Back on the #1

Leaving Streaky Bay felt like a big step in my trip. It meant leaving the comfort of civilised towns, and also leaving my new friends. Ceduna was the next town to come, and the last proper town for 1,200km's. It was the gateway to the Nullarbor. During the build-up of my ride, and the ride itself, I had heard the word 'Nullarbor' used so many times in so many contexts. Horror stories about sharing the road with road-trains, troubles with aborigines, severe heat, severe cold, water carrying troubles, bike troubles etc. were playing on my mind. Most people view the Nullarbor simply as a long, boring passage from one side of the country to the other. I was feeling very anxious and keen to see this mighty emptiness with my own eyes, in order to form my own opinion.

When I arrived in Ceduna, it was getting late. Time-consuming punctures and a random run-in with my American friends Sherly and Crash had set me back well behind schedule.  I wanted to stay in a caravan park after countless warnings of theft and violence amongst the locals. There were about five caravan parks to choose from, and in my brilliance, I picked the worst of the lot. The man in the office was very friendly providing me with a lengthy, boring history lesson about wars within Europe, but my time was rewarded with a free dinner. He even gave me a discount on my accommodation. However, as I entered the camp-ground, my spirits fell. I was chased by a large vicious dog past rows of permanent caravan sites, all of which had aboriginal men and women sitting outside. They had dogs running wild despite signs about keeping dogs on leads. I had the feeling that they were living at the caravan park for a cheap fee, although I may be wrong. There were dead mice scattered around the toilet block and camping sites. There were police breaking up fights that were raging between locals. There were no other tourist-looking visitors to be seen. There was even a swing-rope hanging near my tent that looked curiously like a noose. It was a sinister scene. 

However, I slept the night in peace and packed up bright and early to explore the town. There was not much there really, just the bare-bone needs of a functioning town. I was soon chatting to a pair of aboriginal men fishing from the jetty, and felt the conversation had gone quite well. But the moment my back was turned - not two steps away - they were calling me some very rude, very hateful words indeed.

That was about enough for me, Ceduna had provided me with a place to stay, some bike parts and grocery items, and I was away - Finally into the Nullarbor!