Leaving from Mt Gambier, South Australia seemed determined to show off what it had to offer. Clear blue skies, warm sunshine, empty roads. We covered the miles, seeing hardly anyone on the road, just miles and miles of desolate empty countryside. The only time houses showed up on the horizon was when we started to get a camera out to prove how empty it all was. The late start, the additional distance, and the stop in Mt Gambier to do touristy things, meant that we were a little behind schedule (surprise surprise!) and the distance to Adelaide meant we were never going to arrive in time for lunch, so we pulled off along a beach stretch at a signed picnic spot. As we came off the highway - it seemed like benches would be just there ready for us to sit on, but we were following the driveway all the way across the dunes, with no signs or any indication that we were in fact going in the right direction. Up and along the unsealed road took us, both Doug and I looking at each other and going.... we'll just go to that next bit.. that next bit. Eventually we reached the end of the track and decided the sign had been lying, no picnic benches, no promised cafe, no toilet rest stop - just a lot of barn like buildings with no one around. We stopped the car and got our own table and chairs out, thankfully prepared for lunch on our own. As we were unpacking, we spotted that the barn we were next to had glass windows on the far end overlooking the sea, and a sand bank island with some weird clouds over it. Inside this strangely setup barn was some tables, and someone bustling around - it wasn't until she came out and asked if we wanted anything before she went home that it was confirmed. We'd found the cafe. After a messy lunch, we hit the road again - feeling the effects of the South Australian sun bearing down and heating the wagon up. The temperature started to rise inside the car, and only got worse after our first road kill incident - the bird just wasn't looking as it flew down the road. Shortly after this, we thought it wise to check the front of the wagon in case of damage - maybe this was why the inside of the car was starting to boil. No such luck, there was no evidence of Doug's murder - except the body we left lying in the road. Feeling the time pressure again, we pushed on, mindful of destroying the car. It was about this time that we worked out the 12v socket and 3 way splitter we had wasn't working properly. None of our devices were charging, and most had run out of battery. Despite much playing and fiddling we weren't able to get any consistent charging out of the car - we didn't have time to worry about it as we still hadn't reached Adelaide, where we planned to stop and make a decision on how to proceed for the night. As we drew close to Adelaide I started looking at the city map. It seems like Adelaide is a well planned city in terms of layout. There's a heap of parkland surrounding the city centre which is laid out in a grid format. Typical to what we've seen of Australia so far though, the signage for what the road is doing was abysmal - and they clearly hadn't considered the effect of having 4 lanes coming in. no signs, and only 2 lanes leading away from a junction. The further in and round we went, the more the showed. Adelaide - a beautiful, pretty city, dressed to the 9's with good road layout and buildings - but just like the comparable supermodel.... absolutely lacking in brains. Based on the time, we took a leisurely drive around and pulled off the road to confer on the options open to us. We'd arrived in Adelaide at 5pm - we guesstimated about 2 - 2.5 hours to our planned stop, and the rugby started in 2 hours. Clearly this was not going to work. The best option we could think of was to extend our trip by an extra day - maybe visit some wineries while we wee in SA and just rework the distances involved. TO this end, we started with the most important factor - where to watch the Rugby. Location chosen, we took a drive there to search nearby for a backpackers. We were still struggling with power - the phone car charger only worked intermittently, and most of the devices were drained. Google led us to 1 option - and luckily we'd parked just down the road from it. The challenge now was to dig out the passports so we'd be able to check in. Doug had already had one scare with his passport less than 50k out of Melbourne, it wasn't in the bag he assumed it was. A quick search of the car and other bags turned up blank, and we had to proceed hoping he had in fact packed it somewhere more sensible. As soon as he stopped racking his brain for where it was, he remembered - its packed in the bottom of his big bag.... of course. My passport on the other hand, i knew for a fact had been packed into my ski bag. Worst place to put it as my ski bag wasn't supposed to be touched until Sydney - consequently was packed right at the bottom of the car. Eventually, passports in hand we wondered down the road to the hostel. No such luck. We weren't on the road we were supposed to be, so we had 2 blocks down and 1 over to go before we got there, round a film set which had closed of half the streets. It looked like a good call when we walked in though. The girl behind the counter was fit, and English. After checking out an elderly gent, she turned her charming smile on us. Of course, with our luck - there was no way this was going to work out so well. There was no rooms available. Some freak occurrence she said, it was just suddenly busy. She did manage to recommend a couple of other places though, and so as we walked back to the pub we called to reserve a room (not wanting to miss any of the rugby - we had our priorities right). Again, Lady Luck was not with us - all the places we tried were full as well, and all their sister hostels were packed out as well. No room at the inn. Short of finding a stable for the night, we'd have to come up with some other sort of option. The backup plan was for me not to drink, and to drive us out after the rugby and crash out in a rest area when we couldn't carry on. On the off chance of finding some local ladies who might be able to put us up for the night, Doug freshened up at the car. With his hair together and his pulling shirt on, a quick shower in a can later we headed on to the pub. Despite being the Final of the Rugby World cup, the pub was hardly busy and we managed to get seats at the bar with a good view of the screen. We'd been warned that the locals weren't all that lively - but when you compare the semi final we watched the week before, where the pub was packed to the rafters and on winning the game, one rowdy NZ fan started a brawl right in front of us. The polar opposite was the case in Adelaide. Throughout the game, the cheers of the fans watching upstairs could be heard - 30 seconds delayed from the cheer-able event on the screen (editorial note: the delay may have been due to delay in the picture arriving at their tv screen, but I prefer to believe its just evidence of how slow they are...) When the final whistle blew, no fights erupted, no crowd of people cheering or celebrating - the bloke in front of us however gave his partner a slap on the knee, a quick kiss on the cheek and went to get another drink. With no other offers for the night we headed back to the car to set of again. It was a tough journey away, it was now fully dark, the roads were full of road trains, and keeping alert was a constant game. Fruit, fresh air, and diet coke kept pulling me along, as well as the concentration games I'd perfected driving a camper van from Sydney to Cairns. We finally passed Port Pirie, which was as far as I reckoned we needed to come for the night and started looking for suitable rest stops. The 2 we tried were rubbish, and we eventually found ourselves at Port Germain - where we had planned to camp for the night when we wrote the itinerary. We decided to check it out, and a more dreary place we couldn't have found. The campsite was a caravan park, with some rustly shrubs everywhere and of course being 11.30pm there was no reception desk open. We hit the road once more, determined to find somewhere to sleep. A promising sign showed 10k down the road leading us to a campsite - which wasn't only closed but was locked and full of the same rubbish shrubs which would have been a nightmare to sleep on. Giving up, we pitched on the side of the track, and called it a night.
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