The search for Uluru and the death of Rosie
Townsville, Cloncurry, Middle of nowhere, Australia: Trying to get to a rock we apparently can’t pronounce the name of. And failing.
That big, red rock in the middle of nowhere in Australia? I’ve always wanted to see it in person. For us, it means we have to drive back to Townville, before moving inlands. Since we have a late start because of the mechanic, we only do the around 4-hour drive to Townsville that day and stay at Town and Country Caravan Park in Townsville for the night. We end up chatting up a local camper who seems a bit too keen to smoke weed with us, so we go for a stroll into town for some drinks. We end up at an Irish pub for a couple of hours and drinks before heading back.
The next day we head inland on a 9-hour long trip, making a stop in Hughenden, then arriving in Cloncurry around 8 in the evening. We stay at Cloncurry Park Oasis, and decide to head to a bar and grill across the road for snacks and a few drinks. We sit there until closing time, talking to a nice Dutch girl tending the bar. She gives us chocolate and tries to convince us to buy desserts (oh, the luxury), and suddenly it’s time to go back to the van.
Next day, we reach the border and head into Northern Territory. We come up with a game where we wave at every backpacker van we see, but at this point, we wave at everyone, since cars are a somewhat rare sight around here. We are around 140 km past Soudan, when Rosie starts to shake and then breaks down. We are parked at the side of the road, 100 km from the next town. There are several holes in the engine, leaking oil everywhere. Princess Rosie is dead. Two cars with a group of brothers heading out on a fishing trip stop and look at the car, get our details and promise to phone someone, so Rosie can get towed – we have no cellphone service in the Outback. They feel sorry for us, and treats us to TWO BOTTLES OF WHITE WINE, and then, because the wine isn’t cold, they give us a cold beer each, and then pour some of their ice in our cooler and put the wines in there. We start drinking it right away, getting drunk under the harsh sun, watching the occasional car pass us every half hour or so. We pass the time taking some pictures, of course.
The bush flies are everywhere and beyond aggressive, so we huddle up on the front seat and put on some stand-up videos on my laptop. We realise that there’s no fixing Rosie, that she’s really dead. We mourn her by taking a few pictures to remember her by.
Sharon enjoying one of our free, cold, beer
And of course, I was bored, so I also did this:
We then have some canned soup for dinner, while watching the incredible sunset and worrying about attracting wildlife. We go to bed at 7 o’clock.
Next day, Craig hitchhikes into nearest town, Barkley, and arrives 4 hours later in a car with an older local, Tony. He drives us to the only motel in Barkley, where we have to stay for two nights until we can catch the next bus to the nearest city, Tennant Creek. The owner is so nice to give us a discount, 1/3 off the price a night. We stay in a 3 bed room with AC, a fridge, TV and a nice shower. We are the luckiest unlucky bastards ever!