We drive on to Coffs Harbour. We set up camp just a few metres from a rather lively surfer beach. It rains almost non-stop for the entire first day. Shopping, working, killing time. Nothing happens, and my friends spend the 6th day of a few in Australia in constant rain. I still have 10,000 kilometres of desert ahead of me, so I take it easy.

The next morning we have a massive problem naming the colour of the sky. Is it red? Or green? The hostel chief eventually says it’s blue. Usually a sign of good weather. Oi, oh, good weather? Good weather!!! (more…)

The most important part of my car: the windscreen wipers. There is no “interval”, only “fast” and “faster”. Signs call on us to save water. At the third one, we have a collective screaming fit. Then we drive on past flooded fields. The list of warnings on Australia’s official weather website gets longer and longer: cyclones, severe thunderstorms, flooding.

We continue northwards. We reach Port Macquire in the rain, one of Australia’s first three settlements. A hostel with internet, my services are in demand. I meet a couple of Israeli girls who I have met several times in New Zealand and Australia. Lord Peter fights with the prettier Ju-Jitsu. Day five in constant rain. (more…)

The hostel in Katoomba is very nice. A small fireplace, large kitchen, free internet and no cockroaches. Okay, a 10cm spider scares me off for a moment. Cook, work, sleep. In the morning we drive to the Three Sisters, a famous rock formation. There’s nothing to see. Apart from a lot of fog.

We drive on to the Jenolan Caves, one of the largest karst cave systems in the world, an hour away. It’s really big, which means you have to drive to the car park through the cave entrance. There are 15 different tours on offer, ranging from one to six hours. We take the short one into Lucas Cave. (more…)

The last two days were tough, but rewarding. After a day of sightseeing and finding my way around Sydney by car, the next day I take the underground to a distant suburb. That’s where the big car dealers are. I get an address from the local trading post. After an hour on the underground and in a taxi, I’m standing in front of the Sydney Car King.

One of Sydney’s biggest car dealers, according to its own information, it now has just 15 cars. They are all rubbish. Cheap, leaky, dripping, rattling. He only allows test drives in the yard. When I press hard on the accelerator in the fifth car to hear the engine, the King steams closer, snorting with rage, and I leave shortly afterwards without having achieved anything. (more…)

I think to myself, come on, don’t start a new country with lies. So I declare at customs: I have 425 cigarettes with me. With my mixture of convincing “playing the fool”, confusion and honest eyes, I get the customs officer to let me into Australia without penalty duty. Saves me a whopping €80.

The Monday after the Australian bank holidays is a postponed Sunday. Buses rarely run, many are cancelled. After a few trials and tribulations, I only arrive at the Palm Backpackers Hostel in Kings Cross at eight o’clock in the evening after three hours. There are 35 hostels and about as many brothels and massage parlours within a 500-metre radius. (more…)