So the short of it is that we have had to fly. Just 500km, a mere hop in the scheme of this 25,000km trip. We always knew that the chances of finding a boat from East Timor to Australia were slim given our timescales, and the tiny glimmer of hope we had of bribing/sweet talking (would have been interesting to see which would have worked best with a container ship captain) our way on board Perkin's Thor Pacific sailing on the 29th July were dashed by the combination of Indonesian ferry schedules and East Timorese bureaucracy, and to await the next sailing would have seen Will not cycling to Paris (crazy, even in my book) and me asking for another week, month or who knows how much longer leave.
Over the past three weeks we've followed every lead for a boat to Oz, from yacht racing to Australian Defence Force vessels to container ships, from Indonesia, East Timor, the closest land to Australia apart from the arduous one month to reach Torres Straits islands at the southern tip of Papua from where we could conceivably have got onto a people smuggling boat - probably not a plan either of our mums would have been particularly keen on!
The truth is that to make the Indonesia/East Timor to Darwin crossing, you need time. Lots of time. The hostel owner (from Lancashire) we met in Dili waited a year. And that's waiting in Dili which is probably not the most attractive place to spend such a prolonged holiday! Sailing from Singapore would have been possible, but would have bypassed Indonesia and made the trip all a bit too easy and enjoyable!
Surrounded by UN workers and well paid contractors our Airnorth plane hopped the 500km in 60 minutes, and really made us question why we'd not listened to all the advice we'd received along the trip that flying really made a lot more sense than spending 14 hours on a train, or up to 24 on a bus covering the same distance and without the complimentary scone and fake orange juice.
In Darwin, once past the immigration (who also thought we were mildly crazy), we felt completely disorientated. The whole balance of our previous seven weeks suddenly changed and we became the poor backpackers struggling to comprehend the sky high Aussie prices - high anyway, and in comparison to Indonesia a completely different world. Ordering noodles at random from a menu was replaced by carefully checking menu prices and finally deciding that Subway was the most economical way of stuffing ourselves full of the now foreign to me at least Western food ($18 for Fish and Chips - the equivalent of a whole day's subsistence for us along most of our journey!).
The social side seemed equally bizarre, surrounded by similar looking people to us, we no longer stood out as the "tourist to be touted" and became "regular backpackers from the UK probably looking for a job". The special treatment ended, but with it also our constant wariness that we were being set up to be ripped off.
A quiet night (largely because beer is so expensive) was spent back in dorm mode. Not sure how people live for months in these working visa ghetto like places. I think it would drive me insane, however, horses for courses, they all thought we were mad not to have come to Oz straight from London in an aeroplane. Touche.
Day 48 saw the beginning of our three day Greyhound experience, heading south along (reading this you have NO idea how grateful this made us) straight, flat, smooth and empty road through the Northern Territory with our only regret being missing the 1st July Fireworks, the only day of the year fireworks are permitted apparently. Weird, but then again it does seem Australia has a lot of rules about stuff like this.
Reaching the ex-gold mining town of Tennant Creek at 2am on Saturday morning (you need a good map to find this place) we could see why strict rules exist, as we were dropped by the bus into the middle of a mass local aboriginal street fight. Scariest moment of the trip so far without any shadow of doubt as we rapidly reassessed our plan of sticking the rest of the night out in the bus station, and heeded local Aussie advice and beelined for a caravan park, and crashed in the unlocked TV room before making an early exit in the morning. Tramp-esque, but when needs must.
With a whole day in front of us and the best suggestions from locals of what to do being "nothing", "sleep", "go to the bar" (eating would have been up there but extended opening hours here seems to mean five days a week plus three hours on Saturday), we were helped out by local Sue who drove us to see the local highlights of the lookout point, and the local dam. We survived the 4km bush walk back with none of the snakes showcased at some of the highway pubs, the famous Larrimah in particular, seen much to my relief. The rest of the day was spent trying to learn the virtues of Aussie Rules football, drinking a few schooners, and finding out just the way to make the pool balls come out of the table, while retaining our dollar coin.
As we ate our $20 pizza (another Aussie priced "bargain"), we watched the beginning of Saturday night unfold, with more evidence of the massive social divides between white and aboriginal populations in these remote towns, with everyone seeming to get along in a state of uncomfortable mutual tolerance. It's hard to explain this without being here, a dynamic far beyond many of the high horse European liberal opinions but yet still one that seems a long way from a long term solution where your background makes no difference to how you make the most of the undoubted opportunities Australia offers (having seen the atrocious recent histories of Vietnam and Cambodia, and lacking infrastructure of Indonesia makes me a harsher judge of whether peoples' complaints really hold water).
Night bus (no chickens) through to Mount Isa, one of Australia's mining capitals, followed by another 12 hour ride east through to Townsville were uneventful. We hit a roo, but seems this is normal. Just have to hope it doesn't take your headlight out apparently. Food stayed limited to steak sandwiches, and our sickly Coles' cereal bars as we were treated to Gordon the driver's recollections of his true busman's holiday to the UK.
As we hit Townsville, Australia had changed. No more road trains or desert but a chique looking urban centre with a pleasant sea front and beach (from what we could see in the dark!), and a sleek looking Mitsibushi Galant looking ready to take us on the final section of our journey. Road trip to Sydney!
Ps. Check out our updated Google Map of the route and our stop off points (click on the map to zoom in).... IN OZ NOW!
Dili - Darwin: 1 hour flight hour / 500 km
Darwin - Tennant Creek: 14 bus hours / 1,000 km
Tennant Creek - Mount Isa: 10 bus hours / 650 km
Mount Isa - Townsville: 11 bus hours / 900 km
TOTAL TO DATE: 22,065 km
FUND RAISING TOTAL: GBP 3,780 including Gift Aid - please keep these Doctors of the World donations coming - click here!
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