A typical my world walk day

A typical day. 

Our rest day in Eucla roadhouse was spent exploring sand dunes around the area. Thanks to Rasa, the roadhouse manager for providing me and Michael with two nights in their motel. We also walked to the coast, which is called the Australian Deep Bight. One man told me that technically it's the Southern Ocean, an ocean which has escaped my knowing until now. It's where the Indian and South Pacific Oceans merge.
Back on the road we crossed to South Australia state. At the state line strict quarantine laws are enforced to prevent the spread of fruit flies which can destroy an entire industry. As a result heavy fines are enforced for talking fruit across state lines. Many people just dump huge quantities of fruit out onto the road, a pity they couldn't leave them for someone at one of the many rest/picnic areas dotted along the highway. These rest areas are rarely more than ten to fifteen kilometers apart. Most evenings we camp at one as Michael has a terrific guide book which tells us their locations. That way we can plan most of our stops. Usually, Michael stays behind me in the morning and catches up about two or three hours later. In that time he packs up our tents, boils water for my thermos and does some of his own work on his laptop. Sometimes he reads a book which can then be exchanged for another one in the roadhouses. When he catches up with me I could have as many as fifteen kilometers walked. Then I usually stop for breakfast. He will do his own thing for an hour as he enjoys walking into the fields and looking around at old fossils and observing bird life. I prefer him to crew from the back rather than me walk to him. That way if I have any major problems I can just wait for him rather than walking on. After about two or three more stops in which I should have about 25 kilometers walked I stop for lunch. Most days I have noodles which are cooked from the hot water from my thermos. In between I snack on candy, biscuits or something else as our car has no food shortage due to our massive food shop we made before the start in Perth. Yes, I think I overdid that, too much food, a first world problem indeed. After lunch depending on where the next decent picnic site is Michael will either stay behind for another couple of hourly passes or go on ahead. The weather has been comfortable, so that is never an issue. Sometimes near the end of the day I ask him to go on ahead (by as much as ten kilometers) and find a camping place in a rest area or wherever. That's a typical day, but it can vary. There have been many days when I finish in darkness but as traffic is light and I am well lit up I feel safe. Michael usually waits for me to arrive before we pitch our pop up tents. Every day is different and my daily distances depending upon how I feel, where the good camping places are. Or even how many days  I decide to walk to the next roadhouse in.
When I arrive at our campsite we take turns cooking dinner which almost always consists of pasta packaged meals. Well, Michael cooks most nights. Our biggest daily decision is if we will mix our pasta meal with a can of beans, spaghetti or corn. The latter usually wins, occasionally its canned beetroot or even chicken breast chunks. There were many nights when we retired to our tents at seven pm, other nights I drink copious amounts of peppermint tea while we listen to music from my iPhone music app. Those nights when we burn the candle at both ends its still only eight thirty!
Many nights I awaken and think it must be almost time to get up only to discover it's still only about 11pm or midnight, for the nights are so long. Despite all this I still find it difficult to get up each morning. We set the alarm clock for 6:30 but I usually snooze for an hour and break camp with a handful of snacks and a cup of lukewarm coffee made from the leftover water from my two litre thermos.

At the South Australia border we were stopped by Timmy, a bricklayer who is originally from county Cork in Ireland. So we went into the Border roadhouse for a memorable chat. That night Michael and I camped at the top of cliffs overlooking the ocean. We chatted to some so called grey nomads who traverse the country in their RVs. These senior citizens like to escape from the 'cold climate' in the cooler months for a few months on the road. Michael jokes that there is a caste system in Australia; as those in the top end motor homes  or plush caravans with expensive SUV's pulling them are at the top of the ladder. Below them are those who sleep in their camper vans. We, in our tents are the bottom of the social barrel, the scum of the road!
Next day I walked through 15,000 kilometres and thanked Michael for preparing a special sign to commentate it. That 'milestone' took fifteen months and ten days. For those that like comparative statistics that was only a few days slower than when I ran my 15,000th on the world run. On that global run I did take more rest days when I ran my 15,000th on the world run. On that global run I did take more rest days.  

The ever-changing scenery on the Nullarbor continued to impress me with what seemed to be a never ending array of strange and unknown shrubs, plants, trees and the occasional flower. One day a dingo walked across the road in front of me and then into a field, way beyond the limits of my zoom lens. By now kangaroos were a thing of the past and thankfully I saw few skeletal remains. That 12 hour, minimal-stop day my feet of dreams walked 48 kilometres. I followed that up the next day when I walked feeling like a king of the road and saluted 50 kilometre post soldiers who stood to attention precisely 1,000 metres apart.
Then I arrived at the Nullarbor roadhouse and noted that the so-called treeless area which the whole plain is name after is in fact just an area of thirty kilometres around the roadhouse.