Out Back in the Outback

Yeeah, still on the travels.  Seems like I haven't been home in a while, but then again, seems like everywhere I go is home, and Roebourne is definitely anotherhome, whereverhome, whateverhome-boyy.  A lot of events have occurred in the past couple of days, and I want to put everything down, but that would be quite near impossible.  But I'm here, as comfortable as can be, at Andrew and Sharmila's home in Roebourne, Western Australia.  And yeah, Andrew and I were chillin in the backyard earlier, and I was like this is the life for sure, out back in the outback, with good people, good food, good feelings.  Thanks Andrew and Sharmila.  I really feel back in the element, and you know this, I'm feeling the land.I am in Western Australia, the state that is my destination, just a couple hours drive south of my specific destination within WA, Broome, where the pearl farms are.  Yesterday, I visited Cossack, where the first pearl farms were established in 1864, and where I definitely saw my first croc in the little inlet there.  That foo saw me and dipped under into the muddy soup.  Gnarly, and the skeptics shall know that me and that foo met eyes before he descended.  The crocodile I saw at Cossack shall heretofore be called That Foo.  That Foo better not bite me when I'm diving and shit.  Watch your tail, Mr. Foo.

That's not a croc, it's a crazy floating beetle.  Less harmful yeah.  Floating around a bit, it took a while for me to get up here, finally to Roebourne, but I found some of the best and warmest solace from my backpacker's solitude my second and last night in Perth, when I was mumbling in front of an ATM in central Perth getting money out for a deposit on a room at the Aberdeen Lodge.  My prepaid Telstra mobile rang, and it was Sharmila's mum, on whose machine I left a couple messages earlier.  She was super coo and said, "Would you like a free bed?"  Woooooooooooo!  And I had the most super comfortable, hospitable dinner and conversations and best sleep in a while, not worrying about weird dudes staring through the dark or waking up to find my backpack replaced with a bag of roo-shit.  Soooo nice.  Great grate-ful-ness, for sure.

Then I rolled out on the Greyhound Australia for a 24 hour ride up from Perth to Roebourne.  Awww, the characters on this bus!  A chapped lipped writer who was going to pick fruit on a whim, an old retired French lady who still had to work to pay for the 7 homes she had all around the world, a country teenager who was blacklisted for driving drunk on the highways- "The speed.  That's what I live for- the speed and the bush."  We watched Dude Where's My Car on the bus DVD together.  Annnd theeennn  

Yeah, good times.  Here's a pic of the bugger that crossed the Nullarbor, across the continent from Sydney to Perth.  It's called the Indian Pacific Railroad, and it's one of the longest in the hemisphere.  I saw it roll in before I left for Roebourne.

 

 These travellers, these beasts, these flying wonders.  Now, I'm immersed in the land, red, like this face of movement.  Finally.  I want to learn more about the land.  Then on to the ocean.  As of now, though, beside the rocks, where spirits are good.  Later.