I’m my own best alarm clock, when it is of my choice, something I want to do. I drove out the drive way at 8.45, so it wasn’t 7am, it didn’t matter.
I took my first urn at the end of the Romsey Wooden Road, in Wallen. I turned left. I should have turned right. Oops. Good start.
I had my first coffee in Shepparton. Nothing much open, shouldn’t travel on a public holiday. Things are closed. The coffee was terrible, long black, not a chance of a macchiato. I reverted to short blacks, then and there.
SMS. 09.58. (Shane & David) First coffee Shepparton... clearly not in fucking Kansas now Toto. Call it what the hell you like, but don't call it coffee – Christian
SMS. 10.09. (Shane & David) David, get out of bed – Christian
There was water all along the side of the road, flooding paddocks, once I’d crossed the border and entered NSW.
The driving was easy, good. I had the windows down, the music loud. Why had I been worried? The time flew by as quick as the kilometres.
It was hot, 37 degrees, 38 degrees, said the dashboard. At the border and further. I put up the windows and turned on the aircon.
SMS. 13.12. (Shane) Reverting to short blacks now – Christian
SMS. 14.25. Just bought a ginormous V, never seen one so big. If that doesn't take out my liver nothing will – Christian
SMS. 14.27. (Shane) I'm in the boonies of NSW, West Widget, or something? – Christian
It's funny how images from your childhood stay with you, certain images, with no particular reason why specific images stay with you and why others don't. Such are the images of West Wylong. Stills, shots, scenes have stayed with me from a town that we all stopped in during one of our Xmas trips away with the three families. I remember a park, or something and then lunch in an ornate but run down pub following. Uncle Wally and Aunty Marie, no doubt, go there first and us and the Durnans would have caught up eventually. Uncle Wal and Aunty Mar would have waited at the park, flagging us all down, then we would have all eaten together.
As I drove into West Wylong I had that feeling of, this is it, this is that town.
Ah Dubbo, I've heard so much about you. It was kind of that neat, eighties design of Sunbury but on a larger scale. Neat grid design streets with neat gardens right where neat gardens ought to be. Design by computer and beige bureaucrats.
SMS. 18.27. (Rod) Thanks for the offer of the lift, but I'm now in Dubbo. Drive carefully – Christian
SMS. 18.37. (Shane & David) Yeah Dubbo!
Apparently, I can have 2 schooners and still drive? Who'd have thought – Christian
SMS. 18.43. (Shane & David) You're not from around here, are you mate?
No, no I'm not.
A short black is the single shot in that small cup, init? – Christian
SMS. 19.06. (Josh) Dubbo is quite nice – Christian (Josh is from Dubbo, way back when?)
SMS. 19.11. (Shane) Don’t know about stopping, guess I will. Feeling good. Janis is wailing, the windows are all wound down, the air is blowing – Christian
SMS. 19.13. (Josh) Hey pissy pants – Christian
In Dubbo. Blowes trousers. I’d put off stopping at Parkes and Forbes, nothing but Maccas, but now I was at the hotel, upmarket pub. I can’t remember the name. One of the first as you come to into town,
Would you like that black coffee in a cup or a mug?
I’d like a long machiatto.
The chubby blond bartender looked at me, stopped, looked confused, then said, You’re not from around here are you mate?
No, no I’m not.
That’s the shot of coffee in the small cup, isn’t it?
Yes it is, I said. Can you give me some milk with it separately.
Jees, sure.
Two guys were in the kitchen, of what was a pub which served meals. I ask the other one.
How do I get to Lismore? Where do I cross over to the other highway.
Just cut across at Coonabarabran. The highway turns left, you go straight ahead to Gunnedah.
I ate all day eggs on toast. Sausage. Egg, runny yolk. Bacon.
I asked for a second short black.
The problem is, said the younger, cuter guy. We’ve only got one of those cups.
No problem, I’ll get it for you.
I’ll give it a wash, he said after I had handed it to him.
No, it will be okay, I said
I’ll wash it, he said looking horrified.
The problem with Gunnedah, was that you had to backtrack slightly to Tamworth, so to get across to Armadale.
I turned to Gunnedah, but didn’t think of the map until I’d gone too far to turn around and come back and it looked like I should have gone to Narrabri.
I spoke to a taxi driver in town. “You have to go to Tamworth to get to Armadale, you have no choice.
Oh well, it wasn’t far to back track, just head off and get it done, it was 10pm by this stage. I felt good, I felt like I could keep going. I felt like I could drive the whole way.
I came around to corner in Carroll and the two cars coming towards me flashed their head lights, just as the 100k sign came into vision out of the dark, above a road that seemed to be lapping at the base of the pole. Brakes. That’s water. The road is flooded? The road is flooded. The road is flooded! Fuck! It looks like a causeway full of water 100 metres wide. Damn! Oh damn! I have to turn around, I guess. Lap lap in the dark, lie sarsaparilla awash in front of me. I really have to turn around. Damn! Oh, dam!
The wrong way, having to go the long way around to fix it. And now not any way around at all. Bugger. Time to stop and sleep. Defeated.
I called Mark and Luke. They said get a room. There in the dark in the middle of nowhere, I noticed my phone battery was almost flat too.
I head back to the main street of Gunnedah, the punters are piling out of the pub. It says accommodation on the veranda. I stop the car, head to the door.
You can’t go in.
I’m looking for some where to stay.
Nothing here, mate.
Can you suggest anywhere?
Nah, mate. Some of the other pubs in town are beyond to have space.
You’ll always get a room at one of the motels, says one chick.
Yeah, the motels, says the other chick. Try the motels.
I booked in late. The only time mr motel keeper sparked up interest in me was at the mention of the flooded road, otherwise I was just a nuisance, certainly in the evening.
Room 2, be out by 10am. No, we don’t cell anything to drink.
I watched Letterman and spoofed on the motel sheets. It seemed only fitting. Isn’t that what one does.
At least I could charge my phone.
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