You would have thought that after three months torture on an overland camping trip home to Australia from London via Calcutta – I would have known better. But no. After persuading my camping-averse bestie to come with me, optimistically off we set from Sydney on our picturesque sounding three week ‘Cobb & Co Adventure around Australia – all meals included’.
Our first disappointment was the very ordinary bus that greeted us. Scarily, it had only ever done express trips between Sydney and Melbourne. Even we noted that it sat very low on the road, which did not seem to be a good thing as this was 1970 and we had heard that outback roads, if they existed, left much to be desired. And not completely unexpected, but to our dismay – no loo.
We were eventually ushered on board as the sun sank slowly in the west. After many mishaps with our initial tent-erection efforts and we were finally sorted, the first blood-curdling screams shattered the silence. Yes, we were in the epicentre of the great Parkes’ mouse plague of 1970. Suddenly there were tiny, scuttling forms everywhere – in tents, in clothes, in hair. One had to keep one’s mouth shut. Ew! It was straight out of a horror movie. There was nothing to do but zip sleeping bag over head and wait until morning.
Arriving at Adelaide to pick up supplies allayed our fears a little. A false sense of security that turned out to be! Our food supply for the duration, appeared to be huge tins of food stacked high on the roof of the bus, and one, average-family-sized, esky for dairy. As the trip progressed we realised we would have been better off with the original Cobb & Co coach and horses, as the bus proceeded to break down thirteen times in the three weeks. Inevitably, of course, in the most inhospitable and isolated parts of the country.
Good weather, back to nature surroundings, getting to know travelling companions, singalongs round the campfire … all was looking good, so we thought. My negative girlfriend was even in the swing of things. Then, the first hiccup. Our only means of food preservation, the esky, ran out of ice – a rare commodity in the outback. Then the contents of the esky began to take on a life of their own. I swear the green-tinged bacon crawled out of the esky by itself. We quickly developed a taste for warm beer on cornflakes for breakfast. And to top things off, it began to rain, so all the labels fell off those large tins on the roof. Naturally, no-one had any idea of the contents after opening. so it could be beer on cereal, followed by beetroot, for breakfast, and peaches with bread (no butter) for dinner. The ‘odd’ pub meal was a very welcome reprieve for our stomachs.
Most excitement came from the bus breaking down yet again. Being low-slung, we hit every rock on the unpaved ‘highway’, starting just north of Adelaide! Our poor driver was responsible for absolutely everything, but luckily for him one of the group was an enterprising young lad who could do remarkable things with chewing gum and string. Between them we managed to limp into one of the highlights of the trip – Mt Isa – a godforsaken mining town even in this its hey-day. To our horror we were stranded here for five days as the offending bus part had to be flown in from Townsville. The group included twelve girls, who were feted (hounded?) by every miner in town. One plus was that we never had to buy ourselves a drink for the duration. In actual fact, we all felt like film stars! The difference between city girls and ‘bushies’ was accentuated, when I went for coffee with a local. Firstly, I waited for him to open the car door – as a lady did! And he thought I’d changed my mind. Next, he offered me a ciggie, and I sat there waiting for him to light it… That date didn’t go well.
We managed to get to Darwin with no-one eaten by a crocodile, which was quite on the cards in some of our riverside camping places in crocodile infested areas. A highlight of our washed-out camp in Alice Springs was when one sleeping group member, floated through on his mattress. The lowlight was drying soaked and smelly foam rubber bedding in the crowded bus. Next came the great Alice Springs moth plague disaster – involving, inadvertently mashing huge black moths between self and towel after showering in the dark. More Ew!
Somehow, we arrived back in Sydney. My best friend never went within cooee of a tent again, and I believe the poor driver had a complete breakdown!

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