YEPOON TO AIRLIE

Not an hour out of Yeppoon we're stopped at a service station, which here in Australia invariably means deep fired goods aplenty! Deep dried corn-dogs, hash browns, chips, sausages, prawns, schnitzels... pretty much, if you can die from it - they've got it!

We're not here for the fried delights however, ow no! Vanny has started making a rather disconcerting sound. So, Jaimie's at the wheel revving the engine, a friendly, fryer-loving stranger has got his head deep in it and I’m doing my very best to stay out of it and be helpful which consists mainly of staying out of the way, not reciting my own mechanical vocab (the extent of which is “fan-belt?”) and ensuring that at no time does the gentleman become aware that Jaimie is in-fact the sole driver of the vehicle for fear of being lynched in the Australian outback for crimes against Man-sim!

After a half-hour of greasy ponder, we are none the wiser. The van is however working, so we decide to take it steady to the next town and get her looked at there. The Town (Mackay) is not a town at all but a hellish metropolis in which the Toyota garage wouldn't be able to see us for two days! Not huge fans of hell we creep another 200k up the highway to Airlie Beach, gateway to the Whitsunday Islands ringing ahead to ensure we can be seen first thing the next morning, and seen we are! Three hours, two new front break pads, a flush and replenish of the all essential (here’s what it should look like and here's what yours looks like!) break fluids and 500 bucks later and we're on the road, none the wiser as to what exactly the initial sound (which by this stage had of-course completely ceased) was. Happy nonetheless that the breaks were sorted and Vanny is sounding sweet! Northward.

*Australia has a bizarre fascination with incredibly large edible items. I guess it's the only way to get the message across to the truckies that there's actually a product for sale, as any smaller item may be dismissed as just another wired hallucination.