After a short 61 minute exactly flight, the Australian coastline loomed in front of us, flat and seemingly uninhabited. At customs Roel was interviewed out of curiosity since not many large Dutchmen arrive onto Australian soil from Timor L'Este.
We collected our luggage and proceeded to customs where I declared my sheepskin, tent and boots and after a quick cursory glance to ensure there was no mud of seeds inside we were free to go.
We stepped out into the airport terminal lounge and came to a halt after a couple of metres.
We gave each other a confused look.... 'Now what?...' I asked.
Having made it so far with all my limbs still attached I was rather amazed that I was here. This was one of the first moments on the trip when I was actually unsure of what to do and where to go, having decided that the 'Lying Planet' has had it's day of being my guide.
I had the details of Zephyr, an Ozzie motorcylcist who generously shares his house with travellers so we jumped in a taxi, the driver of which knew exactly where to go without any explanation or wildly gesticulating hand gestures, and headed into Darwin's suburbs.
Zephyr's house was like a dream come true. We set our tents up in the garden and headed straight for the pool.
That evening the people of Darwin hosted a big party with fireworks in honour of our arrival. Actually it was to celebrate Territory day but it didn't stop us from feeling special anyway.
Once again culture shock took hold everytime I wandered around shopping malls. Things didn't seem real. I had clearly spent too long in Asia. The massive variety of food was overwhelming, such that I never had any idea what to buy. Being bikeless, public transport took some getting used to. In Asia a bemo - small van crammed full of people, would pass by every 5 minutes for you to jump aboard and hang from the open door. Here, we had to wait at bus stops for the irregular scheduled bus which was innevitably late, then buy a ticket. It all felt very silly.
The bikes should have arrived a couple of days later, they didn't.
In exchange for staying at Zephyr's, Roel and I performed some household tasks such as cleaning the pool, tidying the garden, digging a vegetable patch and I spent a couple of days repairing a broken sofa which I'm rather proud of.
Darwin is described as being 20 years behind the rest of Australia by the locals. It seems there are a lot of misfits from the rest of Oz who end up here due to the good pay as a consequence of the relative remoteness. There are a lot of Aboriginal people when compared to other cities in Australia too. Without going into the politics this creates a somewhat culturally diverse if strained society due to the hundreds of years of persecution and segregation. Deep wounds take a long time to heal.
Darwin is a fantastic place that I wouldn't mind living in, although the temperature in the current 'dry season' doesn't rise much above 34 degrees C, in the wet season the humidity increases massively, hence it is a very seasonal area for workers, festivals and holiday makers with everyone heading back South in 'Summer'.
Eventually we were informed that the bikes were here. It then took another 4 days for the container they were in to be unloaded, cleaned and inspected. We then made an appointment with the quarantine inpectors to look at our 7 days worth of cleaning handiwork. For the privelage we had to pay $150AUD and wait another 2 days.
Finally we could get to our beasts. The inspection lasted all of 5 minutes and we were cleared to leave after the computer had been informed of the decision and the relative paperwork printed out. Whilst we waited we were locked in the quarantine area of the port for 2 hours and had to get a lady to had us water through the gates before someone eventually remembered we were there and came to unlock us.
Roel's paperwork was done in 5 minutes. Typically mine was problematic since someone at customs had clicked the wrong button on their computer meaning that the computer refused to clear me. After a frantic phone call to head office in Sydney and another hour long wait I was free.
I then set about getting my bike serviced and prepared for the desert. A new pair of tyres and several spares were orderred and eventually fitted after a frantic search for tools and workshops where I could hide in the corner and cause a mess. Tim, a UK biker now living in Oz who had ridden to India, kindly lent me the use of his garage in which I could fix all the niggling little things that needed doing. I won't bore you with everything that needed tinkering with.
Anyway I'm now ready to leave for the desert, my plan is to ride some of the long dirt roads that criss cross Australia, heading West first of all towards the Kimberlies then South towards Perth and across from Kalgoorlie to Uluru across the Great Sandy desert which will may require aditional fuel as there is the potential of a 600km stretch between stations. I've rigged up some collapsable water bladders to the side of my bike and generally gone a bit nuts with my credit card to ensure that I don't end up stranded in the middle of nowhere.
I've not attached any pictures because to be honest, I haven't taken many, apart from a wedding I assisted Zephyr photograph, plus taking photographs of suburban towns seems a bit pointless. I'm sure I'll make up for it.
The desert awaits...
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