With only three days to get to Darwin, our options were fairly limited. We could have made 1,000 ks that first day to get up to Daly Waters, then made our way into Kakadu National Park. That’s a lot of driving, so we elected instead to take it easy, averaging about 500 kilometers a day on the way up, relishing our last few days in the vast expanses of the outback. It’s also free to sleep at rest stops along the way, which was a big bonus, especially considering the cost of petrol ($1.80 a liter in some places, which is $6.80 a gallon!).

In central Australia, as long as there were clear skies the desert sun would heat up during the day, making it pretty comfortable, sometimes even downright warm. During the night, though, temperatures would get down to around freezing. As we made our way north, temperatures increased to near perfection, and nights were pleasantly cool, not uncomfortably cold. When we pulled into Darwin, we had reached paradise.

Unfortunately our stay in paradise didn’t last too long; our flight back to Sydney left later that night. We had to clean the van, pack our backpacks for the first time in two months, and hand over the keys the following day. The hand-off went really smoothly. Ian, the manager of Traveller’s Auto Barn in Darwin, was really friendly and was excited to see the van for the first time. After all the paper work was taken care of and everything squared away for the next Ambassador, we put our packs on our shoulders, becoming backpackers again with no transportation. We waved farewell to the van, which took us a hell of a long way, but were a little relieved to be once again without any responsibilities. Better enjoy it while it lasts.

Here’s some final tidbits from our massive road trip, as well as some observations about Australia.

-We drove 8,000 kilometers, or about 5,000 miles.
-The car/truck combo is infinitely more popular in Oz than in the states. I am fascinated by this.
-The gray nomads at caravan parks are some of the friendliest people in Australia.
-Val was particularly impressed by the practical environmentalism seen all around Oz – beach front property left undeveloped, entire communities switching from plastic to reusable canvas grocery bags, and a general awareness of consumption and waste.
-If you don’t know the Australian slang for something, put a “y” or “ie” at the end of it, and you’re away: truckie (truck driver), “poly” (politician), “cozzie” (swimming costume), “brekky” (breakfast), and so on and so forth.
-Unless otherwise specified, your burger will have beetroot on it. While not a bad thing, I’ve yet to be convinced.

We’re back in Sydney for just a few days, but pretty soon we’re off to Hawaii!

First, we met up with our guide and group at the Desert Palms Hotel in Alice Springs. We hadn’t even started but were already pumped about having a sweet hotel room for free, especially after spending 35 straight nights sleeping in a van! Right away it was clear our guide Jason was going to make it a great trip. His knowledge and expertise about the land, the Aboriginal people of Central Australia, the plants, and animals is extensive, with a sense of humor to boot.

We spent most of the first day making the 500km journey south straight to Uluru. On the Big Trip we’ve seen a couple of other famous world icons (the Great Pyramids and the Taj Mahal to name a couple) and each time it’s exhilarating. As we approached, I was hooked. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it! After lunch and a rest Jason guided us around and told us some Aboriginal beliefs about the area, including the idea that Uluru was created by a couple of boys splashing around in some water and kicking up mud until a mound of it grew and grew and grew. An interesting theory, for sure! We did about a 6km loop walk around the entire thing, noting how the surface isn’t smooth at all close up. It’s full of caves, ridges, cracks and scars, each with an ancient story to tell.

The local Anangu people have a joint management of the park with the Australian government, which seems to benefit both groups fairly well. The people can preserve their culture, history, and close relationship with the land, while the parks service uses this knowledge to better protect it. You can climb up Uluru if you want to, and lots of people do, but the Anangu strongly disapprove of it. It’s been an important men’s ceremonial site for thousands of years, and they also feel responsible when people die or get hurt on the climb. There are signs everywhere requesting people not to climb it out of respect, and I find it sad to see so many tourists ignoring the message.

After the base hike we drove to a good sunset viewing spot while sipping champagne and munching on snacks. It was cloudy so the rock didn’t glow brightly like in all the postcards, but it was a good time to have a few and get to know the group a little better. Half of the 14 people were from Belgium (a family traveling together), and the rest were from New Zealand, the US, Japan, Israel, and Australia. Everyone was so great to hang out with, and made the next four days a blast.

After a delicious kangaroo pasta dinner at the campsite it was time to roll out our swags around the fire. A swag is a canvas covering with a mattress at the bottom just big enough for one person, and you put your sleeping bag inside of it. It’s kind of an Australian thing I guess, and feels secure like a tent but it lets you poke your head outside to watch the milky way and shooting stars, which you can’t beat. It managed to keep out the cold, despite the freezing temperatures every night. We woke up at 5:30 in order to see Uluru at sunrise, which was a little more impressive than sunset.

It turned out, as great as Uluru was, the next days’ sights and hikes were even better, even though they’re not as famous. On day two we explored the equally ancient, red, and bizarre Kata Tjuta near Uluru, winding through the mountains on the lovely Valley of the Winds 7.4km hike. Kata Tjuta means “many heads” because it’s made up of 36 domes scattered around, which are even taller than Uluru.

After a rewarding hike, it was time for the heavy duty 4WD truck/bus we’d been traveling in to work its magic. Jason drove us through some winding, rugged terrain for about an hour and a half to our bush campsite, which has no facilities except for a shovel to bury it with, if you know what I mean.

It felt like the Australia you imagine if you’ve never actually been there. Kangaroos hopping off in the distance and big open skies over uninviting prickly and gnarled plants and dead wood. And of course plenty of that rusty red sand and dirt. That night the stars were fantastic and after a big steak dinner played a drinking game around the fire.

On day three we bounced through the bush some more and at one point got stuck in the sand, but were quickly on the move again once all the guys got out and pushed. We eventually reached the glorious King’s Canyon (Watarrka National Park). We hiked 6km that afternoon, starting with a long and steep staircase nicknamed “heart attack hill.” After surviving the climb (it really wasn’t that bad), we meandered along the beautiful rim, taking in exceptional views.

Since we’d bushcamped the previous night before, we were informed after the hike we’d get a good shower at our new campsite. When we arrived, Jason showed us our shower in a small, 3-sided shack with a fire-powered water heater outside. We were a bit nervous about the water being freezing, but Jason assured us as long as someone got the fire going strong it’d be alright. Rick and Jos from the Belgian family jumped to the task, as we had learned they always did when it came to doing any kind of hard work (particularly involving fire). Anytime Jason needed someone to lift something heavy, Kevin would get up to help and find Rick and Jos literally running to do it, it was so funny. Anyway, they did an awesome job and the shower was amazing, it was even hard not to burn yourself!

The next morning on the way to our next destination, Jason pulled over to hunt for some witchetty grubs, an Aboriginal delicacy. They burrow in the roots of a certain tree, and once you hack away at the right one, you pull out the wiggling grub, bite it’s head off, and take a big bite. Sounds tasty, right? We found one, and because it was young it needed to be cooked over a little fire. Then we passed it around and each took a bite. Everyone agreed it tastes just like scrambled eggs. I wouldn’t eat it everyday for breakfast, though. Ick.

The next stop was Hermannsburg, which despite its name is an Aboriginal settlement. We were treated to some galloping wild horses before turning on to the paved road, which was pretty exciting. Most communities and lands require a permit for non-Aboriginal people to visit, but here we were allowed to lunch at a picnic table, go to the shop, and drive down the main road. When we got out we noticed several stray dogs and trash scattered around, a big difference from most places we’d been so far in Australia. Despite the signs of low income levels, the houses, school, shop, and clinic seemed to be in good condition. The town had also been given huge solar-powered generators, saving them loads of money that would have been spent on diesel.

From Hermannsburg we drove on a 4WD track to the Palm Valley of the Finke Gorge. Apparently the river there is the oldest water course in the world, which is a humbling thought. The last 4km ceased to be a road, but a series of boulders that took 30 minutes to maneuver through. It felt like we were in a tank being able to plow over such ridiculous terrain. The late afternoon light was perfect for the stunning stoney valley, which was indeed full of palm trees as well as ghost gums. We rested at a lookout point in time to see a dingo in the distance trotting around a water hole. We bushcamped not far from the gorge for our final night outside.

On our final day we explored the breathtaking West MacDonnell Ranges, hitting up the dramatically scenic Ormiston Gorge and Glen Helen Gorge. At Ormiston, we were able to spot some rock wallabies basking in the sun.

It was just a couple of hours drive back to Alice Springs, where later that night we all met up for dinner and drinks to reflect and say goodbye. I can’t say enough great things about the tour, and it’s hard to believe it was all free (for us, at least!). We couldn’t have found all of those places on our own, and it wouldn’t have been half as enriching without a knowledgeable guide and really fun group of people. One of the neat aspects of it was that we all had to pitch in. Cooking, cleaning, and setting up camp made it feel like we were really roughing it in the Outback. If everything had been taken care of while we just sat around, it would have been more comfortable but so boring. The five day experience was one of the major highlights of not only Australia, but the entire Big Trip. Thank you so much, Intrepid and World Nomads!

The Camel Cup is an Alice Springs tradition, dating back to the 1970’s when two locals made a friendly wager about whose camel would win in a race. Over time it became larger and larger, and is now a sponsored event, drawing riders from several countries. Supposedly there was even a “professional” camel racer from Japan, although I’m not sure how large the international camel racing circuit is.

It’s more of a carnival or festival than a pure camel race, as there’s all sorts of booths and food vendors set up, and they have events for children and spectators alike. Teams of four could compete in a wild rickshaw race, with the winners taking home $100. All of the events are presided over by a group of VIP “sheiks,” dressed appropriately (or inappropriately, depending on your perspective) from the sponsors area.

But the main event, of course, was the camel racing. Each race had about six or seven camels, with inventive names like Flicker, Crazy Mazy, and Walter, ridden by a camel jockey with wildly varying levels of experience. The start position for the camels is down on the ground, feet folded under. If you’ve ever ridden a camel before, or just been around them, you’ll know that they can be very stubborn and temperamental. Just getting them to all line up and sit down can take a while. Apparently they’ve been known to bite and spit at the starting line, though we didn’t see any unsportsmanlike conduct.

Once the race begins, it’s anybody’s guess as to what will happen. Some races are close and exciting, with everyone pointed in the right direction. At full gallop the camels are pretty fast, but hanging on looks like it’s a real challenge. Most races, however, see a spill or two and have at least one camel going in the wrong direction. The entire spectacle was enlivened by the two “camel callers,” as they referred to themselves, commentating live from a booth near the start.

I’m sure it’s not the only camel race in the world, but it has to be one of the most fun. I’ll certainly be looking into camel racing venues when I get back home.

And here’s one where the desert grass really picked up the morning orange light:

We arrived in Alice Springs, a nice little town with all of the usual comforts of big grocery stores and internet cafes. It seems like it could be any suburb or town in the populated parts of Australia, so it’s hard to remember it’s really in the middle of the desert. Kinda like Vegas, but without all the casinos or money. Anyway, we decided to go for some steaks at a “real” outback steakhouse to compare it to the ones we used to eat at home in the US at the kitschy restaurant chain Outback Steakhouse (yeah, they don’t have those here). The Overlander’s Steakhouse actually may as well have been one, because the kitsch they had going on was out of control. I was loving it. They put a flag from your home country on your table (there weren’t as many Aussies as tourists – go figure), the menu boasted a wide range of animals from camel to crocodile in addition to steaks, and there were all sorts of horns and hides on the walls. They even made a big group of American teenagers on a school trip get up and sing an old Australian outback song, complete with hand gestures. Many of them looked like they were hating it, but they continued to participate anyway. It was pretty hilarious. Check me out with my steak and my flag:

We’re trying to mix it up a little with our latest episode. Watch as we taste some native fauna while taking a break for the day during our drive across the Outback. I don’t think we’ll be getting our own cooking show anytime soon, but you never know. Many thanks to our friend Matteo for providing the music. Enjoy.

The town itself is surrounded by rolling red hills dotted with spinifex (prickly desert grass) and scraggly trees. We caught a sunset from a lookout to watch the hills turn from orange to deep red as the smokestacks and mine towered above the small business district and residential areas. It was so quiet, which made it hard to believe this is the center of action for very far flung rural towns. An example of this role is the School of the Air. It’s a correspondence teaching facility, broadcasting lessons over the radio to children of cattle and sheep ranchers in rural areas. We tried to take a tour and hear a class, but unfortunately they were closed.

Today we leave Mt. Isa to drive west into hundreds of kilometers of bizarre nothingness. I can’t wait.

Our plan is to head back to Townsville, then aim towards the middle, stopping at Mt. Isa before making our way to Alice Springs. We’re looking forward to huge horizons, impossible amounts of stars at night, and hopefully encountering some outback characters, or at the very least having a few beers at a dusty outpost. We’ve got some serious distance to cover, but it’s all part of experiencing first-hand just how vast and empty Australia really is.

As soon as we stepped off the boat onto the jetty and looked over the side, we spotted a five-foot reef shark. I can’t think of any other circumstances when you’d be excited to see a shark in the same small area of water you are about to swim in, but that’s the sort of mindset you get into before you explore the reef – almost any large living thing is a treat and a wonder. While snorkeling in the same spot later, I was of course glad not to see it again, and very pleased with the hundreds of large brightly-colored fish (whose names I don’t know, but you probably don’t either anyway), a big ray, starfish, coral, and other exotic things. Being winter here in Australia, even far north tropical Queensland was far less than sweltering, so we cruised around under the surface at two separate times until we were shivering and our lips were as blue as the water.

It was just a taste, and next time I’d love to return with a dive license for several days to fully appreciate it, but I feel pretty lucky and privileged to have visited such an awesome place.

And why wouldn’t that be the prize at the end of the long run up the East coast? It’s a magical place. The oldest rainforest in the world, home to the majority of Australia’s biodiversity, including some really cool animals. Kangaroos that live in trees, anyone? And then there’s the endangered cassowary, second largest bird in the world (behind the emu), flightless, as tall as a man, armored head, wildly colorful, with a sharp talon that is capable of disemboweling you. Those guys, combined with the multitude of insects, snakes, exotic plants, etc. that you would find in a place almost at the end of Australia and you can see why we were so excited about it.

The Daintree is in the World Heritage-listed Wet Tropics, and runs right into the also listed Great Barrier Reef. There are several high-end eco lodges and caravan sites in and around the park, but we opted to stay at the more rustic (read: cheap) Noah Beach camping grounds, operating by the QPWS (Queensland Parks and Wildlife Services). You can book all of their campsites online or over the phone, and they cost just $4.50 per night per person. We booked three nights, hoping to get lots of time in for rainforest walks and other wildlife-spotting opportunities. A run-in with a cassowary was probably at the top of our list of things we were hoping for in the park.

We set out from Townsville early in the day, planning on making it past Cairns and into the national park in one go. It was a little ambitious, but nothing our long travel days hadn’t prepared us for. The drive up there was stunning. Once outside of Townsville, the landscape quickly became more and more tropical, then opened up into large sugar cane plantations backed by thickly forested mountains.

At some points the Captain Cook Highway, as it’s called, runs right along the sea, giving the passenger panoramic views of pristine waters in impossible shades of blue and the occasional glimpse of a dark shadow off the coast indicating coral reef. All of this is made more dramatic by imposing mountains to the left. It is a beautiful part of the country.

The sun set before we found our camp site, but not without treating us to a gorgeous light show along the coast as we made our way toward Cape Tribulation. By the time we actually made it to Noah Beach, it was totally dark, so we had to wait to really explore the place until the next day.

The Noah Beach campsite is in a fantastic location. The sites themselves are under a thick canopy of rainforest. Walk a few yards toward the sea, however, and it opens up onto a long and sandy secluded beach. Supposedly there are estuarine crocodiles in the vicinity, so you have to be careful wherever any of the park’s many streams empty into the sea!

We set off for Cape Tribulation, hoping to find some information about bushwalking and great places to see some wildlife. That was when we realized that the Daintree wasn’t the wild outpost we had thought it might be. There are dozens of private companies operating in the park, from cafes, hostels and expensive lodges to tour companies offering fishing, boating, canopy “surfing” on zip lines, a skytrain through the rainforest, guided walks during the day and night, etc. As it turns out, the majority of visitors to the park come on a one or two day tour from Cairns, bundling several activities together.

There were only a few trails through the park that we could find. A few short boardwalks led through different types of rainforest and mangroves, and there was a 3.5k hike up to the top of Mt. Sorrow. We did that, as well as the boardwalks, but got the feeling that the best way to experience the park was on an organized tour of some kind. That wasn’t within our budget, so we were a little disappointed.

I also think it wasn’t the right time of year to see the Daintree at its most spectacular. As it’s a rainforest, the Wet season (currently the Dry) would see the most amount of activity. It’s a shame because it’s most accessible (and comfortable) during the drier winter months. We never did see a cassowary or a tree kangaroo. We did, however, see some huge and amazing plants, have a challenging climb up to a beautiful viewpoint, and get a glimpse into Australia’s most biologically diverse region. Next time, though, we might just book a tour.

On a day like the one we chose, that would be pushing it. A lazy drizzle descended over the region as we pulled out, making us thankful for the beautiful two days we’d had in the park. But it made the going somewhat slow early on, and despite our hopes that we’d outrun the rain, it never happened. Instead, conditions worsened gradually throughout the day. What we didn’t know initially was that we were heading into country that was already pretty waterlogged from almost a week of the same slow, constant drizzle. It was becoming, in fact, the wettest (and coldest) June on record where we were heading!

Our route took us through large stretches of rural farm and cattle country, with very few towns or signs of civilization. During one patch with no petrol stations, we were looking forward to a “town” on the map called Belyando Crossing. We knew it was a place to fill-up and probably stop for a break and some lunch. The rest area off the highway had a country store, caravan park, and a couple of fuel pumps. We needed to top off our tanks to make sure we could safely make it to the next town, Charters Towers, over 200 kilometers away. The petrol was $1.47 a liter though, so we only bought enough to carry us 250ks or so. We even debated driving on a little, to see if there were any other petrol stations in town. We put some gas in the tank anyway, and then laughed when we drove on and realized when we saw the “Last Fuel for 200 kilometers” sign that we had already seen all of Belyando Crossing!

The weather was making the roads a little treacherous, and at one point during a desolate stretch of road we approached the scene of an accident. There were fire trucks, an ambulance, as well as a few police officers. They told us to stop while they took some pictures of the area. Ten minutes later we were off, driving past a pretty terrible scene: an oversized truck next to a mangled pick-up towing a caravan, which were both upside down. We heard later on the radio that a 61 year-old woman had died in the accident, and her husband miraculously survived but was in critical condition after being airlifted to the closest hospital.

We finally made it to a place called Charters Towers, just 130 kilometers from Townsville, when it started to get dark. We hadn’t seen much roadkill for a long time, so we figured it would be alright to keep driving until we got to our destination. We got some more fuel and set out for the last leg of our long journey, with dark and rainy conditions. About 50 kilometers out of Charters Towers, I noticed the radio wouldn’t turn on. The headlights seemed dim too, and pretty soon we were on the high beams just to see anything at all. We were obviously losing our power, a pretty crappy thing on a dark and rainy night, nowhere near anything useful. To add to all of this, a huge road train was barreling down on us.

With barely any lights left, it was really hard to find a suitable spot to pull over; there were fairly deep ditches running along both sides of the road. Time was obviously running out to make a safe decision, and a mild panic was setting in. Finally we found a stopping lane on our side of the road and pulled into it. A few minutes later we were on the phone with roadside assistance (free with our rental agreement from Traveler’s Auto Barn). They would send a tow truck from Charters Towers and take us back there for the night, since they couldn’t fix a broken alternator (the most likely culprit) at night in the middle of nowhere.

We pulled out the laptop and watched some pirated Friends episodes we picked up in Cambodia. In just over an hour and a half, the tow truck arrived. The guy’s name was Terry, who was awesome and really friendly. We got our expensive stuff out of the van, took a few pictures of it being winched up for the archives, and hopped in the huge truck. We chatted with Terry on the way back into town, talking about how many accidents the weather had been causing, as well as a local sports controversy we’d heard about on the radio.

He asked us if we had thought about where to stay, and we told him that usually we stay in campsites or caravan parks, and didn’t know what to do in Charters Towers. “That’s all right,” he said. “I can just drop your van off at a powered site and come get you in the morning.” We couldn’t believe it. And sure enough, we pulled into Charters Towers and he drove us into a caravan park and put the van down at a powered site. We later found out Terry was the owner of the company responsible for picking us up and taking such good care of us, which only make him that much cooler in our estimation.

The next morning he came back and jumped us so we could drive to the shop in town. We tooled around during the day, updating things and doing a little research at the local library. Charters Towers used to be a big gold town, and now it’s a tourist destination in its own right. We were surprised to see a map of town in the Lonely Planet, meaning it had more than a few places of interest. The continuing rain kept us indoors though, and by 4pm the van was up and running and we were back in the saddle, trying one more time to make it to Townsville.