The guy camped next to us is on his CB radio listening to Japanese truck drivers send out co-ordinates to deliver furniture. He’s not Japanese. He’s an old guy from Charters Towers who wears stubbies with the little pocket on the front for change whose name must be Bob or Dusty. He looks like a Bob. Definitely not Japanese. But he’s tuning in to something bigger than I can understand. Maybe his wife doesn’t want to play scrabble. I know mine doesn’t. Finding things to do while Bodhi sleeps. I’ve overdosed on relax and need a little hit of Stimulon! There’s only so many times you can have silent sex in a ½ metre squared diameter.
Bodhi’s getting too big for the van, his car seat and his boots! Traveling is not as easy now he’s older. We’ve gone through Albany and the Salmon Holes and the Natural Bridge and the old Brigadiere, drove the heritage trail and past the wind farm all the way to the littlest beach, on our way to Esperance, the last major town in WA before we hit the Nullabor. We’re stopping mostly at free camp spots. I worked enough in Perth for petrol but not accommodation. I met a life coach who didn’t listen, she just talked about her lack of luxuries from the carpeted step of her 40 ft bus. She wrote a book to inspire people to be more like her. We drove away. Past a broken down windmill in a whole lot of nothin’. A few blackened trees lined the way. A flattened wheat-belt turned into hay. Headed for a few days to Lucky Bay.