We leave Red Cliffs Motel, just south of Mildura, at 7am on our split-second timing run to northern South Australia. It’s all about ‘the Rock’ at this point, that is, we can’t drive so close to it and not go. 100kms later at the Victoria/South Australian border the truck blows a drive tyre. Just beyond the roadhouse there is a huge black arch over the highway that reads ‘Dunlop Tyres welcomes you to South Australia’. It was either cruel irony that we have a blowout next to a big Dunlop sign or 10kms back there was a representative of that company with a snipers rifle taking pot-shots at passing steel-belted radials.
The chap working at the roadhouse gave Manu the number of a friend of his who would meet us anywhere with a spare tyre off the main track somewhere. Meanwhile, jammed into the urinal next to mine was an upside down roadwork witches-hat that looked to be a handy funnel for anyone with really bad aim. ‘Beware strangers bearing tyres’ we agreed, so after Ben wrestled on the spare wheel we rolled into Renmark to buy a new one from an actual tyre place.
To Port Augusta Ben took the truck south-west to stay on major highways. Manu and I veered north-west through the scenic, windy roads of wine country. Beautiful in the hazy drizzle. Picture-book towns every few kms with well loved sandstone cottages, grapevines to the roads edge and small, un-ostentatious signs to world-famous wineries. The Land Cruiser crawled behind a few hundred sheep on the road the other side of Clare Valley.
Across ever widening plains a distant factory smoke stack on the waters edge materialises out of the mist coming into Port Augusta. An eerie image and introduction to the expanses ahead. We pass a pulverised caravan on the side of the road 100ish clicks after Port A as the afternoon light fades. Ominous expectations were restored to normality with the ‘fish and chip’ confusion at the Glendambo Outback Resort bar…
‘… no we don’t have any fish for that.’
‘What about on the specials board?’
‘Yeah, that’s fine… but there’s no chips.’
‘On the board?’
‘No, on the menu. Just potato-bake.’
‘So I can’t get these fish and chips?’
‘There’s no fish… or chips.’
‘But there is on the board?’
‘Yep.’ …etc
Manu ordered fish and chips, I ordered lamb roast of the day that could have been beef. Manu said his crumbed prawn cutlets were okay. Ben lucked out, he arrived after the kitchen closed. We have to be on the road by 4am to make Uluru for the sunset.
Glendambo population,
- sheep 22,500
- flies 2,000,000
- people 30
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