Day 25 – Finally off the plain

Another good sign - Final time zone

There’s no denying it, I’d slightly lost the love last night. And waking up this morning didn’t change matters. Madura roadhouse was just too weird. In dusty trees hugging the bluff, it had the sad air of a place the world had moved on past. Nowhere had seen a paint pot in 30 years, and the owner and his wife looked tired of the whole thing. They just looked like they’d given up the fight starting with their appearance.

Roadhouse are surreal

He had Just for Menned his moustache Day-Glo blonde and offset the whole look with a sweat stained Swansea City FC baseball cap, whilst his wife's ample backside seemed to be in a titanic battle with the black leggings and skin tight polo shirt combo she’d decided for appropriate for her age and frame. The bar was covered in dog eared laminated A4 print outs of crude jokes from 70s TV and pictures of trucks on the pass in the 60s (including four b&w pics of one full of dead rabbits). It was a surreal, god forsaken, fly ridden place. Like being stuck in a macabre farce for 16 hours of your life.

Lies. Most kangaroos are
roadkill.

I swatted my way out at dawn, happy to be moving on.

Luckily, in contrast, today’s been a good day. Having hauled myself up the pass back onto the plain proper, it was, well, plain sailing. The wind was largely in my favour, the temperature is right down, and found I was chewing through the miles, with time enough for a half an hour lunch stop at the awesomely named Cocklebiddy roadhouse.

There really isn’t anything new to say about the landscape, but it does finally feel like I’m pulling off actual the Nullabor plain. Hills and trees proper started appearing by the end of the day. After nearly a week of plains with the odd scrappy clump trees here and there is a relief. And the roadhouse at Caiguna tonight is a world away from the last few days. Gnome garden and standard aggressive signs everywhere (the customer is definitely not right out in the bush) it’s clean, modern and well run.

Nullabor Links - Longest
golf course in the world

It’s been interesting being out in the Nulla. The space and sense of remoteness is hard to convey in words. And the highway itself is a properly unique place. Without towns, it basically one huge constantly changing town for miles and miles. Everyone acknowledges each other, people stop to ask you if you need water and check you’re alright, and the same cars, trucks and caravans come past you waving and tooting day after day, as they stop and move on at different paces.

To prove the point, nearly at Caiguna, the backpacker couple who had been in charge at Nundroo six days back, came steaming past in a 90s saloon having finished their stint there today. Spotting me they pulled up in the dust by the side of the road, waited for cycle past, leant out and asked if I needed anything.

It’s unique and very cool, but think I’m done now. I can suddenly feel Perth within reach, and keen for this part of the journey to be over. And with two days over to the town of Norseman, the first in days, it feels real finally.

A solid day’s cycling all round  (Although slightly tempered by seeing a live snake lounging by the road. First live one of the trip, but still - Pee stops were a little unnerving after that).

Tree finally

Miles: 97 – Madura – Cocklebiddy – Caiguna

Breakfast – Standard

Lunch – Good steak sandwich and crisps at Cocklebiddy

Supper – Another package of food sent forward from Mildura has arrived. It included a trekkers’ freeze dried beef curry. When rehydrated, was delicious, and beat another roadhouse special. A white Magnum for pudding, because no one’s here to tell me not too.