Crossing the Desert

I love my country. Not the politics or the figurative national identity, but the actual country.Dorothy Mackeller said it best.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains
Of rugged mountain ranges
Of drought and flooding plains
I love her far horizons,
 I love her jewelled seas
Her Beauty and her terror
A wide brown land for me

Travelling across Australia was one of the best experiences of my life. Once we left Adelaide, the real country began. We stopped overnight in Quorn a small town in the middle of nowhere, which has three pubs and 1 general store. We walked on the train tracks, we walked down the street, there was very little traffic to compete with. Further north and we were driving through desert, so flat and empty it was hard to remember the 22 million people on the continent. We walked across salt lakes, enjoying the optical illusions they make, and marvelled at the dust clouds caused by the occasional car. Yes they really do that.

Two parts to this trip made it truly special. The first was the company. Aussies have a bad reputation for never travelling their own country, and while I can honestly say there were a few of us on the bus, we were largely outnumbered. Some of those people turned into of the best friends I've ever had, and some of the best people I've ever met. It also made it interesting, to be able to see my country through their eyes. For me, I was not surprised by the desert. I'm not sure if it was me being Australian, or if it was that I already knew a fair bit from my parents that the absoultely desolate parts make up the majority. I didn't see anything I didn't expect. But for the others, from Germany, Belgium, France, they lived so closely and their countries so populated, that to see so much space with no people around was a shock. One of my friends couldn't get over the fact that in the state of South Australia, there are only two million people. There are more than that in the capital of almost every European nation.

The second part of the trip was that I was absolutely content. We may have had our dramas, but I was on the road, driving across the country I loved and somewhere I had never experienced. I'd seen rolling green hills, and lofty mountain peeks covered in snow, I'd seen cities, both modern and ancient, but I had never been in a desert. I've said before I was made for heat, and while it wasn't exactly hot, the warmth and openness of it suited me. New Zealand made me feel claustrophobic with mountains on all sides. The deserts made me feel free.

I had many great adventures. Our bus blew a tyre somewhere on a cold lonely road surrounded by sheep. We got dropped off, again in the middle of nowhere in the dark to walk around Uluru and catch the sunrise. I spent a night shivering uncontrollably in a swag, unable to sleep for fear of freezing. I watched the sunset from on top of a mine in Coober Pedy, one of the strangest towns in existence, with two of the best people I've ever met. I was heartbreakingly miserable, and euphorically happy. I swam under waterfalls with crocodiles and jumped off cliffs. I kayaked through Katherine Gorge, and I conquered Heart Attack Hill. I made friends I liked so much I cried when we had to say good bye. A feat that had not been repeated before or since. Possibly the greatest lesson I learned from that trip was that travelling truly is something I love. I have never been happier than I was on that trip, whether it was climbing a mountain, or just sitting on the bus with some amazing friends, content to just keep moving over the horizon.