The road that passes for Highway One is not horrible, but if you happen to travel on the wrong day, which at the moment seems to be any day ending with the letter "y" you may not be filled with the sort of enthusiasm that travel writers seem to have in plenty when they breathlessly recount their adventures.
It's narrow, and under construction and crawling with caravans and transport vehicles forced to crawl behind them, at exactly insufficient distance to allow any vehicle to overtake safely. For several hundred kilometres it was crawling with sideshow trailers and amusement rides too, all intent on ensuring our commute would be as unpleasant as possible.
We were on a mission though, and although we had set very modest daily targets, at the end of each very long day we had the feeling that every kilometre had been hard won.
This was no endurance test, our expectation was to travel only around 500 kilometres each day, stopping for modest breaks for rest and meals en route, but the traffic disruption was so great that each evening we found ourselves setting up camp in the dark, or so close to it that it didn't matter.
Still, we were having fun and tomorrow it would be just a hop to Cooktown where our journey proper would begin.
No comments
Post a Comment