Tassie’s gorgeous lake country.

Another terrific day. Tasmania is incredibly special. I hope to come back on my next visit down under. There’s so much more to see, and the people are so warm and engaging here, that returning is a must.

Off to Perth and Fremantle tomorrow. Urban drama – should be fun.

Today was superb in terms of weather, scenery and vibe. Just north of Swansea, heading for Coles Bay and Freycinet National Park.

Brekky view in Coles Bay, overlooking the Hazards in Freycinet NP.

The Hazards (named for sailors’ comfort, no doubt).

View towards mainland from Cape Tourville Lighthouse.

Friendly Beaches in Freycinet NP. Yes, that’s their real name.

Not sure why, but I had to stop and capture this. Hard to know if it was a good deal.

Lunch view in Bicheno. The seafood here is just fantastic.

Wish I had my GS here. The roads are perfect for twisting the throttle and ripping it up.

Even the animals have a majestic natural glow to them. This was on the ride from St. Helens to Launceston. I was gonna meander on the north coast, but I’m so glad I drove this way. The scenery was off the charts, with winding roads, mountain passes, tiny villages and crazy beautiful views everywhere.

His friends moseyed over for a peek. All young bulls. Then they stared me down…

Ben Lomand National Park’s skyline, north of Derby.

Female youngsters up the road.

The earth is just electric here, buzzing with energy and color.

Salmon fishing is religion here. This wonder was painted on a cliff and measured about a hundred feet across. Cool.

Chasing the sun en route to Launceston, late afternoon.

Launceston, Tasmania’s second largest settlement (74,000) after Hobart (200,000), appears out of the forest primeval in the north country. A bit surprising to see a pretty big town up here, but I had fun last night hanging with some locals. Exchanged numbers and texts with Adrian, a musician and petroleum engineer, before calling it a night (they were heading off to another pub and we were tired), and when we woke up and I turned my phone on this morning, I received his text, sent sometime late last night, saying, and I quote: “Hey, Richie, sorry to bother you but things turned south after we parted. I’ve been locked up for best part of the night. Could use your services?” Wow. Good call parting ways. .. Adrian has’t responded to my text today, so I guess he’s OK, or a prison guard has a new phone…  Off to Cradle Mountain National Park and other exotic treasures.

Tasmania is impossibly beautiful. It’s so pristine, so rugged and so earthy that it doesn’t compare to anywhere else I’ve ever been. Mountains, ocean and bays are everywhere, juxtaposed together into a spectacular landscape that defies description. Words fall really short in describing it, and I’m rarely at a loss for words.

Hobart, mid morning. Everywhere you peek, the water beckons.

Mount Wellington keeping sentinel over Hobart, snow-capped after this week’s storms. I’m headed up in a couple of days.

Arthur Circus in Battery Point. A circular street of gorgeous cottages constructed in the 1800’s to house British military officers. Very neat. I got the local history from a resident who stopped me to chat.

Seven Mile Beach, just minutes outside Hobart en route to the Tasman Peninsula. Holy smokes – beyond gorgeous, with a perfect break to boot.

Port Arthur started as a British timber outpost in 1830 and then converted in the ensuing decades to a brutal prison and convict settlement for incorrigible criminals who the Crown wanted as far from the UK as possible. Think they succeeded? Nobody was swimming back to Dover from here. Ah, the benefits of slave labor. The historic sight is amazingly well-preserved after the inevitable dilapidation caused by a hundred and eighty years of weathering. It was a bit eery to walk its grounds, which are located in a stunningly beautiful location. You could almost hear the screams and cries of its prisoners begging to be released from their misery. Sorry, fellas….break’s over…

Knowing how beautiful the countryside was outside your cell had to make one’s stay even more grim.

Cellblock with fireplace heat to keep the prisoners toasty and warm. Not. I’m sure the guards were kept quite comfy, however.

The Convict Church. I was blown away by this building. Even after its deterioration, it was magnificent to see and walk through. It really grabbed me.

The main cellblock, with hospital and barracks behind.

Tasman Blow Hole. Really wild as the waves were compressed and shot up a hundred feet.

En route from Port Arthur to Swansea on the east coast, where I stayed the night.

Approaching Swansea next morning, contemplating Freycinet National Park and its peninsula. Incredible.

I’m off to the northern stretches of Tassie today. Weather’s great – I’m psyched.

I’m sitting on the water in Manly, a gorgeous suburb of Sydney, and smiling a really big smile. This view on Manley’s promenade is just so perfect. Imagine living here and being a fifteen minute ferry commute to downtown Sydney. Send it in…

This is my third time in Manly in the past five weeks (whodathunk?), and life is good. Really good. For some reason, Manly called out to me today after the drive from Darwin, so I obliged, and I’m really glad that I did. The vibe here is just awesome.

I finished the 2,400 mile drive from Darwin to Sydney this morning after visiting Blue Mountains National Park in Katoomba earlier in the day. Absolutely beautiful place. It was a long drive, mate and the countryside coming into Katoomba was absolutely gorgeous after last night’s rains and clearing skies.

Decided to go to Tasmania for three days after the song of the Sirens kept tugging at me, so I’m off to the wildest parts of Australia (as I’ve been told by mates who know the lay of the land here) early tomorrow.

Aussies love to shorten words and add a “y” or an “ie” to the end of the abbreviated term, so to them I’m going to Tassy, or more commonly, Tassie. Pretty funny – breakfast is brekky, football is footy, chocolate is choccy, petrol is petty, and on and on. I love it because it’s part of how sweet and chilled everyone here is.

I mentioned the “Road Trains” here on Australia’s small, winding roads. Here’s a triple – small brother to the big boys – 4 very long full load trucks, which I’ve seen all too often. You get the idea…. Not fun to pass on the right at night going 135 KPH, but they’re good drivers unless they have to turn or stop…

Yes, indeed.

Three Sisters peaks in Blue Mountains National Park, Katoomba. The Park gets its name from the oil dispersed into the air by its Eucalyptus trees, which shades the landscape with a beautiful blue hue.

My buddies in Manly. Great gyros and conversation with Nikko and his son. Matt – you remember them.

This chap was so happy to look up and see me taking his photo. Only in Australia…

Sydney’s charms extend to its neighborhoods and architecture.

Met the sweetest Aussie lass, Kate, an engineer in the Australian Navy, and ended up chatting for over an hour on a street corner near the harbor. Here’s her toy. I was impressed.

Sydney’s downtown skyline at day’s end from the Art Gallery (following shot).

I popped in (it’s open ’till 10 pm every day – how cool) and wandered into a big party with the architects chosen for the museum’s expansion giving a presentation of the proposed work. What a super nice crowd.

Francesca, from a small town in Italy, educating me on great Italian wines. What an angel.

Outside my hotel.

1963 Porsche 356B. This couple was so happy to stop and chat with me on their night out on the town.

Off to Tassie. Really excited. Next post will be from the other side of the Tasman Sea… I’ve been told to be careful with Tassy Devils over there. No wonder….

Before I forget – an updated map of my journey so far:

Thought I’d change things up a bit with today’s reflections for a couple of reasons. First, today marked four weeks since I arrived in the Land Down Under, which is hard to believe. It has gone both delightfully slowly and really fast at the same time, depending on the time of day or night and the location I happen to be in when I reflect on things.

Second, I’ve seen a lot of blacktop the past two days, traveling from Darwin, up on the edge of the Northern Territory, to Barcaldine in Queensland, en route to Sydney – 1,463 miles so far on this leg, to be precise, according to Googlemaps, where I’m staying tonight before mushing on to the coast. As a result of my own personal Race Across Australia (only a part of it, to be sure) the past several days, I haven’t taken many photos of the outback. Rest assured that it’s really big and really vast, and this winter – the dry season in Australia – is very special because a lot of rain fell in the fall and the outback is a thousand beautiful shades of green. This is almost never seen here – kind of like the desert flower blooms in Death Valley. Reminds me of Marin in April after the winter rains.

As a result, I’m gonna look back a bit with some photos of the trip so far.

This trip has astounded me every day in countless ways, and I’m so thrilled that I decided to do it. As I mentioned in my first post, Australia has been high up on my “places to go” list forever, but I wanted to wait until I had enough time to do it justice. Although five weeks is a fairly good stretch of time, I could easily stay for another three to six months. Hell, I could easily live here. It’s that good. The landscape, the scenery and the people have blown me away. All have wildly exceeded my pretty high expectations. I’m so grateful for  that.

A couple of observations on my visit so far – I’ve seen almost no police, in the cities or out in the country. I haven’t seen one hunter or gun, which has really surprised me because in the States, once you get out west (and in hunting season pretty much everywhere), rifles in gun racks are de rigueur in virtually every pickup truck you see. By the way, crimes rates and those involving firearms are a tiny fraction here of what they are in the States. Food for thought…

Aussies are such happy and mellow people. They love to chat and hang out and love to tell you fantastic places to visit. I’ve also talked politics, as I’ve been here during the election for prime minister (which Malcolm Turnbull , the incumbent, won in a real squeaker), and have found no polemics or vitriol at all in my conversations, which is so rampant these days in the States. I’ve always believed that you can disagree without being disagreeable, and the folks here are totally that way.

I also had an interesting introduction to Australian criminal law at 9 am the other day en route from Uluru to Darwin. I was flagged down and stopped while driving slowly through Larimmah, a tiny place in the Northern Territory, by an indigenous police officer. When I came to a stop and rolled down my window to greet him (he looked very serious), he stuck a breathalyzer in my face without saying a word. Taken aback, I asked what was going on. He told me (and I don’t think race had anything to do with him stopping me) that I had no choice but to take the test. When I laughed and asked if he wouldn’t do better business at night, he said “Oh no, mate – there are roadhouses north and south of here, and folks drink all night then get in their cars and drive all day,” I got it. I didn’t put up any resistance, and was quickly on my way. That just wouldn’t happen in the States without the police officer interviewing you first and having a legitimate suspicion that you’d been drinking. Vive La difference.

Here are some shots from the past two days, when I didn’t have the pedal to the metal.

Litchfield National Park. This Cathedral Termite mound was over fifteen feet tall. Crazy. Imagine being tied down by the natives and eaten by these beasts. Oh, never mind….

The natives dress up Cathedral Termite mounds, which I couldn’t figure out at first, as folk art. It’s very cool to see all of the different ways they humanize mounds of earth.

Cooling off at Buley Rockhole in Litchfield NP.

Bush fires in Litchfield NP. Unlike in the States, fire is a natural part of the forest here. Fires are set in controlled ways by natives for many reasons, including hunting and agriculture, and natural fires are not suppressed. As a result, forests here are very healthy and bush fires are typically small and don’t burn out of control.

Dusk in Kakadu National Park.

My casa in Kakadu NP. They’re built off the ground (as many houses are) to protect you from all the Cathedral and Magnetic Termites (Magnetic Termites, which are blind, build their paper thin but tall nests aligned precisely with magnetic north, which minimizes the amount of sunlight that strikes them, keeping the mounds and creatures inside cool and comfortable).

Yes, it’s true – the legend of Crocodile Dundee is alive and well in the Outback.

On to the retrospective:

Trinity Beach on the north coast. Felt like Kauai. Truly sublime.

Sydney architecture.

Hill Inlet, Whitsunday Island. If Eden exists, this is it.

Town of 1770’s five mile beach (one of countless that long in Queensland and New South Wales).

The wreck of the SS Maheno on Fraser Island.

Evening in Noosa Heads.

Coffs Cove.

Matt in Lamington NP.

Waterfall on our Lamington hike.

Guess where.

Byron Bay – eastern most point of the continent and a great town.

‘Roos and Matt in Mallacoota.

Koala on Raymond Island.

Sorrento beach early morning.

Surfers’ dream.

Great Ocean Road.

Adelaide veterans’ protest.

Uluru basking in sunset with full moon rise. It confirmed my belief in a higher power.

Kevin, a/k/a Chevy, the proprietor of the Pink Panther Pub and Roadhouse in Larrimah.

Darwin’s Harbor.

Hope that was fun. I’m heading to the Blue Mountains in Wollemi National Park, a couple of hours inland from Sydney, tomorrow (thanks to Matt’s suggestion). After that, I’m off to Tasmania, which I’m really excited about. After Tasmania, Perth and Fremantle beckon. After that, reality and the States beckon….

The push from Uluru to Darwin was pretty big – 1,218 miles through the Northern Territory. I decided to split it into two days, stopping in Tennant Creek, pretty much in the middle of nowhere but halfway to Darwin on the Stuart Highway, which connects Darwin with Adelaide, 1,900 miles to the south. Because of Tennant Creek’s really small size and population (almost all natives), accommodation choices were very limited. The place I stayed in reminded me of a prison cell (not that I’ve spent a night in one, mind you), and I was more than happy to shove off the next morning for Darwin.

Giant Cathedral Termite mounds on the Stuart Highway. I thought these were rock formations at first – they get up to 15 feet tall. crazy. These were 3′ – 4′ in height. Wouldn’t want to mess with those ‘mites, mate.

Of course I had to stop at the Pink Panther Pub and Roadhouse in Daly Waters for gas (“Sorry, mate – our petrol station burned down twelve years ago”) and provisions. I’ve learned on this trip (and in Alaska) that when you live hundreds of miles from the nearest settlement and people, you can become rather whimsical. It’s a common theme in the outback. I think it helps take your mind off the isolation and sameness each day. Having said that, the folks that live and work in these tiny hamlets couldn’t be more friendly, outgoing or helpful. They are just fantastic people.

Local whimsy.

Dennis, a/k/a Chevy because of all the American cars he’s owned, is the proprietor of the PPP. I ordered a meat pie (one of the staples on the road here, which are actually quite good everywhere), and he gave me one, insisting that it was on the house. He said it had been in the oven keeping warm for a couple of hours and there was no charge What a swell guy. He wouldn’t let me pay him or buy anything (it was too early for a beer). We talked for a bit about American muscle cars – his knowledge was really impressive – after which it was time to say goodbye. A real charmer, that Chevy.

‘Nuf said.

Thursday night in Darwin. A native, after a bit too much imbibing on her bike. I think the charge was wobbly riding.

Mindil Beach sunset gathering. Reminded me of church.

Indigenous ladies enjoying the market.

Filed under the category Dumb, or at least wanting in personal safety. This mate was swimming with a 20 foot long, 80 year old giant salt water croc. Both his front feet had been bitten off in attacks long ago, so I guess he wasn’t too dangerous. Not. I was amazed that he could survive those attacks, but a ranger told me that they can slow their heart rate, and blood loss, down dramatically to avoiding bleeding to death after battle. Likely just one of the reasons they’ve been around for 200 million years…

Peering out at Darwin’s harbor.

I didn’t know that Darwin was bombed by the Japanese in WW II – by the same crew and only two months after Pearl Harbor was attacked. Darwin became very fortified shortly afterwards as the bulwark against a Japanese invasion of Australia, a very serious threat at the time until the U.S. took the fight to the Japs and prevented a full-on Australian invasion. A number of American sailors and soldiers also lost their lives in the attack, some going down in their harbored ships.

Darwin’s underground oil storage tanks (chiseled by hand into cliff rock), constructed shortly after the Japanese bombings.

Stokes Hill Wharf, with a bunch of great ethnic restaurants overlooking the Beagle Gulf and Timor Sea. The Asian food proximity and influence here are just fantastic.

Sunset and cocktails with Aussie friends last night.

This is my third day in Darwin, and I feel sad leaving. It’s such a cool place, and the weather up north (remember, it’s winter in Australia and it was kind of cool way down south in Adelaide and its environs) is amazing – 88F today. I’m off to Litchfield and Kakadu National Parks, after which I’ll meander through New South Wales and Queensland towards the Blue Mountains (Australia’s ski country – I may have to carve some turns) en route to Sydney. In Sydney, I’ll trade my wheels for wings, heading to Perth, Fremantle and the west coast for a bit before heading back to the States. Caiao for now.

A brief update post from Darwin – the End (of the continent):

Darwin is an impossibly seductive tropical town (Australia’s only) overlooking the Indonesian archipelago. Bali is a stone’s throw from here, and I might hop over for a look if time permits. Darwin’s fantastic – primeval and frontier-like, with  a super cool vibe. You can tell and feel that some people are here because it’s as far away from everyone and everything else as you can possibly get in Australia. Like Alaska in that way.

It’s absolutely great to be here for a couple of days. I’ve made some really nice friends, and was shown the town last night by some wonderful locals. I’m staying in a great hotel with all the amenities I haven’t had for three weeks, and suddenly I feel totally spoiled.

John Snodgrass made a brilliant suggestion today that I’ve pondered on these trips – a map showing where I’ve been (where I’m going is another story). I told Snoddy that it was a great idea, that I’d contemplated doing it for some time, but hadn’t gotten around to it.

No more excuses. Here’s where I’ve been so far:

Approximately 6,000 miles in three and a half weeks. Good thing I love to drive…. In trying to get a handle on the Australian landmass before my trip, I came upon a website that superimposed Australia on a map of the lower 48. Fascinating – both countries are very similar in size and dimensions. That gave me a quick reference, as I’ve been all over the States and know the distances between different places pretty well.

Here’s that map:

Fascinating similarity. Notwithstanding this, Australia is frickin’ big. Really big. In addition, the roads are small (virtually all of them, until you get within 30 miles or so of a city, are two lane and quite twisty), so you can’t cover big distances quickly, like you can in the States. There’s no equivalent of our interstate highway system, which has surprised me. In addition, semis pull three and four full truck loads behind them – no josh – they have big signs on the last ones that say “Road Train.” Passing them at 140 KPH (nighttime is even more fun) gets your adrenaline pumping, especially while driving on the left side of the road.

I’ve been on the road for over three weeks now, and haven’t even circled half of the country. Waaaah. I’ve thought about staying another two months, but I’m sure that I’d turn into a surf bum and never come back. I will have to return here, however, as quite a few folks have told me that the northwest and far western parts of the country are its most beautiful and provocative. Man, everywhere is like that here. I’ll be happy to confirm it, however.

I’ll post about the charms and pleasures of Darwin and my trip from Uluru up here next.

A couple of photos from last night and today. I was lucky enough to arrive on Thursday afternoon, when the local food market vendors all get together on Mindil Beach for sunset dinners, entertainment and group fun and camaraderie on the water. It reminded me of Off the Grid in San Francisco, which I can’t wait to get back to once I’m stateside.

Surf pool. I’m definitely headed there tomorrow. Cowabunga…