While Not Working

Morning on the river at Fort Courage. The Happy band of nomads and fishers, stoking up the fire box in preparation for their communal breakfast. I knew I should've hung around a bit longer. Well, sitting around peaceful caravan parks fraternising with jolly nomads and eating all the food in one's panniers doesn't really achieve much in the way of forward motion. Eventually, the pedals had to go around again. "I can't believe you fit all of that on a bicycle!" said my neighbour, despite having with her own eyes watched me unpack two nights ago, and now reverse the process. Off I went, delighted by the rediscovery of how fast and smooth it was to ride on a sealed road. Just 6km in I stopped for my first snack break beside the Darling Anabranch, where I would have camped had I not been seduced by the hedonistic pleasures of Fort Courage. Water pooled beside the road, courtesy of recent rain. Excuse the thumb. Grand old trees beside the Anabranch. Anabranch bridg...

Chowilla Game Reserve turned on a stunning sunrise to start my day. I followed the National Park track beside Chowilla Creek as empty campsites ticked past on my right, each one with fire pits and  water access. By midday I'd made it all the way to Todd's Obelisk which marked the border between South Australia and New South Wales. Back in 1868 Todd set up a temporary observatory here and fixed the position of the 141st meridian of longitude, on which the border which SA shared with NSW and Vic was based. This presented a slight problem for Vic and SA as it highlighted the unfortunate fact that the border south of the river, surveyed in 1850ish, was some 3.2km west of where it should be. NSW didn't care. Victoria shrugged, who cares if we've got a strip of South Australia's red sandhills and saltbush anyways? South Australia clutched its pearls in horror and marched off to court to claim what rightfully belonged to all South Australians. In 1914 they finally conceded...

Time to go. I  stood beside my bicycle, a large red pannier in each hand. "You must be in a boat, said the man who was wiping the window sills of the Renmark Hotel. I asked how he had come to that conclusion. "You've got the fuel containers he said, proud of his deductive powers. " They're panniers for a bike." I held them up. "I'm on a bicycle." "Oh. They look like fuel containers" Should've gone to Specsavers, is all I can say. I took forever to leave Renmark, walking up and down the riverfront looking for a place to fill my water bottles. I needed water bottles because for two days I wouldn't have access to drinking water without going through a painful process of boiling or filtering the river water. With 12 litres of water on board, the bike was heavy and unwieldy. I pedaled past irrigation channels, through citrus orchards and neat rows of stone fruit trees in full autumn dress before leaving the bitumen and heading ou...