After another long boring drive through the desert, I decided to make a pit stop in Adelaide — even though it is actually about 600 kilometers out of my way. The desert I had to drive through in northern South Australia (if that makes any sense) was largely in a government protected military area titled “Woomera” and famous locally for housing boat people in camps (indefinitely).
The South Australian desert has two distinctive characteristics in Australia. They seem to have a lot more flies than anywhere else I’ve been. Flies in Australia are not like the flies they have in the U.S. They seem preoccupied with trying to fly into every orifice on your body. Your nose, your ears, your mouth. Whatever they can find open. It’s very annoying. In the U.S. they just seem interested in your food. In Australia they seem to love the heat. In the U.S. they seem to like hanging out in cool places like your garage.
The other distinctive characteristic of the South Australian desert is the amount of road kill. When I pulled back on to the Stuart Highway from Uluru and started heading south, I was taken by the number of dead kangaroos lying by the side of the road that looked like they had only been hit in the past day or two. I even saw one with blood draining out of it into the middle of the road, but that may have had more to do with the vulture picking at its flesh than having just been hit. The odd thing was that I couldn’t seem to find any dead kangaroos that looked like they had been lying there for more than just a day or two. It was like some mass slaughter had just taken place.
Then after hundreds of kilometers of driving, I saw a truck pull over ahead of me and turn on some flashing orange lights. A man jumped out from his cab with a huge meat hook and swiped in down towards one of the fresh dead kangaroos. I just managed to pass him before the impact, but I did notice some sort of odd grinder on a trailor attached to the back of his truck. Ugh! Their kangaroo problem, I figured, must be so bad that they have to send this guy out to collect them every day. That’s why there wasn’t any older skeleton road meat like you find on most Australian highways.
Southern South Australia turned out to be completely different. Except for the flies. The boring desert turned into rolling green and yellow flowering hills and distant mountain ranges. It became absolutely beautiful as I headed into Port Augusta. I was a bit stunned when I arrived in Port Augusta, because I pulled over to take a break at a park and found the sea lapping up at my feet. It suddenly dawned on me that I had just driven entirely across a continent from sea to sea (Timor Sea to the Spencer Gulf).
I continued driving south to Adelaide, Australia’s next largest city after Perth, through beautiful countryside for another three hours. I managed to find a camping spot in a caravan park right next to the beach. Only problem was that it wasn’t warm like it was up north. It was that freezing damp cold I knew too well from living in Melbourne for six months back in 1992. I ended up spending a few nights and a full day in Adelaide before starting my trek back west to Perth.
Adelaide was nice, but the longer I spent there, the more it just seemed like just another big city with the same shops and attractions as any other big Australian city. The one thing Adelaide had that Perth doesn’t (besides being very green and shady and wet) was their Central Market. I started my day there and it was really great. Very much like Reading Terminal Market in Philadelphia. Just about the same size, too. And very well supported by the locals. Lots of fresh produce, fresh meats, fabulous looking deserts and other gourmet foods, surrounded my nice cafes.
After a few days of freezing nights in damp cold, I decided I should start to make my way back to Perth in time to catch my flight to New Zealand.
