PIEROAD'S NEW AUSTRALIAN CHAPTER OF THE WORLD WALK TRIP
In Lyndhurst I found a place to camp, a sort of park with clean bathrooms, electric barbecue and even a tennis court - the rackets are in the aluminum shack that serves as a kitchen. The tent overlooks the omnipresent eucalyptus trees that shield the playground from the noise of the road, the Mid Western Highway. The continent has changed since the last time, the names are now in English, have you noticed? After crossing Latin America from north to south it is time to turn the page. This chapter is written in red, the color of the desert that expands in the heart of this country. Do you understand where we are? The journey continues in the land of kangaroos ... Australia!
It's been almost three years since I left home with Ezio, my stroller, to walk around the world. Since then we've walked thousands of kilometers between Europe and South America, until the earth beneath our shoes was consumed by the ocean. A few days ago we arrived in Australia and after a technical stop in Sydney we set off looking west and at the setting sun. Objective: to cross the Outback, the infamous rust-colored desert that covers eighty percent of the country's surface.
Consider that Australia alone is almost as big as Europe. Its desert is immense and in size is second only to the Sahara. Five thousand kilometers and six months to cross it: the visa limit and the length of the winter season put a certain pressure on the walk. Unthinkable to walk it in summer, I wouldn't be able to carry enough water.
THE OUTBACK
To study it better and tackle it calmly, I divided the journey into three sections: from Sydney to Adelaide, westbound; then a ninety-degree angle and heading for Darwin, the northernmost point, with hundreds of kilometers of autonomy guaranteed by Ezio to reach the shores of the Indian Ocean. In the meantime, a fundamental passage in the center of the desert, the red center: the monolith of Uluru. It is a sacred mountain for the Australian Aborigines, perhaps the most important place in their songs. I met him years ago while I was working here and when I left I promised myself that I would return to see him. Seven years have passed since that promise. And now, finally, it is time to return.
Described like this, it seems easy. The distances between the Outback towns, however, are considerable. Between Adelaide and Uluru it will take up to five days between one refueling and the next and from Uluru to Darwin the distances will stretch to 300 km and more. In some cases I will spend eight or nine days without passing through any village. I will have to do the math with water and food and I will need plenty of protein and fat given what I will consume while walking. Some solutions are offered by dehydrated foods, expensive but efficient, while for fats for the moment I only have one idea in mind: blocks of butter. The temperatures should allow them to be carried and stored outside the refrigerator.
Logistics are a difficult challenge, but they are not the only ones. I will have to be careful of wild animals, especially scorpions and poisonous snakes such as the infamous brown snake, with a lethal bite. Setting up the tent, breaking camp and even going to the bathroom are actions that will require an extra eye. Since it is winter, the hours of light will be few, and in June and July they will drop to just ten. Considering that the walk lasts 8/9 hours, there will be little time to find a suitable place to camp and settle in before the lack of visibility makes it dangerous to venture off the road. Concentration will be high for several months, without real breaks to relax the nerves.
DESERT SETUP
Lyndhurst, day-8. The Manaslu 2 stands proudly on the English-style lawn while I write, crouched on an aluminum bench. This tent model has been with me since Peru, something like ten thousand kilometers ago. By now I know how to set it up with my eyes closed. Inside the tub lies a hotel room with no address. On the right, the self-inflating mattress is ready to receive me, high enough to separate my body from the ground even when I'm turned on my side; my hip bones never touch the floor. A bundle of clothes acts as a pillow while the sleeping bag is open, to get air. In the evening I wrap myself up in its soft, square shape because even though we're still in the countryside, the daily temperature range is considerable and the nights are cool. I know that in the desert I won't suffer from the cold, the sleeping bag is broken in by the Patagonian nights in the far south of Chile and Argentina. On the opposite side of the bed are breakfast - a mix of oats, cocoa and powdered milk - a headlamp and a backpack full of valuables, with diaries, phone and money.
Ezio sleeps outside, standing like a horse. I feel him heavier than I have ever felt before, yet he only carries about 15 kg between water and food. It must be the new pieces of equipment weighing on his belly and my arms. I think about it, what could it be? There is a solar charger bought especially for the desert, but it is in the tent with me. Snake bite kit? It weighs nothing. Repair kit? Always the same: three 16” and three 20” inner tubes, patches and glue for tires, foam for holes, a pump and those little plastic gadgets to pop the inner tube off the wheel. Nothing new for the kitchen either. A couple of 450-gram gas cylinders, a bottle of white gasoline found in the paint section of a megastore, relative kitchens, a pot and a folding screen.
Maybe it's the clothes? Eleven pairs of socks seem like a lot, but in the desert I'll have a hard time washing them and I prefer to change them every day given how much I walk - 40 km on average. Thanks to Ferrino I have a wardrobe for every eventuality. Technical shirt and light trousers for the heat, as soon as the sun starts to beat down I sew the ends to the knee and the shorts become long. It seems like a contradiction, but this way I'm protected from solar radiation, which in Australia is particularly aggressive. And then try sleeping without being able to remove the sticky film formed by sunscreen, dust and sweat from your skin! I can't shower every day! As soon as evening falls I put on a light jacket, while for the colder nights I have a pair of trousers and a heavy jacket that also serve as a waterproof suit. With five items I could go anywhere... And in fact I'm doing it. From the Atacama Desert to the southern tip of Patagonia, from sunny Sydney to the misty Blue Mountains, to the Outback and beyond with just two kilos of clothes. No, they are not responsible for your sore shoulders either.
A SMOKING MATE
I actually know the answer. The culprits are the grams, yes, the extra grams. An extra pair of socks, an extra inner tube that you never know in the desert, a water bottle that wasn't there before because it's better to be generous with water... It's easy to add weight, just like with a backpack. Ezio can carry up to fifty kilos and this makes me relax enough to put in something more than what is strictly necessary, I know. Besides, I carry everything with me, partly because you never know, partly because I think a trip around the world on foot will last five years and you can buy and leave pieces on the road every time the season changes. I put what I don't use on the lowest level of the stroller and I wall it up with what I use most frequently, with everyday objects and food on top and in front.
I stop to reflect while sipping a hot mate, a relic from Patagonia. It is also extra weight and the half kilo of yerba mate packed in the stroller. I smile. The mate, like few other things on this trip, is completely useless, but perhaps that is why it is one of the objects I love the most. I bring it with me because it reminds me of a wonderful time made of conversations behind wood-burning stoves and people who manage to take a break to savor the moment they are living. Drinking mate is like meditating, you live the here and now patiently celebrating the ritual that is being performed. Mate is beautiful… Because it is slow. This is the message I have grasped by walking for so long. Beautiful is slow.
I sigh, juggle the thermos thoughtfully and pour more hot water into the small yellow cup that serves as mate, letting the trickle fall along the metal tube as my friends in Chile taught me. I have a month to get to Adelaide and complete the first Australian stretch, the dress rehearsal for the Outback. When I get to the city I will still have a couple of hundred km before leaving the asphalt and venturing onto the Oodnadatta track towards the heart of the desert. Two months to go, two more to emerge and see who comes out of the mirror. There is time, I tell myself… Enjoy this mate and get back on the road.