星空视频

by Gordan Wheat

This is a memoir, written by Gordan in 1983 and published here with permission. Readers are advised that some of the cultural references reflect the language and lifestyle of that era.

For all those travellers and would-be travellers waiting to experience Australia.

FOREWORD

Australia is a great country. It is just waiting to be seen. From red dusty roads to beautiful, lush rainforest and everything else in路between. If you get the chance, get a vehicle and take off. You won’t regret it. I wrote this book to share my experiences, It was written so other people can see the pure joy of travel. It may even give some people some ideas. Though the trip was done in 1983, it still has relevance today. For an alternative lifestyle, please read on. I hope you enjoy what I have written and may you travel well.

In 1983 I had a job at Channel 10 in Sydney. It was quite enjoyable work, but I wanted to see Australia. Still living at home in West Pymble, Sydney, I thought I’d buy a second-hand VW Kombi and travel Australia. I bought a second-hand 1974 Kombi on Parramatta Road, Sydney. It cost only $3,500; it had a stereo, double-bunk at the back, cupboards, a bar fridge, portable stove! It seemed perfect for what I needed. The engine was a bit scratchy, but I was prepared to give it a go.

In 1983 I was quite a good-natured, humorous sort of a guy, with good intentions and a desire to succeed. Working at Channel 10, aged 19, was OK, but I found it difficult learning to use the computers, so I quit and thought I’d travel Australia. At 19, you don’t have much responsibility, and the world’s your oyster.

I didn’t plan anything. A lot of what happened just sort of fell into place. All I planned was to have a good time, without any major hassles. I thought I’d tackle my adventure anti-clockwise, as I felt the best was on the east coast.

I left with about $2,500, which was quite a decent amount of money in 1983. Throwing a few things in the back:- a sleeping bag, a fan heater, a jerry can for petrol, innovative cassette tapes, clothes etc. I left Sydney in April, 1983.

With an unquenchable desire for adventure, and not knowing what to expect, I said good-bye to my parents and headed off in the early dawn. Driving through the streets of West Pymble at an ungodly hour, I felt this overwhelming feeling聽of freedom and excitement that I hadn’t felt before. I was finally doing it; I was on my way.

I can’t begin to tell you about the joys of travel. Waking up to a new adventure every day, not having to go to work etc. I considered myself as a bit of a hippy, and was always interested in alternate lifestyles.

Heading north up the Pacific Highway, I soon arrived聽at Gosford, where I saw a guy walking, I guessed, to work. I didn’t envy him. Music pouring out of the speakers, I made my way slowly up the coast.

I was a bit of a hippy in 1983, and I’d heard stories about the hippies in Northern NSW around Byron Bay and Nimbin and Cairns, North Queensland. I don’t mind saying I was a bit na’ive at that age, but was really looking forward to checking out these beautiful places.

Travelling is indescribable when you’re young and you have the world at your feet. Nothing can defeat you as you seek every pleasure and you sense the beauty and splendour of what’s around you.

Apparently, in the 1970’s, the hippies around Nimbin used to pool their dole cheques and buy plots of land in the lush countryside around northern NSW. It’s not hard to imagine what it would be worth today.

My hair was quite long, and I decided to throw away the razor and grow a beard. Sitting above the road in the Kombi was commanding, and the simplicity of the vehicle suited me no end. I had an old camera with me and would take shots of interesting things.

Accommodation was simple. Crash out in the back on a board with foam rubber cushioning. I had a portable fluorescent light and small lights on the roof. My music was my companion as I’d beat out Neil Young, Jean Michel Jarre, Deep Purple etc. I didn’t use the portable stove because I thought it dangerous using gas. I couldn’t work out how the fridge worked, so I didn’t use it.聽 I think I had to be connected to the battery or something. Life was simple in 1983!

I slowly wound my way up the NSW coast, stopping at caravan parks for showers, food etc. A lot of interesting people could be met in these places. Many a long and meaningful conversation was to be had here around a campfire, where permissible.

Beer, beer, beer, the national pastime, was consumed where possible, where finances allowed.聽 I’ve never been rich and most of my fellow travellers were in the same boat. I didn’t smoke at this stage but I did pick it up later on in the trip.

You must remember, at 20 years of age you are open-minded and cool with the world. Your parents are still looking after you, so you only have yourself to think about. Also, in 1983, the lifestyle was a lot simpler and carefree, come-as-you颅 please type of atmosphere, which is what I miss so much today. So complex, computerised etc. Luckily I still have the memories in my head.

Many a time I would park the van in a sidestreet or reserve and crash out there when I couldn’t afford caravan park fees. Money was always a bit of a problem.

It must be remembered also that everything was much cheaper in 1983. Cigarettes – $2 a pack, beer – 90c a schooner, petrol – $16 to fill up, caravan fees etc.

Traversing my way through Newcastle, I made my way to Buhladelah. It was here that I felt that my journey had begun. Driving down a winding road off the Pacific Highway, Myall Lakes on the right, I arrived at Forster/Tuncurry. Well, what a sight to behold! Clear blue water and sand everywhere. There were good vibes happening here. My hippy spirit was being kindled.

What a perfect lifestyle; mobility, a home on wheels and a new adventure every day in some of Australia’s best landscapes.

A modern town and across the bridge to sister town, Tuncurry. I bought some food at the supermarket and continued on my way.聽 Up through Port Macquarie and on to Coff’s Harbour, where I walked through the Big Banana. Bananas everywhere, as the climate suited their production. I had been here as a kid; but it looked much different this time around. I was seeing it from a different perspective. As a driver, not as a passenger.

I hadn’t felt homesick yet. It’s believed after about three months you begin to feel homesick for your family and friends who you have left behind. I had great memories of nights out in Manly, Hornsby and other places with the guys and girls in Sydney. This tradition continued on throughout my travels.

I felt the best was yet to come: Byron, Nimbin聽 and up the Queensland coast.聽 How far I travelled depended on the condition of the roads, as a Kombi might find it hard to tackle some routes. A 4WD was needed in some areas north of Cairns, but the Kombi held up quite well in most terrains.聽I can’t tell you the feeling of travelling around with no responsibilities, complete freedom and the awe-inspiring beauty of the Australian landscape. It is quite overwhelming. Imagine lying in your van near the sea, with good music playing and the world at your feet. I was still travelling on my own at this stage, but this was to change later on.

What is the difference between a traveller and a tourist? A traveller never has any money.

This trip would prove to be a life-changing聽 experience.聽 I was feeling great, at one with the world- a journey I would never forget nor be able to emulate. My spirit was pure and holy.聽 I can’t describe the feeling.聽 Just utmost joy.聽 I hope you will experience it one day. It is entirely spiritual, as you feel immersed in perfection: the glory of God. Such a beautiful experience.

Well I was on my way again. Yes, I had arrived in Ballina. This beautiful seaside town. Lots of hippies here. Bright, beautiful clothing and amazing hairstyles. There was a large wooden boat lying on the grass near the road. An important link to the past, I understood.聽聽 I walked into this building which was聽filled with聽Aboriginal people.聽 I wasn’t sure what was happening; I think they were organising a protest or something.

On to Byron, and I was thoroughly immersed in this hippy-traveller spirit. The beach was beautiful.聽 I’d聽often stop here and there for a few beers and a chat and continue on my way. I didn’t stay long in Byron for I wanted to see Nimbin, west of Byron.

I arrived to see a big double-decker bus out the front of the town. I remember having my stars read by some hippy and buying some local honey.

This place was about as hip as you could get. Even the school was alternative – Outdoors and with a varied syllabus. I continued up the highway through Surfers, all neat and petite. A bit touristy for me.聽 Then on to Brisbane, where after four attempts I eventually found the Storey Bridge, which I needed to cross. A little sign about a foot and a half by six inches was all that indicated it. There was no real need for me to stay too long here, so I continued on up the Bruce Highway.

Well I was just south of Caloundra and the engine blew. Sparks were flying out of the exhaust pipe.聽 I couldn’t think what it might be.聽 Maybe not enough oil.聽 I walked to an old farmhouse to see if they had any oil, and rang the RACQ for assistance. The man from the RACQ towed me to his place, just north of where I broke down, and parked me near his house, and I slept the night there a bit uncomfortably.聽 Next day聽he towed me to an auto repair shop in Caloundra, where the man there, not much older than me, made me welcome in his home, while he ordered a new, reconditioned engine from somewhere. We even went to a disco together, and he let me drive his go-cart. $750 later, and after many thanks and good-byes, I was on my way again through the spectacular Glasshouse Mountains and through Nambour, which was very beautiful. 路

I picked up a girl hitchhiker at Rainbow Beach, who wanted a lift to Townsville for a nursing job. We travelled together to Townsville, where I dropped her off with a “see-ya” and “good luck.” Through Maryborough and Hervey Bay, where I had a quick look around. It didn’t interest me much here, but was quite nice.

I noticed it becoming warmer, almost sub-tropical, as I was getting nearer to the Tropic of Capricorn. This was all new to me and I didn’t know what to expect; but so far, I聽wasn’t disappointed.聽I was noticing a lot of the houses were built on stilts, a lot different to Sydney. This was to keep the houses cooler in summer, and a safe颅 guard against flooding.

The Kombi was handling the trip quite well. So far with only the new engine to report and no flat tyres, thank goodness.聽 My music was a great accompaniment,as I made my way up the Queensland coast. Leisurely.cruising as I’d stick on some Jean Michel Jarre and enjoy the ride. The exciting, harmonious music seemed to suit the mood perfectly. What an adventure I was having.

Up through Bundaberg, where Bundaberg Rum comes from, and into Gladstone. Gladstone is quite an industrial place to do with shipping. I didn’t particularly like the look or feel of this town, so I moved on.

Rockhampton was the next port of call. It was definitely getting warmer as I made my way further up the coast.聽 I was getting nearer to the tropics.聽 The Queensland feel was rather endearing, I thought, so different to NSW in geography and atmosphere, sort of a semi-tropical聽feel.聽 The vegetation was different too. Trees with pink and orange flowers. I don’t know what they’re called; I think they are called bougainvilleas. Passed through Yeppoon, a Japanese town, and on to Mackay and then on to Townsville. I fell in love with this place. I thought, if this is the gate颅 way to the tropics, imagine what Cairns will be like. Walked through the shops and bought some moisturiser for my face in a health store. There was a big mountain in the background. It had a real tropical feel, nice and warm and sunny. Palm trees everywhere.

My good friend Alison was with me now, and she ended up travelling with me to Cairns and beyond and out to Alice Springs and “Ayres Rock”. As it turned out, she only lived a couple of streets up from me in Pymble, Sydney.聽 Unbelievable.聽 We had some great times together and saw many things. She even took over the driving at times.

Well now it was on our way to Cairns, the spot I most liked in the whole journey. Talk about a spiritual place. It nearly blew my mind as we came into Cairns.

Tropical warm feel. I was feeling so much spiritual joy now. I felt like a real hippy as we made our way to the Esplanade, where the Youth Hostels were. We booked in for good hot showers, meals, a bed, video room and good conversations with young people from all over the world.

It was here that I met Bill and Helen, English travellers here for a good time. They ended up travelling with me to Central Australia. A group of us, including a couple of Canadian girls, would go out to the “Playpen”, a sophisticated bar with stage, live music. Then back to the hostel for some well-earned sleep. Spaghetti Night was always good – $1 a plate. Unfortunately, Cairns itself did not have a beach, just mud flats and palm trees, though there were some great beaches just north of Cairns.

The hippy culture was alive and well here. Everyone in a festive spirit and having a great time. Alison went on to stay at one of the beaches. I parked the Kombi out the front of the hostel and hung around the hostel a bit.

The tropics are so alluring, lush green mountains encasing cool blue water and green, green palm trees, under which many beers were consumed. So much to see, so much to路do. Such a leisurely lifestyle. You could spend a lifetime here. I considered I had the perfect lifestyle, though; wheels and beautiful scenery.

Cairns had a pub or bar just about on every corner. Three great ones that come to mind were “Hydes” in the mall, the “Big -0”, closer to the Esplanade, and “Nighthawks”, where we’d get a free meal occasionally, I guess to boost their patronage. I heard there was a two-storey limit to all buildings in the Cairns area in those days, to maintain the tropical feel of the area. I聽don’t know what the laws are now.聽 I聽did go back a few times later and there were some high-rises then, no doubt to accommodate the many tourists from both here and abroad. Fishing is popular here, and some big-name overseas identities have visited here to try their luck. There was a beautiful amphi颅theatre in the mall, where musicians played their hearts聽out.聽 It聽was聽great to聽sit聽on the steps and watch. You could catch a rickshaw to just about anywhere in Cairns, for a moderate fee.

While here we decided to go to Green Island, off the coast. We travelled there by a ferry-type boat and Green Island proved to be a paradise, untouched but for a couple of structures. You could go in a glass-bottomed boat, which we did, and see all the lovely coral and sea creatures. Some of us went snorkelling to get a better look.

The road was my friend on the journey.聽 You almost became hypnotised by the road as you travelled kilometre after kilometre, sometimes in a straight line. A lot of the driving was done at night, where my music took control, and this feeling of peace and freedom engulfed me. The beauty of the countryside was awe-inspiring, as I’d make my way to another town, another place to lay my head and enjoy the beautiful surrounds, wherever I happened to be in this beautiful paradise.

Kuranda, north of Cairns, sounded nice, so a few of us took off to the rainforest town for the Sunday markets, where I bought a purple hippy shirt ($18) and various other knick-knacks. Incense made the spiritual journey more enjoyable, as music was to be heard everywhere. I got a fine for parking in the wrong place, but got let off thankfully. Stalls everywhere; cocoanuts, hippy gear, you name it.

I guess I was feeling a bit homesick at this stage, but I didn’t show it. Just cruising, immersed in the splendour of the great vibes happening here. You could get a train up here, where Kuranda Station was immersed in foliage of the tropical kind.

It was then back down to the hostel in Cairns, where we talked about where to go next. We decided to go to the Atherton Tablelands, so green and fertile. Not a lot to do here, but great scenery. We passed through Mareeba as well, where tobacco or rice were grown or processed.

Our next area of interest was Cape Tribulation, in the rainforest. We travelled north, turning right at Mossman and then to the Daintree River, where a ferry was waiting to take us across. This proved to be a very spiritual place. Such beauty as we made our way up a muddy road and through a series of little creeks. The Kombi stood up well in first gear, as we made our way to the youth hostels in the forest. Young people everywhere, doing what people do in a paradise like this. A few of us climbed Mt Sorrow, where leeches and other rainforest creatures would torment us. I was the only one that made it to the top, where a thick mist awaited me. Such beauty and mystery.

We would often pick lemongrass on the side of the road and make lemongrass tea by boiling it up. A sort of fasting food, good for clearing out the system. The traditional beers would be flowing as we’d explore this natural wonderland. Untouched white sand with rainforest and clear blue water surrounding it. Hippies would make make颅shift tin shanties deep in the rainforest and wash in the water. What a perfect lifestyle. Rainforest is so spiritual, especially in the tropics, where the ocean meets the rain颅 forest. I ended up staying here and in Cairns for about six weeks, but I felt it was time to move on.

I had Bill, Helen, Alison and a few others with me now as we made our way back down to Townsville for the ride across to the Northern Territory. With some continuous driving along the Flinders Highway we made our way through Charters Towers and Mt Isa, where we had a beer, and finally on to Camooweal, where the barren, treeless landscape was evident. The caravan park was just dirt, with small power poles protruding out of the ground. Plenty of open space here. Finally it was on to Tennant Creek, through Three Ways Junction, which was the junction with the Barkley and Stuart Highways. We took photos of the Northern Territory border.

Tennant Creek was your typical outback outpost. It was hot during the day and cool at night; it took some getting used to. We didn’t spend much time here. There wasn’t a lot to do.

It was then down the Stuart Highway to Alice Springs, passing through the “Devil’s Marbles”, large, red, round balls of stone, scattered here and there. Alice Springs is quite a modem town, with its financial and public facilities scattered in the centre聽 of town. Well, it was 1983. No high-rises here.聽 It was here that I started up smoking, a habit I haven’t been able to kick yet.

We had arrived just in time for the Henley-on-Todd Regatta, a boat race along the Todd River sand bed. I was lucky to participate in one race. Great fun. I discovered the magic of Indian beadies, narrow cigarettes wrapped in tobacco leaves, with pink cotton wrapped around the end. Incense was always burning in the van, setting the mood for joy and fun.

It was then on to “Ayers Rock”, arriving at sunrise to see the changing colours of the Rock. Photographers were everywhere, catching the changing colours as the day went on. We thought we should climb the Rock, so up we went via a chain to hang on to about a metre up. Plaques were posted on the Rock, indicating where people had fallen. On arriving at the top a spectacular view awaited us of low-lying scrub and small trees. We signed the visitors’ book and made our way back down. I then decided to walk around the Rock, which took about two hours, seeing a section of rock weathered in the shape of a skull. It was quite a tranquil feeling as I made my way round. Signs indicating sacred sites were posted at the end of the walk. It was good to see that the Aboriginal people had reclaimed some sacred land, including the Rock and elsewhere.

Then we made our way to the Olgas and the Valley of the Winds. I parked the Kombi at the entrance, and on returning was quite relieved to see it still there. The walk through the Valley of the Winds and the Olgas was quite enthralling, sort of like bushwalking with a different flavour.

It was then back to Alice Springs where we saw the outline of a body on the bridge. Apparently the owner of the hostel had been murdered there. We then walked on to a food and wine festival, where we got in for free – via the fence.

It was then on to Mataranka to the thermal springs. Service was nice at the pub in the bush, and I had one or two here. The springs proved to be a great hangover cure. Nice and warm after a long drive.

It was now on to Darwin. Alison and some of the others either stayed in Alice or moved on. Bill and Helen headed south to Adelaide for the plane home. Up through the Territory I went, arriving in Katherine, where the local pub had a carpet of cockroaches covering the entrance. I felt some good vibes here. It was quite a small town at the time. I didn’t stay here long, but continued on my way. A few of us went to Katherine Gorge, which was quite spectacular. We went liloing in the murky water.

On we went towards Darwin, up the Stuart Highway. The temperature was hot. As we arrived in Darwin, one of the girls I was travelling with, Nu, wanted to call in on an old friend. The temperature was so hot we had to sit in the shopping centre to cool off. I found Darwin pleasantly tropical and new. It had been rebuilt after Cyclone Tracy in 1974.

The Kombi was handling the terrain well with the new engine and not one flat tyre, thank goodness. Soon after I arrived in Darwin I parked in a powered site toward evening and ordered a meal and a few ciders. Such a refresh颅ing drink after a day travelling in the heat. It was a bit cool at night and my fan heater proved invaluable.

I went for a dip in Darwin Harbour, only to learn later that it was full of crocadiles. I nearly died.聽 There were some great pubs and nightclubs here.聽 One that springs聽 to mind was the “Vic Hotel” with a swaying apparatus on the roof to keep the temperature down.聽 Apparently a crocodile was seen walking through the mall when we there.

I was checking for mail from home as often as I could, a welcome companion on my trip of a lifetime. I would also, naturally, write letters back home, as I imagine they would be interested in what I was doing, and that I hadn’t been killed or something. I found it a bit hard to translate into words how I was feeling, these feelings of peace and joy, but I wrote how I felt and described as best I could my goings on, with the aid of postcards. I really wanted my family to see and feel what a great experience I was having. I hadn’t forgotten my friends in Sydney as well, but looked forward to renewing acquaintances when I got home.

There were me and a few of us left to travel back down to Katherine for the long drive across to Broome. I hardly noticed the Kimberleys as we passed them on our right. It looked a bit rugged and dusty for me. The heat was quite intense as we made our way across the Victoria Highway and across the border to Kununurra WA then down the Great Northem Highway to Broome.

Broome is a beautiful, quaint-looking town with its own Chinatown. With a population of, at the time, 3,000 multiracial people, it boasts a rich heritage. Traditionally it was a pearling town in the late 1900’s, and was quite a boisterous town. Only the old pearling ships could be seen here. With its tropical timber buildings, Broome’s Chinatown reminded me of the tropics back in North Queensland. Plenty of Aboriginal children running and playing on the dusty main road.

At this stage I had run out of money and was pleasantly surprised, after visiting the post office, to find a money order for $100 from my brother Robert. My mother and grandfather had chipped in earlier as well. When we arrived the Kombi broke down and we had to push it into the nearest caravan park.

Battery trouble, I believe.

Cable beach was the jewel in the crown. Bright white sand and crystal blue water. Some people were camped in the sandhills路up from the beach. I imagine it would have been hard to pitch a tent there.

I was having an unreal spiritual experience here. I felt I knew everyone without actually speaking to them. People would parade naked along the beach, including myself, as if we had nothing to hide. Ah, well, when in Rome! The scenery was heavenly, straight out of a picture book.聽 Much beer was consumed here, out of the carton or at the local where the jukebox got a good workout, as we’d shoot some pool and enjoy the festive spirit of the time.

I parked the van up from the beach in a grassy field-like enclosure, with showers, much welcomed, and barbecues, tents and other rather elaborate-looking vans.

Some were parked there waiting for “magic mushroom” season. I couldn’t, for the life of me, find where the office was. I took it to be free digs. There was a little shop towards the beach which sold grocery items. Later on I was thinking maybe this was where the office was. I wasn’t to know.

I met a lot of new friends here, each with a tale or two of his or her adventures.

The barbie was a bit hard to start, so I got the jerry-can out and dowsed the fire with petrol. Seconds later there were flames coming out of the top. Luckily a quick-thinking man put it out with a small fire extinguisher. I was grateful.

Unfortunately later on in the trip, when I needed some fuel, out came the jerry can with the extinguisher fuel in it. I wondered why I was having engine trouble further on down the coast.

This is not a good time to get philosophical, but back then I had a brain about the size of a pea. I let my soul do the talking, which was fine, since I couldn’t see the point in being pedantic about minor details. My music, as usual, was my companion, as I’d while away the hours doing just as I’d pleased.

I decided to go on the dole to help finance the rest of the journey. When the money ran out I would have to apply again in the next town, and so continued doing this until I could make some money another way. I’d get the old wooden whistle out sometimes, which I’d purchased in Cairns or somewhere, and make some rather interesting, light-hearted “music”.

I seemed to be driving a lot of people here and there, which I didn’t mind. At one stage of the trip I asked for money to cover petrol costs, which most were happy to oblige with. A lack of money could be seen as the major problem during the trip, but it’s amazing how generous people can be when you have nothing. You manage because you have to, there is no way around it. Lady Luck eventually shines her bright light and you are back on the road again.

Another beer, another smoke, and petrol for the tank.

I don’t know how long I spent in Broome, but it was a decent time. About twenty of us were gathered around a bonfire one night, to have a chat amongst other things. If this was the hippy lifestyle I liked it. We all have the hippy-traveller spirit within us, it just has to be released and realised. I met some wonderful people here, a credit to the human race. Love and peace really prospered here.

A girl suggested we paint flowers on the van, but it never eventuated, unfortunately.

My bed was anybody’s bed, it seemed. I only wish I had taken two pillows, and the opened-up sleeping bag wasn’t too good on cold nights. But we managed.

You don’t worry too much about聽minor聽details聽when聽you are free.聽 Things聽just sort of fell into place, as I put my faith in the God of Love. Religion聽wasn’t discussed much on this trip – we all just seemed to click.聽 Like-minded聽people, you might say. Most young people are similar, I guess. All prone聽to the same simple pleasures which we can all enjoy. On the flipside, other people who have聽had similar experiences might like to share them. The world is your oyster.

Well, after many pleasant weeks here, it was time to continue on south. I had sold the frig to a guy for $50. We both came out smiling. It was useless to me.

There was a guy riding a pushbike down the highway. We asked if he wanted a lift, but he declined. People in those days would travel in or on just about any颅 thing they could find. It made the trip more interesting. One van I saw looked like the back of a house, wooden, of course. And there was always guitar around the campfire to lighten our souls.

With memories of tropical north Queensland still in my mind, a few of us hit the track again, down the Great Northern Highway. The gods were with us on this journey. I felt so close to them, almost god-like.

Port Hedland was our next stop. I don’t recall much of this town, only that it was industrial, and I didn’t want to spend much time here. As we were making our way further down the coast, the climate and the vegetation were changing. It was still pleasantly warm though.

Onward through Karratha and then to Carnarvan. There was a different feel about Western Australia. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Quite pleasant though.

Another guy and I got some work on a banana plantation, cleaning out the bunkers. There were scorpions everywhere, like my star sign. We must have been blessed, neither of us got bitten. It didn’t pay well – enough for a meal each, and that was about all. Well I needed money fast, so I sold some of the contents of the van to an op shop – money for smokes and a bit of petrol and any food we could muster.

Geraldton was next. I was on my own again and missing my friends. I was sitting having a smoke when someone approached me, asking if I’d give him a tow. He had a kombi as well. I said OK so we made our way to where his Kombi was parked. I towed him to a service station without a hitch and he was most appreciative.

Geraldton was quite nice. I noticed the beaches were different here – more rocky headlands and always windy. The hippy spirit was still with me. I met lots of young people like myself, all having a good time, enjoying what life has to offer.

Well I was anxious to see Perth, the most isolated city in the world. Down the Brand highway it was as expected. Your typical city on the Swan River. I found it a bit confusing on the freeway coming in, roads leading everywhere. Kings Park was quite spectacular. A proud city and a proud state, almost cut off from the rest of Australia. We were known as the Eastern Staters.

With a proud tradition of Aussie Rules football, rugby was also played, but on a much smaller scale. I was to return to Perth to live soon after arriving back in Sydney, to hopefully start a new life, but that’s another story.

Perth was a much smaller city than Sydney, and I was feeling like I wanted to go back up north to the wide-open spaces and warmer weather. Cities do that to you. All congested, noisy and dirty.聽I didn’t want to spend much time here but wanted to see what southern WA had to offer.

I guess at this stage I was looking forward to getting home. My journey, it seemed, was nearing its end. There was much more to see and experience though. Fremantle appeared quite colonial-looking to me, with a lot of white buildings everywhere.

Quite an interesting feel about the place. The “Fremantle Doctor”, as it was known, would cool things down in Perth on hot summer days, a welcome relief for cricketers and spectators at the WACA ground.

Through Kwinana, Rockingham and Mandurah, then on to Bunbury. Margaret River was the next stop, a real hippy town. I drove through feeling fine and enjoying the solitude. I drove around a bit, then headed south-east toward Albany. I arrived at the “ups,” Manjimup, Karinyup and other townS ending in “up”. The Kauri forests here were fantastic. Driving through, the forest was so tall. You could get lost here as you wound your way through endless straight tree monoliths.

Well, after arriving in Albany, and after a few beers, it was time to say good-bye to the Kombi. She had been such a faithful servant throughout the journey, but she had developed聽 a bit of engine trouble, no doubt due to the fire extinguisher fluid in the jerrycan. Looking back, I wish I’d kept her, but I needed cash fast to get me home. I traded her for a Torana 1971 model and $600 cash. This would get me back across the Nullarbor and back home.

The Torana went quite well. It was much different, being so close to the road again, and she handled the conditions well. Again, the simplicity of the vehicle suited my taste.

Through Esperance, a beautiful seaside town. The weather was naturally quite cooler here, as I had my mind set on getting home. I was on the last leg of my journey of a lifetime.

I wanted to see Kalgoorlie, so up through Norseman I went, arriving to see red dust everywhere; red, red buildings and looking like a gold-mining town does, hot and dusty. I don’t know if there was much gold there. I never saw any.

The last leg of my trip was about to begin – across the Nullarbor. Dead straight road for kilometre after kilometre.聽 The landscape wasn’t that exciting either.聽 Small bushes and trees for miles. The road was of quite a good standard though, as I drove for hours, anxious to get home. Still being 20, I wanted to get home for my 21st. Lady Luck would shine on me again. Roadhouses along the route were a welcome relief for petrol, snacks and smokes of course. I had to park in these places overnight, as there was nowhere else to go.

Coming to the Great Australian Bight, I peered over the edge, but not too close.

It was interesting to see how far above sea-level we were. Through Ceduna and Streaky Bay it became a race to get home. The little money I had did me to Sydney, but I knew I would have to get a job soon after getting back.

The hippy-traveller spirit was firmly entrenched in me. So many good memories flowing through my head. I could sense the finishing line now. It wouldn’t be long till I was “home sweet home” in suburban Sydney.聽聽

Coming into Adelaide via the Adelaide Hills, I observed the neat, manicured lawns and gardens of Adelaide, and travelled along the Torrens River, walking through the city but finding not much affinity here. A neat, clean and modem city – it was just a city to me. Rundle Mall, however, proved quite a trendy spot at night. I had a couple here.

As you can see, most of my spirituality happened up north. For this reason my memories are like gold to me. Thirty years after and my memories are still intact. This was the best experience I ever had, and will stay with me until the day I depart this world.

It was naturally much cooler down here, as I was expecting similar weather in Sydney. After driving the Kombi continuously聽for about five to six months, I had developed a bit of a stoop and rounded shoulders. I was battling to get home for my 21st birthday聽so I drove continuously for long stretches. 聽The Torana handled the long drive well, and was to serve me for months after I got home.

Up through Victoria and I was home – two days before my 21st. I rang the doorbell and Dad, hardly recognising me with my straggly beard and long hair, let me in.

Well, what a journey it had been – a spiritual journey I would never forget. Slipping back into “normal” living was hard, as I recounted my journey thousands of times in my soul. It was good, though, to be back home, sitting at a table and sleeping in a bed.

All in all I had been away about seven months and was a changed man after that. I was to get work soon after getting home, and this replenished my bank account. The Torana was faithful for a while, but ended up as spare parts, as the engine must have seized.

I was to go back to Perth some months later, with the idea of getting a job and settling down, but for the purposes of this book, will have to be left alone.

Seeing the family and renewing my friendships was great, and boys’ nights out would never be the same again.

I did revisit Cairns and Byron some years later, but couldn’t quite recapture the same spirit as originally.

At the time of writing I am forty-nine years of age, living in a Department of Housing unit in Pennant Hills, Sydney, after receiving a head injury while working in a factory at twenty-six.聽 As a result I developed schizophrenia, for which I am medicated.

I am thankful for all the wonderful people I met along the way, and that I had experienced my own Heaven in all its forms. Thanks to the good Lord for looking after me, and thanks to my family and friends for making it all possible. Might see you on the road some time…

Cheers, Gordy.