due to unforeseen ...

... circumstances, we are not quite where we thought we were.

All was tickety-boo for hundreds of kilometres. I left the happy environs of Daughter Unit #1. Admittedly after five kilometres I realized I’d left the mice on a fencepost, contemplating the future, but that was soon solved. 08:15, second departure.

Checked in at Daughter Unit #5 to load the car, and off I went. 10:20 and 60 kms under the belt. Passed Bendigo, the previous zenith of this excursion. Refuelled at Ouyen, having nearly run dry when I didn't refuel at Sea Lake. Bought a pie and soggy chips because the young woman selling them looked sad. 

They were down there with the worst I've ever had. Down there with serves at Narrabri and Quilpie, years ago. 

Once chance, guys. I’m not buying your calorific slop again. The ubiquitous sparrows were happy. 

Onward and upward. Bought a few supplies at Red Cliffs, then turned West, young man, leaving Victoria at exactly 18:00.

Had to feast my face on a punnet of strawberries though, because they’re not permitted across the border, and Check Point Sand Groper inspect vehicles. They inspected mine and off we went again, the puzzled mice and I.

Did I ever mention the time I passed that same checkpoint in a Kombi at about 02:00 with a wife, five kids, two rabbits, innumerable rats, mice (real ones), guinea pigs, birds and a hermit crab? But no naughty fruit or veg. No fruit fly. Clear pass. 

This time I remembered to eat the strawberries.

Sweetest. Strawberries. Ever.

But that was my breakfast gone at 6:00  p.m.

A few hours and a power nap I made Peterborough, 986 kms and the car ran like a new one.

Slept for a couple of hours, refuelled (automated fuel pumps are less common in Oz than NZ but fortunately Peterborough had one) then moseyed on westwards. Grabbed a powernap near Orroroo, then on some more.

There’s a lot of God under (over and around, too but I was under) those dark night skies. I swung north to Hawker, still pre-dawn, topped up (okay … automated again), stretched, and northed again.  

Forty kms later, as dawn broke, I found a scenic route through a snippet of the Flinders. Haven’t got into the Flinders since honeymoon in ’98, so I grabbed it, adding another 100 kms and nearly as many photos.

Then onwards. Passed a road train.

Thirty kms later I passed another. It needs a fair few herbs to pass a road train safely, I let him know I was coming through, and gave the now trusty Triton a few extra carrots.

 And stopped.

“You okay?” the road train operator checked.

Yeah. But nah.

All those pretty lights again on the dashboard.

It’s routine now. Turned off the engine, restarted it, and gingered on to Parachilna. Parachilna is not New York. I fed some obstreperous roosters and their submissive girlfriends. Not one said thanks.

Made myself a coffee. Don’t diss instant … ye gods it was wonderful, and the primus worked a treat.

Weighed up my choices.

Turned sadly around and headed for Adelaide. Grabbed some salad and tuna – (my first bite since the strawberries) –  near Port Augusta. Midday, Day Two. Only 460 kms and the car didn’t miss a beat. But the engine warning light stayed on.

So here I am. Adelaidean ’burbs. Adelaide was home for two or three years an eternity ago.

Thanks to Nick I had a roof and a bed last night. I destressed with a stiff walk (not whisky, they came later). Today is another day.

Decisions to be made. While I don’t believe in star signs I am an archetypal Libran. Decisions are a thousand indecisions, alternatives, scenarios, dilemmas. I think I know what I’ll do, but it’s off to a mechanic, a Mitsubishi mechanic rather than a generic mechanic, first.

And then? The mice have gone into hiding, even though the weather was stunning (at last) at Parachilna.