We struggled out of a perfectly good bed this morning. Begrudgingly preparing ourselves for another few hundred ks of nothing much. We were so greeted upon hitting the bitumen.
The Avon Downs Police Station sign gained our interest as the border would be where our Queensland border passes would come into their own. We could flash them proudly and be waved on with confidence we were not the infectious type.
Up ahead we saw the gathering of cars, vans, trucks and people. This was the border moment coming to fruition. Upon it, we realised that it was only the NT police checking travellers headed west. No one acknowledged us. No one looked up with a ‘not another Queenslander’ scowl. Disappointment rained upon us.
A few ks later we turned off to the right toward a massive water hole complete with water and brolgas. Pretty nice in fact. But not before Mr and Mrs Baboon in their Ford Ranger pulled out from a side road hauling a huge van straight in front of us. We slowed to accommodate this primate’s weakened intelligence and sat behind as he accelerated to 55 km/h in the 130 km/h zone. They turned at our turn off in front of us then proceeded on the lovely dirt road at 15km/h where 70 was an option. Not often Peter gets so peeved with other drivers he takes action. Today was different. This bloke needed a good solid dusting. He got one. Puma wound up, pulled out, overtook and covered the Baboon clan to a point where only a satellite could see them. Peter breathed a job well done sigh.
We set up camp, looked at the brolgas, and ate a home-made bacon and egg sandwich for lunch, before excelling at doing nothing. We reckon with practice we are getting better at this.