Shabadoo and wifelette down under

Having travelled for four months now, there are some hints and tips we can pass on about various subjects, perhaps to help the unwary and inexperienced traveller:

1. If you choose to buy a car from Travellers Autobarn, you are a moron. No one will ever love you, and you will die broken and alone. Probably in the middle of nowhere, with a hissing noise coming from under the bonnet, and an outback mechanic groping fro your credit card.

1. You’re mobile phone will be an expensive alarm clock, and nothing else. Australian mobile phone coverage usually extends from the geographical centre point of the major city you are in (Sydney, Melbourne, Perth, etc.) for approximately 10 metres in every direction. Whilst Australia has the smallest ratio of people to area in the world, these 10 metre zones around the mobile towers have the highest concentration of people anywhere on earth. And all of them are crying. If your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, you must (a) drop trousers to ankle position, (b) place pursed lips on own rear end, and (c) return trousers to original position.

1. Despite what every other traveller and every single resident of Australia may have you believe, food is not cheap here. It is expensive. You may tot up what you are spending all the way around the store, but once you reach the checkout, for some reason, it will always be at least $30 more that you thought it would be. This is especially true of city centres and anywhere outside of the suburbs of major cities. If you want to buy alcohol in addition to food, be prepared to sell body parts to wealthy donor patients.

1. Your tent will always contain the sage advice “Do not pack away wet, as this will reduce the life of your tent.” No matter where you are, no matter what the weather has been like, no matter how dry the desert, how damp the marshland, your tent will be saturated when you wake up. Every morning. Without fail. You will need to leave the campsite by 10am. Despite the fact that in some places the sun will be igniting the hairs on your arms by 8am, your tent will remain the dampest thing in the universe. You will pack it wet. And you will get soaked doing it. And when you unpack it, mildew will float from that tent like a fog of pungent misery.

1. Seriously, don’t ever buy a car from Travellers Autobarn.

1. The shower head in the cubicle you choose will always be the one designed for a midget. The other cubicles will always be busy, even if you are the only resident in the site. To wash any area above your ankles, you will need to crawl around on all fours. The floor outside the shower cubicle will be covered in mud, and the process of keeping your feet clean and dry, and getting them into socks and shoes would not be out of place in Charlie Chaplin’s finest work.

1. Whilst you are in the shower, some mysterious creature, probably not out of place in a Terry Gilliam movie, will visit the toilet opposite you. There will be the sound of trousers being unzipped, then a small coughing noise, possibly some sort of apology in an ancient, long-lost language. No matter how long the shower, no matter how loud you scream, that creature will then make the most deafening and horrendous series of grunting and groaning noises, as if it was trying to mate with the toilet, rather than fill it. Might I suggest a little more fibre in the diet, Australia?

1. Australia does get cold. The winter in the south of the country is a cool time to travel. If you’re planning on camping, you will need more clothing at night than during the day. A woolly hat is good, as are two pairs of socks. And the hot water bottle is priceless. Alternatively, earn a small fortune and stay in motels. You git.

1. If it reaches the point where the temperature is so low you have to sleep in the car, keep in mind that an airbed will not fit in that car. And that whilst a Ford Falcon will allow a 6ft 3in man to stretch out full length, it will not be comfortable on the hips. Indeed, after a couple of night, your hips will feel like nails trying to push their way out of your waistline.

1. Travellers Autobarn suck. Do not trust these bastards.

1. Most campsites advertise camp kitchens. To me, a camp kitchen contains a cooker, microwave, kettle and fridge/freezer (this last part is crucial for those travelling with Eskis). To some campsite owners, none of these things really constitute a camp kitchen. To some of these people, a camp kitchen is an empty room with the words ‘Camp Kitchen’ printed on the door. Do ask a few choice questions about the kitchen if you really need one.

1. If you come from the northern hemisphere, the mosquitoes will love you. Everyone who lives in Australia is well done – they’ve spent years being crisped by the sun, and are dried out and crusty. You, my foolish friend, are rare. Very rare. Bloody. You are to a mozzie what beer and a footie game are to an Australian male – irresistible. And your hands, arms and legs will swell up with each and every bite. And those bites really love a good scratch. Those bites are to your fingernails what beer and a footie game are to an Australian male – irresistible.

1. The big spiders look scary but aren’t dangerous. These are called Huntsmen. Their bite can be painful (so I’ve been told), but the only problem you are likely to have with them is that the biggest ones are so big, they can beat you up and steal your car. It’s the billions if tiny spiders you can’t see that will mess you up bad.

1. Even if you’ve been wearing gloves, prolonged exposure to cowshit will leave a stink on your hands so bad, that you will scrub them red raw, and then eventually wash your hand in cheap cologne to get rid of the odour. And that still won’t be enough. Do you have any idea how bad it is sitting down to dinner when your hands smell like a cow’s arse?

1. If you’re sleeping in your car and getting in and out constantly before you go to sleep, eventually you are going to screw up your central locking. This is not good. Either sleep with the doors unlocked (not so smart with all your worldly possessions stacked on the front seats), or be prepared to lock the car with the keyhole in the boot, then climb Dukes of Hazzard-style through the passenger window. If nothing else, this second approach will impress your wife with your flexibility.

1. If you pay attention to no other rant on this entry, for the love of God, DON’T BUY A DAMNED THING FROM TRAVELLERS AUTOBARN.