Ridin’ through Oz, Days 4 and 5: Nothing like “Total Recall”, schadenfreude, and sunsets to lift the spirits!

Day Four

The Twelve Apostles near Petersborough, Australia

The Twelve Apostles (but there are really only 8)

We woke up to gray skies, and quickly reached the executive decision that we were making good time, wanted to hang around the area for a bit longer, didn’t really want to slog it out on twisty roads in the rain, and so stayed another day. We lounged about, went back to see the erroneously named 12 Apostles (there are only eight) and London Bridge (which had previously collapsed, marooning a few people on a limestone stack for several hours). All this sightseeing quickly made us hungry, so we continued on to a nearby cheese factory, where we took part in a cheese tasting, ordered a cheese platter, and then bought some Brie and blueberries for the evening meal. The weather started to sour, so we went back to the pad, watched the overly-cerebral and unnecessarily-complicated Schwarzenegger masterpiece ‘Total Recall’, and whiled away the afternoon on an epicurean bender.

Day Five

Bay of Martyrs

Yaegan and I at the Bay of Martyrs

We woke up to perfect blue skies and almost no wind, and so, somewhat reluctantly, said goodbye to sleepy Peterborough. We were both feeling fresh and keen to ride, and set to move into South Australia by the end of the day. We rode out of Peterborough, passing by the Bay of Martyrs, and winding around the coast.

Sadly, as we moved out and away from the GOR, the road turned into an incredibly boring arrow. No bends, no scenery, just red earth, scrub, and an antipodean sun bearing down upon us in our leathers. However, shortly after thinking this, we passed by some bloke on a pushbike going the same way, and my little burst of schadenfreude made me feel slightly better about our situation. We continued along, and passed through the state border into Mt. Gambier in the late afternoon. For the last few hours, we had been riding with our eyes into the sun – I had a tinted visor, which made life better, but we both were in need of a sit down in the shade – this came along in the town of Robe.

We were feeling like camping, so, five k’s after we passed through Kingston S.E. (this presumably stands for South East, though we were never able to find any evidence either way for this hypothesis), we went down a little dirt road. After coming up a crest, we were rewarded with a view of our own private beach for the evening. Being unsure as to the legality of camping, we hid our bikes off the road, set up a tent behind a shrub (quite a sizeable shrub, mind), and were able to watch the sun set over the sea. We had both been reading, but looked up from our book, transfixed, for the last twenty minutes, as the oranges morphed into blues into purples into darkness, forming a perfect blanket dotted with stars. I hadn’t been away from the city for a while, so was floored by the beauty of the un-light-polluted night sky.

Beach Hideaway

Our Beach Hideaway just past Kingston S.E.

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