The days in Oz wind down, but the adventure never ceases.
I navigate my way through a blaze of hot crackling flames and choking grey clouds, burning eyes, nose and throat through the thin gauze of my scarf tucked up into the opening of my helmet. The sun vanishes in the thick suffocating plume, and I told my breath and steer by the yellow lines on the ground at my right, emerging into the open sunlight minutes later to firefighters and police telling drivers to “drive slowly, roll up yours windows and turn on your AC”.
I see Australia through the lens of treetop canopies- some of the biggest in the world-, a magical tree-scape which has called to me since Professor Dodd shared this wonderland in a classroom thousands of miles away and so long ago.
Wheels fly across open sandy beaches, blue water glistens and beckons a plunge, submersing yourself into a wet turquoise world after the long and harsh days of the Nullarbor.
The days of Oz are now numbered, but mission Quokka must be seen through before this particular journey comes to close.