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After leaving Darwin we had two nights in Broome where we addressed a major necessity - buying me a hat to cover my unruly mop! We also had a night watching a film at an open-air cinema. It was lovely sitting in old deck chairs and scoffing popcorn with a few people we met in the hostel and watching this massive screen in the middle of the main street in town. We all got eaten alive by mozzies and the film was a bit bobbins but it was a cool experience to have had!
We picked up our campervan on day two - a 3-berth with Elton John emblazoned on both sides and "what winks and screws like a tiger"scrawled on the back. For god's sake - Elton John!?!?!? We've fully embraced the idea of being embaressed/ing for the next 3000km with me doing my muppets version of Crocodile Rock and Simon catawalling Are You Ready for Love at every avaiable oppurtunity. Both of us are winking at anyone who asks "so - what does wink and screw like a tiger?"
We headed out of Broome for our first leg of the campervan saga and into... nothing. Literally nothing but scrub-land and the odd roo bounding into the road for as far as the eye can see. It's really scenic and with the air-con and the stereo blaring full-blast (or me and Simon tunlessly catawalling We're on a Road to Nowhere) it's great just driving along. Of course, we wouldn't be us without a bit of nonsense to break up the journey. Nearly 40km away from civilisation, in blistering temperatures, having polished off all our drinking water, we ran out of fuel. The van did us proud and carried on for about 15 km with the needle on "Empty" and Simon chanting "come-on Elton, just a bit further - please god!" before it finally died.
We now both firmly believe that there is a god and he does have his eye on us sparrows. Just as panic was beginning to gather and we were getting ready to blame eachother for not having enough petrol in the tank, a JCB digger carrying our saviour appeared from behind some shrubs - like a knight on on a white charger - with a few litres of unleaded in the back!
On our way again - like the littlest hobos - we spent a night in Port Hedland before toodling off into our next disaster. As we drove out of a place called Karratha, we drove past a sign for a lookout point so we swung around and went to have a butchers. Simon later said that "in hindsight" the sand he was driving into did look a bit soft...... So obviously we got stuck in so sand and our futile attempts to get out just made the situation worse - stupid pommes are we! So the next saviour we were sent turns out to be a Kiwi bloke and his Aussie wife in a 4x4 with - wait for it - a WYNCH on the front. The 4x4 was new, the wynch had never been used (what anyone needs a wynch on a domestic vehicle for I don't know but I was bloody glad of it!) and the kiwi was clearly mad for having a go.
Back on the road, filthy, grubby and sweaty - resolving to do at least two good deeds asap - and we're off for the next bit of nonsense!
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