skulking ground

Follow our family of Cunning(ham) Foxes on our turbulent travels around Oz

“Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits.”

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Null Abor

Null Abor

When the 380 has parked up and his wheels are no longer going round and round and you’re onto your last packet of bribing bickies, the last balloon has deflated, the strings of the uke snapped, our only deck of cards have been squished and I can no longer tell which is the joker or the jack and there’s a wild boar squealing in the back for I don’t know what. What then do you do with an almost two year old across the Nullabor? No Trees. We’re on the longest stretch of straight road in Australia, 145 km’s not a bend or bump in sight. He’ll got o sleep soon, hopefully before we do. It’s like driving in a landscape painting, oily puffs of violet clouds hovering over strokes of green and grey. There’s silence. For now. He’s found some boogies in his nose that can be rolled into balls and flicked at flies that try and land on him.

88k's to see a wombat

88k’s to see a wombat

Jake’s been anticipating the Nullabor before we even left the Sunshine Coast, triple checking the oil, researching water to fuel station ratios, mapping the entire journey, plus and minusing wind speed velocity. Traveling on the Nullabor is like living in a series of really long moments, it’s a silence that slowly builds up with thoughts of yesterday, tomorrow and today. Watching memories like old movies flicker and fade. The clouds are patchy in the sky, pockets of fluffy grey in between spaces of clarity, my mind opening up in front of me, a little too much fluffiness on the right side. He’s asleep.

I suppose we could do the Nullabor links, the world’s longest golf course, spanning 1365 kilometres, one hole every hundred or so km’s.  But we forgot to pack the clubs, and those shoes with the spikes and some checkered pants so we’ll have to stick to singing out of tune, staring at the sky and waving at cars that go by. Neil Young it’s been great travelling with you but please for all our sake’s play another bloody song! That cowgirl is well and truly buried in the sand, maybe sing us something more upbeat about the moon and the stars and a comfortable dream, what’s that one called again? oh that’s right ‘Helpless’. Alright Young your no use, OUT!

Get your motor runnin'

Get your motor runnin’

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One thought on ““Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits.”

  1. My partner and I just did this drive. Twice. It’s challenging lol Goodluck!!

    Like

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