The Pipe

Trip Start Sep 09, 2004
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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Day Eighteen: - Port Augusta - Whyalla - Cowell - Port Lincoln

If it wasn't for the miserable weather Port Lincoln would be a cracker chillout point. It's clearly a tourist hot spot, we just happen to be here at the wrong time. It seems the weather in these parts isn't too great in the winter, though the prices for budget accommodation clearly are.

We pulled up at the 'Port Lincoln Foreshore Holiday Park' around 4pm. It took me a minute or two to form a standing up shape. Today was long and hard. I can't tell you how much, and I can't believe how many hours you can travel in this great brown land and barely make a dint (that even a word?) on the map - so intimidating, so amazing. The park itself is in a perfect position, looking out over Boston Bay which is serenely pitched, a bit like the Bay of Islands in New Zealand. We stood for a few moments cooing over the view but the heavy grey blanket was approaching fast. This wasn't the time. We'd got a tent to set up. With a deep breath I took off my helmet and the cold hit me like a limp slap. Sarah was bright and chirpy, probably still glowing from the tingling heat of the car's interior, and whistling some of the tunes she'd obviously been enjoying over the last few hundred kilometres. I imagined for a moment what that might be like. Bitch. Yes I did choose to do it by bike, but it's nice to dream now and again.

Inside the office we made our enquiries. $20 something for a smelly pitch of grass. Sarah enquired how much a 'cabin' might be. It was $47 (for electricity, a warm bed, a cooker, a 'working' heater, a television, a fridge, a table to sit at and curtains to close. Both her and the woman looked at me with waiting eyes. Naturally, I gave not the merest breath of objection. We took it. F**k it.



So here we are in Port Lincoln, the southernmost tip of the Eyre Peninsula, and a haven of joy for the lovers of great fishing, great getaways and great whites. Yes, that's great white sharks. They're in abundance here and weave about these southern waters in startling numbers. Cage diving is very 'do-able' in Port Lincoln and quite popular too it seems. We met an American guy in Adelaide who flew in specifically to climb into an underwater cage holding a few chunky human steaks ('I had a ball down there!') so there's certainly a market for it, though at 10 metres/30 feet long you'd have to have some balls to go down there and antagonise them on their turf. Cage diving is something that's sat tentatively on my to-do list for some time, just not this time.

For now it's nice to relax in the luxury of modern convenience, something that right now I'm so so grateful for. I'm chilled to the core, exhausted beyond measure and my ankle's starting to bitch again, probably after not letting up all day. We've covered some sobering distance through some harsh weather and I just hope it doesn't make me pay..

Kilometres eaten: 1898
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