Before I left Singleton I visited one of the town’s many claims to fame. The largest sundial in the Southern Hemisphere. It was a sundial, and, er …it was quite big.
The sun is peeking through the clouds as I head north through rolling hills and fields of green. With some relaxing music playing (Anjunadeep for anyone working on the soundtrack) it’s a lovely drive through the countryside, and for once I’m not hurrying, I’m taking my time and enjoying the day…
(Sorry to interrupt, but If you’re squeamish you may wish to jump ahead to Friday!)
…when a small dark animal scurries out into the road. As I brake, it begins to flutter – just another bird – so I only brake gently, expecting it to take-off. But instead of taking flight the bloomin’ thing flutters into the middle of the road like a chicken. There’s no room to get round it so all I can do is aim for it and hope the chicken knows how to duck.
I watch the rear view mirror to see how it survives but nothing appears. That’s odd. So I pull over and wander round to the front of the car. At first I just see feathers. Then, poking out of the radiator grill, I realise it’s the bird’s head, with one cold dead eye staring up at me.
The eye blinks.
Somehow the bird has gone through a tiny gap in the grill, until its head wouldn’t fit. In its effort to escape, one of its legs has poked back out through another gap in the grill. It’d be bad enough pulling a dead bird out, but pulling away feathers, feeling muscles and tendons squish as I try to extricate the poor thing …eeeuggh. Also, what can you catch from a wild bird in Australia? So I’m avoiding the claws and beak and worrying about germs and fleas!
Eventually I untie the mangled bird and plonk it on the ground. Bereft of most of its feathers, its sense of balance, and probably half its brain cells, it staggers away. At this exact moment a Rentokil van pulls up and a lady leaps out. She gives an impression of the scale of the decimation by asking:
“Is it a bird?”
(Well, it ain’t Superman!)
“It was, but it’s pretty screwed”…but she’s not listening as she scurries after the mangled chuck. Relieved to have avoided the dilemma of whether to leave the poor unfortunate animal to die of its wounds or reverse over it, I straighten the number plate and leave, breathing a sigh of relief that there’s nothing for the folks at Hertz to get upset about.
Maybe the bird belonged on a weather vane, because soon after the weather took a turn for the worse. I was gaining altitude and losing temperature. It dropped to 2 degrees C and the rain began to pour, turning a lovely road trip into a miserable slog. I hoped that the country town I was heading towards was big enough to have some motels. The GPS said yes, but also warned of unpaved roads and offered me a route around. Battling with the unfamiliar and unintuitive GPS I didn’t realise it was taking me the wrong way round until I’d gone thirty kilometres out of my way. (Who hides the zoom buttons in a sub menu?)
Finally back on track and a few kilometres from the Best Western at Armidale, the rain was pouring and the sky was darkening at 4.30 so I was relieved to be almost there. Out of the gloom emerged flashing lights and a detour sign. Great! …and of course a detour in the Aussie bush means several kilometres out of your way just to get to the next road over!
My crappy GPS is yelling at me for going the wrong way. I don’t know when I can start listening to it again because I can’t zoom out to see if it’s taking me back to the same stretch of road. I’m detoured through so many country roads I have no idea where I am and its chucking it down and cold.
“AAAAARRGGHH!”
There’s quite a few people being detoured, and our line passes a couple at the side of the road changing a tyre.
“Oh well. Things could be worse”
After passing through Armidale I eventually arrive at the other end of the road closure. The Best Western is 3 miles outside town and I have to be allowed through the barrier of the closed section of road to get into the motel. I later learn from the news that the road was closed after three people were killed in a crash involving a car and a truck.
Yep, things could be worse.
Friday
The motel is quiet, and it’s a nice change to open the curtains to frosty countryside, especially as I expect to be at the seaside or in the city from now on. It’s another nice morning for a drive and I’ve picked a great road. All the roads look the same on the map, but you can find yourself sailing along an open freeway or wiggling through a twisty ravine on any one of them. There aren’t many options so I’m amazed that I chose a road where I didn’t catch anyone for over an hour! It was a fantastic drive, only blunted by the huge car I’m lugging around. Once I joined the Pacific Highway however, I was able to enjoy my luxury vehicle again and waft towards Byron Bay.
Byron Bay can only be described as a hippy town. But it has a beautiful beach and a lighthouse which marks the most Easterly point of Australia. After an hour at the lighthouse I’m happy to get a room in town, though it’s pretty scummy and the wifi’s broken (The BW had wifi, but not strong enough to reach my room, so I’m feeling cut off!). For the first time in ages I get to run on the beach, and it’s a wonderful beach to run on. Wide and flat, with the sun setting in the distance. Despite being the East coast, it’s probably the best sunset I’ve seen on this trip, with the sun shining through the clouds, across the distant mountains, the North side of the bay, the ocean, and reflecting off the South side of the bay. It’s spectacular, and I smile at the bride and groom posing for what would be the most magnificent wedding picture ever, where it not for the sweaty bloke jogging past.
Once again I fail to find a decent bar to eat at, at least there’s my regular backup option of a Subway.
“We’re closing”
“…at half past six!!??”
“Yeah, the toaster’s broken, it’s quiet and the manager told us to close”
I pulled out my sad face, and the other guy agreed to make me a sandwich before they shut, which saved me from a lawsuit for assault.
Afterwards I found a reasonable duo playing guitars in a bar…and listened for a while.
Saturday dawned grey and wet. That was always going to be a problem coming to Australia in August. As I drove up the coast peering through the rain I was wondering what the hell to do. There’s not enough time to drive up to the sunshine in Cairns. I’ve been here before so it’s not that novel, and I haven’t much I want to see.
“Just keep rolling” I thought, and soon I reached Surfers Paradise. What would be a great place to stay in Summer was wet and horrible, but my head was aching so it was time to try another fallback option. I asked GPS for a Holiday Inn and it was just 2km away! It wasn’t even 1pm but so what? I didn’t even get discouraged by the price and went for the better view and buffet breakfast.
It was a great move. A nice hotel by the beach, and loads of pubs within walking distance. It’s a wet weekend by the sea, but there’s enough live music, merry people and stag and hen do’s to make for an entertaining night.
…and there’s a Hard Rock Café, where you can eat at the bar, the barmen have time to talk and I finally got to chat with some Aussies!
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