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| Me at the Gravity Center for the Magic 8-Ball trip. |
Ah! It’s good to be moving. I woke up at some ungodly hour to do my tax and pack. Then Esu, Dougy and I drove to T’s before heading to my hitching point near Muchea. It took very little time for my first lift to pick me up.
He was a guy from south England somewhere and was going to the gravity centre in Gingin. He’d been to most of the tourist sites in Perth and couldn’t wait for the two years until his contract was up fast enough. He dropped me in Gingin and we bonded over how things closed too early in Perth and that the living wasn’t dense enough. The standard stuff.
The next guy was a year younger than me (although he thought I was younger). He had a bunch of tattoos (some of which he’d done), built custom bikes (the reason he’d been in Perth), worked as a DJ, had done some work in security and was now working in the airport. He’d also travelled a surprising amount of Australia. He dropped me at the Geraldton maccas (so cheap) at two pm but said he could drop me off at a backpackers. I’m now on the side of the road somewhere north of there. Grumpy is probably a word that would come to mind. I’m just glad it’s not raining.
This currently has a startlingly similar feel to the time when I was hitch hiking, maybe in townsville, where three lovely African girls took me to their families house where I helped cook and babysit the children and they fed me. Then they tried to bring me out to a party with them and told me that it was no problem and they’d sort somewhere out for me to crash the night. I said no. I said that a truck driver might pick me up over night and take me a long distance. Sometimes I need to be beaten until I’m unconscious and then when I wake up, beaten again just to drive the point home. That was a stupid decision and this one seems no better.
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| If you squint, that’s Lee!! |
Anyway, turning down that lift lead to me meeting Lee. I’d just made it to the outskirts and had a lot of people driving past pointing. It was rather futile though because I hadn’t made it to the unknown intersection ahead, so I had no idea which way I’m going. Anyway, Lee was a French hitch hiker who was on my turf and was also heading to Carnarvon that night. He didn’t seem to have much luck and nor did I after meeting him. I stopped hitch hiking and walked a few km’s past him before sticking my thumb out again. Only to see him drive past in the longed for comfort of the passenger seat of some car. He didn’t even wave! And then… a few km’s further, we crossed paths again. I hadn’t managed to get a lift and apparently his fell quite a bit short. I should probably point out that Lee was doing the wise thing and waiting next to the 24hr service station. I walked past him again and got a phone call from Sammy at around sunset which I stopped short since a car was stopping for me.
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| The family didn’t even see it! |
My next lift was a family that took me into Northampton. The girl, who was around my age, was telling me about how she’d briefly owed monkeys in Indonesia. They also explained that Northampton’s population of 1000 was enough to support three bars. Upper, middle and Lower. Or was it First, Second and Third? Meh. They were amazingly creative names. I had a beer in the last one. I was hoping for some food but the kitchen was closed. The girl behind the bar was a gorgeous Italian girl. We talked a bit about travelling and then instead of:
- asking about accommodation,
- hitting on her, or
- getting ridiculously drunk, or
or anything else that could have resulted in me not lying on the side of the road ridiculously aware of the fact I was freezing, I quietly walked off. Really just running towards my eventual fate. Right now, I’m using my computer as extra ‘heating’. I have another jumper. To find out why it’s wet instead of just a little dirty we’ll have to ask last evening’s hungover Bodey. I’m not his biggest fan. So, another night of walking because it’s too cold to sleep. Last time I was in this position I learnt that my hiking pack
doesn’t effectively double as a sleeping bag. This time I learnt that maybe I shouldn’t have (deliberately!?) left my sleeping bag and tent at home. It’s not completely my fault I’m in this situation. The weather man lied to me about the night time temperature. It’s mostly my fault though.
Before I knew it was going to be this cold I made do by setting up a hovel in a grove using my backpack as the final wind break. I was sharing it with a number of rodents that wanted to continuously run through the grass. Off in the distance was the symphonic tune of multiple of dogs howling and barking which lead to me I drifting off to sleep with the soothing thoughts of wether foxes would take on a sleeping human (the dogs didn’t seem to be getting any closer). This didn’t last long because it was still cooling down around me.
First I went through my pack, putting on the few clothes that were dirty instead of going into the washing machine the night before. This only briefly helped but then I hit the jackpot. I needed to eat and Sarah’s kit-kats were in my pocket wrapped in a bag. I grumpy tore them apart hoping that there was no note because it was unlikely to get read and that would get me in trouble. And then I saw it! Pop rocks! Holy shit. It was like heaven. True, a sleeping bag or those hand warmer things might of been more useful but far more mundane. Man now I want some more. Anyway, I had to abandon the hovel to walk to feel warm. A bit further along I decided jogging on the spot is a far better idea. I’m now aware that the last town’s caravan park was full so staying there wasn’t an option. It’s five thirty so I’ve almost made it through the long night. The next few hitch hiking legs are 400 km segments so this shouldn’t happen again. I’m still going to make sure my clothes are dry.