Day 268
It felt as if we were traveling in Thailand again. Miles and miles of sugar cane fields, tropical palm trees here and there amongst other subtropical vegetation. How sweet was the smell of sugar factories! Maybe it was that blend of organic grassy raw sweet fragrance that made us hungrier than usual. We were told by some locals that they also burn the sugar cane fields before they harvest, so the downside of the sweet smell was black ashes floating in the air.
A local fish shop put down advertisement boards for seafood along the road. As we were going at a much slower pace than the traffic, the effect was much more pronounced. Before long, all I could think of was some fatty salmon for dinner. Chopper was more than happy to oblige when I told him my dinner plan – pan seared salmon with soy sauce, over fried vegetables with garlic and brown rice mixed with sesame oil.
The salmon was the perfect motivation to get us quickly into Ayr. We chose a caravan park in hope to take advantage of the camp kitchen, and quickly showered and got ready for cooking. However the kitchen was occupied by young backpackers and their dirty dishes. Some were laying across the benches in front of the tables, others sitting on top. I made room by cleaning the table, and they only moved to avoid the debris and filth falling off the table. Dancing around to avoid garbage piles and grease spots, we managed to cook up the meal with disco music blasting in the background. I’ve been thinking about doing some farm work through the working holiday visa, but I have to wonder how I would fit in with a bunch of young, party hardy backpackers.
We took our food to another sitting area hoping to eat in peace, but only to find ourselves squeezed in among a small group of large caravaners. Often we are in between and wonder where the all the people our age are. Probably working. We received the normal long winded cautionary advice followed by a tiresome monologue about where the they would vacation in the states, how they would travel, how long in each place the would stay and the names of the various hotels they would stay at. We were warned that the Burdekin Bridge south of Ary would be a death trap. It would be a long bridge with a steep incline and zero shoulder, cars would be going 100km and not slow down for pushbikes. Can’t wait to see if any of these warnings would be true.
