The second phase of my journey up the east coat of Australia was actually really relaxing and nice. I met up with friends and family all over the Gold Coast and Brisbane and it felt like a proper holiday after all the chaotic weather of the south. I caught up with my uncles/aunts on both sides of the family, saw cousins I hadn’t seen since primary school and friends who I had been gaming with for years, but never met in person. I even randomly ran into a friend from Melbourne who I hadn’t seen in ten years, coincidentally playing a gig at the pub I was getting dinner at!

I finally felt like I was starting to thaw out and unwind. And also, sleeping in a bed, that was great after camping for months. Travelling by motorcycle really makes you appreciate the little things in life, turning a tap for water, being able to lay down somewhere without setting up camp, cooking food etc. It’s a really good way to make sure you appreciate the small things in life that you take for granted.

I really meandered after leaving the south, just stopping at National Parks, hiking, seeing where the wind took me. And avoiding the storms when they came. It felt really relaxing and freeing to just hear from other travellers about a nice place or a beautiful waterfall and heading towards it. Away from the coast, camping was easy, there were so many free sites and when I occasionally paid in a National Park, it was only $9 which was quite reasonable for some of the beautiful locations.

I had my first stack too, dropping the bike at low speed in the mud. The rear tyre I chose was chosen for longevity, because I wasn’t expecting too much mud and knew I’d be on main roads for most of it. But I journeyed out into the mountains to see a waterfall and it rained overnight. I walked to the waterfall in the morning and then headed back and packed up. When I got back to the main road, it was under roadworks and the mud was inches thick and stuck to the tyres, clogging up everything. I must have dropped the bike half a dozen times and eventually the left Mosko pannier mounting broke.  I managed to patch it up with some straps and get through the mud to the nearest town.

This is where hospitality comes in. I asked the lady at the camp-ground if she knew anyone in town who was mechanically handy. She immediately called her retired husband and told him she was sending a motorbike rider around, “a nice young chap, with long hair.” I rode over there and met her husband, a retired trucker who had a small workshop. Together we made up a bracket to reinforce the damaged parts and then chatted into the evening. It was one of those random, wholesome moments that help you believe that the world is a good place. To add to the good experience, I contacted Mosko about the damaged bracket and they express posted the replacement parts out to me for half price. It is totally worth buying good quality parts! I replaced the broken mount and kept the old damaged/repaired one in case I manage to break another one (which hasn’t happened yet, 6 months later).

Overall, I just kept drifting my way north, towards the Cape, and the Telegraph track, a challenge I had been working towards for years, which I was both excited for and worried about!