Allan Roberts - The Hard Way Home

Mongolia to Indonesia: 171 Days

DILI TO DARWIN

My aim was to ride the bike the whole way from London and never fly. I succeeded, but ironically, it was The Mothership that took a plane ride (from Ulaanbaatar to Bangkok) while I crossed China and Laos on the 150cc Sunik. Fittingly, I would arrive in Darwin on the Kathryn Bay, with my trusty steed stowed underneath.

But I was still anchored about one kilometre off-shore. I could see Darwin but couldnt touch home soil for another 24 hours. The trip from Dili was quite rough, so I didnt sleep well as the huge ship rocked in the waves. But now in Darwin Harbour, the seas were calm, although there was still plenty of rain.

After waiting a while, I could not wait to get off the boat and start my ride back home. I knew it would be so enjoyable, with no more ferries, borders and bullshit. It had been about five years and 40 days since Id left Australia and had never been back since. An impulsive decision to join a mate for a while in Thailand turned into a life and job in the UK for two-and-a-half years and then riding across Europe, Asia, the Middle East and Asia. And soon Id be home after 100,000 kilometres, three continents and 59 countries and another 24 hours on the boat stranded in Darwin harbour.

But the delay did give me time to reflect. I wondered if Id changed. I didnt feel that I had, but people do grow and things do alter.

AUSTRALIA

Finally, the Kathryn Bay docked.

It only took about 30 minutes to complete all the paperwork for me to enter Australia, but I still had to deal with Customs and Quarantine about The Mothership. In the meantime, I visited some mates and did things I hadnt done for over five years. These included getting Aussie dollars from an ATM machine, going to a drive-thru bottle shop, and spreading Vegemite on my toast. Darwin was quiet, almost empty, with virtually no traffic. It was just a welcome relief.

I confirmed my arrival date back at the farm for 28 February, in four weeks. But I was soon already four days behind schedule and about AUS$1200 lighter in the pocket. Getting my bike into Australia was a lot harder and more expensive than I thought. First of all, I had to pay AUS$96 for someone from Quarantine to inspect my bike, which took 10 minutes, but it got through, which was a huge relief. Second, I had to fork out a whopping AUS$435 for GST (Goods & Services Tax) to import my bike, which I had already bought and owned. Third, there was the AUS$550 I had to pay for shipping the bike from Dili. (Penelope from Perkins Shipping said the company would pay, but I decided not to ring and ask. I was simply very grateful for even being allowed on the ship.) And finally, there was the cost of AUS$55 to get import approval for The Mothership. Adding insult to injury were the wasted days.

Id now spent the equivalent of one-and-a-half months budget just getting my bike from Dili to Darwin. I felt so disappointed, and many of the positive vibes about being back in Australia disappeared. I also felt insignificant. I certainly was not expecting a heros welcome in Darwin, but on the road in Africa and Asia I met so many interesting travellers whom I swapped stories with. Suddenly, I was just another Aussie.

I also felt sort of lonely in a strange way. I watched people drive to work or walk along the footpath. Nobody was smiling. They all looked like robots, towing the line. Very soon, I was missing the craziness of Africa and the people of Asia, who laughed and didnt take life as seriously as my fellow Australians. But I probably wouldnt miss setting up the tent, checking oil levels, crossing borders and dodging crazy drivers on shocking roads.

My mood was not improved by the horrific cough I now had or by the thoughts of ending up in a dead-end job and certainly not by the high cost of living in Australia. Often in Africa and Asia, fuel, food and accommodation combined would cost about AUS$20 a day, yet I spent that amount on a SIM card for my mobile phone, which was soon eaten up after a few calls and text messages.

Before leaving Darwin, I did two more things. I spent another AUS$250 to get a commercial dive medical, the first step towards obtaining a diving job, and I was interviewed for an hour on the local ABC Radio about my travels (which I always enjoyed talking about).

After a week in the Northern Territory capital, my first day riding into the Australian countryside was a long 880 kilometres straight down the Stuart Highway. It rained on and off but enough to soak me through. The rain also meant that several parts of the road were underwater and some cars were even stranded. It felt good riding through 30 centimetre-deep water knowing there was a safe tarmac surface beneath. I pitched my tent at the Banka Banka camping ground but couldnt sleep much because of the millions of mozzies, the heat and my cough.

The next morning, Id had enough and set out off at 5am. As I stopped at the amazing rock formations at the Devils Marbles, I immediately discovered something else Id forgotten about Australia: the swarms of flies in the outback. Reaching Alice Springs by lunchtime, my first stop was a chemist. I needed tablets to kill this cough before it killed me.

I rode down to Erldunda, the turn off to Ayers Rock, where I met another mate, Al, whom Id worked with in the UK. Hed driven up from Adelaide in his 4WD. After resting for a while in an air-conditioned roadhouse, we camped at a place where the flies were just as bad as every other time I stopped. Thankfully, they disappeared after sunset as we enjoyed a barbecue dinner. For the next few days, Al and I looped around the McDonnell Ranges (skipping Uluru/Ayers Rock, which Id visited before) and headed back to the Alice via the Kings Canyon and some remote waterholes. Id travelled around this area as a 16-year-old with my dad. Of the few places I still remembered, nothing much had changed. Somewhere along the way, I created another milestone: I hit the 100,000-kilometre mark.

I bought some knobbly tyres for our next leg across the dirt roads down to Finke and beyond, along the Oodnadatta Track. Travelling along the Finke Track also gave me a chance to check out the conditions because I hoped to participate in a race there, hopefully with some sponsorship. At Finke, we gave out lollies to some Aboriginal kids, which reminded me of being back in Africa. We continued along more great roads through some more amazing Australian countryside.

Id often dreamt of the peaceful Australian desert and its straight roads while riding through places like Indonesia, with its insane traffic and tooting horns. In no time, we made it to Dalhousie Springs, an amazing oasis. We had a refreshing swim, but again, our enjoyment was spoilt by the swarms of bloody flies. Our next stop was Oodnadatta, with lunch at the Pink Roadhouse, and then on to William Creek, where we camped.

In some ways, I now felt I was just going through the motions. But I was really happy to ride through this part of Australia, along dirt tracks in the desert rather than using the boring highway, and it was great catching up with Al.

As we rode further into South Australia to Port Augusta, it felt strange seeing familiar sights. I wasnt sure what to think or how to feel. I felt sort of removed from normal society. All I could talk about now was my travels. I didnt know about anything else. Perhaps I would feel somehow distant when talking with old friends. Before the trip, I used to be the life of the party, but I knew it would take time to adjust and find my feet again return to a normal life.

Al and I continued south to Adelaide, where I had a few days to kill before arriving at the farm on Sunday, 28 February, when a barbeque and party with family and friends had been organised by my sister. With only 400 kilometres to go, it seemed such an anti-climax to wait around at Adelaide, a city Id lived in before (and would live in again).