On a bicycle made for two...

Before leaving Western Australia and embarking on what would become a four day drive east across the Nullarbor, the allure of old gold rush town Kalgoorlie-Boulder enticed us to make a slight (400km round trip) detour. We spent a handful of days in town, returning each night to a huge official free camping area just out of town. They’re not short of space in these parts! The town, with a cowboy feel and a legalised brothel, is still pulling the gold stuff out from the ground in what is the world’s largest open cut goldmine. Having not made our fortunes and instead picked up two stone chips in the windscreen, we cramped onward to Norseman with some basic instructions written on a scrap of paper, given to us by a local chap. Directions weren't needed for Norseman, we were back in the sticks where just one road went from a to b with nothing much in between. The directions were for locating an abandoned miners house made entirely from 44 gallon oil drums, which appa

Our most recent drama had been when the Crampervan horn decided to throw a fit whilst we were driving. Yes this actually happened and typically it was when I was at the wheel. I'd indicated left to let the oncoming ‘wide load’ road train (yes they stack them as wide as they do long) know that I was moving over to straddle the side of the road. Engaging the indicator had caused the horn to sound which was odd. Neither of us were prepared for the din that was about to follow! Moving over the white line had resulted in a handful of erratic horn outbursts of varying lengths at the point we were about to pass the oncoming truck. The driver must have wondered what I was doing, especially when the horn then decided to lock on and continually sound whilst we passed each other. Trying to communicate with L, in a non panicked fashion, about what on earth was happening and how to get it stop it, proved unachievable over the din. Luckily after managing to pull off the road it was just