Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER.
My best friend Cass and I have the same name. We met at university and have stayed super close throughout the following decade. Our friendship is a great positive thing in my life and I never take it for granted. It’s the type of friendship that calls bullshit on the need for conflict to bring you close together. We don’t need to be proud of surviving bad times, we’ve never really had any. Cass moved to Alice Springs a few years ago with her awesome partner and I had bounced around a few cities but finally settled in Melbourne. The last time we saw each other was in her hometown of Canberra for her amazing and magical wedding, in which I was a bridesmaid. It was one of those weddings that makes you understand that sometimes (not always) love should be celebrated. It had been nearly a year since that day and I was overdue for a visit.
I scoured the net for cheap flights for months, it took so long because I am a shift worker and lining up sale airfares with my rostered days off was a pain in the ass. Eventually I made it happen, it was a Wednesday through Friday when she would be working, so not perfect but it was doable. I messaged her and let her know about the deal because I knew her friend Tim was also keen for a visit, so I thought I would be helpful. It was six away so with the deal done I forgot about the upcoming holiday and went back to my life, happy it was on my agenda.
A few days out from my holiday and I began to think details, arrivals, transport, activities, you know, the usual holiday stuff. I messaged Cass to organise stuff. She was happy to hear from me but was a bit busy, Tim had also taken up flights and she was currently hosting him. They were going camping for the weekend before they drove to the Uluru airport. “Sweet. No worries, I’ll do some googling of stuff and I’ll call you later in the week :)” I was at work anyways and thought I should probably stop bludging. A couple of hours later a thought popped into my head. There’s an airport at Uluru? I didn’t know that. And that’s where Tim was flying out from? Didn’t he use the same airline as me? Oh shit, does that mean I”m not flying into Alice Springs? I check my email confirmation. No. No I wasn’t.
Ahhh shit. I message Cass the news. “Guess what douchebag, A.D.D thing I have done.” I immediately got a response, “lol classic Pow Pow” (My last name is Power, so this was the nickname she came up with to help others distinguish between us). It was pretty typical of my blasé’ approach to organisation. Never mind though, she said, my arrival date was the same day as Tim’s departure so they would pick me up. Sweet, I thought and back to work I went.
Some hours later I start to think about it again. OK, so if I fly into the rock on a Wednesday afternoon and get into Alice that night then we hang out on Thursdayafter Cass’ work, I’ll have to spend all day Friday traveling to make my flight. Well that sucks that’s basically 6 fun hours with my friend? Nope. I was gonna have to change my flight.
OK. Think Cass, think. I found a bigger space later in the month and call up the airline to explain my mistake. Sure, you can change your flights, they said, it’s going to be the price difference of 80 dollars each way and a changing fee, $350 all up please. I gritted my teeth and paid. Sometimes it costs money to have this brain. Pay and move on.
And I did.
A couple of weeks later and the new travel dates were coming up. So google, google, google. No real transport options from the Rock to Alice. I opted for car hire. Fine, sorted, done. It was going to be expensive but doable and on the plus side I would see the famous rock. I was excited.
I finish my last shift at work at 6am and walked towards Melbourne’s Southern Cross station. Skybus. Check. Online check in. Check. Airport security. Check. Coffee. Check. Gate number check. Stay awake whilst I wait for flight. A few yawns but check. And I’m on the plane.
I sit next to a lovely British couple, retirees who entertain me with their recent world travels, I pretend I’m a pro of the outback, I help them with the time zones and tell them “you know we’re close when the earth turns red.” I’m in the aisle seat and about half an hour later the lovely British lady turns to me says, “Oh it’s turned red, it really is very red.” Hahaha. We arrive and I step off the plane, a super hot wave of air hits me. Oh yeah this shit is hooooot! I get inside, thank God and stand in line for what seems like hours while people in front of me arrange their car hires. I did not realise this was going to be so popular. Maybe I should have booked ahead. Finally it’s my turn, they have one car left. Oh thank God. The guy hands me the keys and the paperwork and says it’s the last car left on the block. It’s a fucking Barina. Not exactly what you think of when driving through the outback but it’s got air conditioning and I’m happy. I ask one hundred people for directions, “Oh you can’t miss it!” I hate this answer. I bet I can miss it and I have seen Wolf creek.
I drive out of the airport and turn left about five minutes down the road I pull over and check that I”m going in the right direction. I am sort of. If I keep going I’ll make it to Alice but I’ll miss the rock. Don’t be lazy Cass – turn around and go see Australia’s natural wonder of the world. So I do and it has to be seen to be believed. It’s too big to photograph but I take a few selfies. In every photo I’m swatting flies, squinting into the sun and I look like I’ve been awake for every second of the 24 hours that it’s been so far. Ok the rock, been there, done that. Check and move on. I drive for ages and ages and there are no signs. There’s one hundred signs telling tourists what side of the road to drive on, there are heaps of signs to little towns I’ve never heard of and highway’s that I have no idea where they’re headed,I’m starting to become skeptical that I’m on the right track. Eventually I see a small petrol station and pull up. It’s one of the smallest petrol stations with ridiculous prices that the hire company dude warned me not to use, but fuck it for the sake of an extra 30 bucks I’m not breaking down in the outback. It’s a great experience. I fill up, grab a couple of huge red bulls and head to the counter. The attendant is friendly, I’m about to confirm with him that I’m headed in the right direction but he does it for me, in a hilarious way, “Off to the big smoke then are you?” It takes me a few seconds to answer, is he pulling my leg? Am I being a Melbourne snob by thinking that’s a joke. Eventually I reply, “Do you mean Alice?” “Yeah.” He is deadly serious. “I am. And it’s that way is it?” I point in the direction I have been driving. “Sure is, have a good time!” I am so stoked to hear I’m on my way that I go outside, have a soothing cigarette in the dry ass heat, turn down an offer from elderly indigenous man to buy his artwork, (because I have no cash and their ATM isn’t working, not because it isn’t amazing or because I’m a Collingwood supporter and he has a Port Power Guernsey on), watch him get waved away by a tourist from a coach tour and jump back in my little hatchback. I start to relax. I’m confident enough now to chill and enjoy my surrounds. And it starts to get beautiful. All of a sudden gorges and red mountains surround me, and I am blown away by my country’s beauty. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation I don’t know but I begin to get a little but patriotic bordering on emotional, I see signs to Alice and Darwin and have a little daydream of how awesome it would be to keep on going, but I see my first 130 speed limit and I snap back to reality, I want to get there by 6:30pm. I want to watch a footy game with my friends. I put the pedal down and get back to business. I arrive at my destination at 6:20.
It’s hugs all around from my great mates, then footy time, then crash. The rest of the weekend goes pretty well to plan. My mates take me swimming at Ormiston Gorge, we have a dinner Vietnamese lunch with friends at a restaurant that is located on a paddock out of time, we watch great movies, we analyse politics and talk about our lives, we take the piss out of each other and finally I cook them dinner to say thank you and the trip is over. Too soon, but never underrated. I pack my bags and lie in my bed. It is silent and still. I can’t hear a thing and I cannot sleep. I’m tired but not sleepy, I’m frustrated and I flip from side to side. When 5amcomes around I’m frustrated. I’m driving back to the rock in an hour and I’m pissed that I have to do it in a sleep deprived state. But I have no choice, I get up, get dressed swing my back pack on, hug my Cass goodbye, because she is awesome and got up super early to make me coffee and send me off and jump in the car. I punch in Uluru in google maps and hope the internet will stay with me for long enough to get out of town and on the right track before it dies. I begin to drive into town, I see a McDonald’s and decide that a roadie breakfast will be a good idea and here is where everything begins to fall apart.
Before I can get to McDonald’s I first have to cross the railway line, it’s a line that is used by the Ghan, it runs twice a day and provides Alice with a shit load of supplies. It only runs twice a day but if you are unlucky enough to be held up by this train you will wait forever. The locals have a saying for when this happens, and it happened to me, I got ‘Ghanned.’
I’ll tell you now if you’re from a capital city or even a regional city and you visit Alice, things are different in the outback, time is less precious, things just movie a little slower, there is no need to rush. So when I pull into the Macca’s drive through I’m initially happy with my position of third in line, but eventually I realise that I have underestimated the time this will take, but there is someone behind me I really need to stay on top of my caffeine intake so I’m committed to my breakfast. I drive away with my McMuffin and my coffee frappichino a little later than I would have liked, but I’m still on track, everything is still ok. I follow my Google maps directions out onto a highway that leads out of turn, when I see a sign to South Australia, I think I should follow it but Google says nothing. I know better than to argue with Google. Google runs the world. I keep driving. Barely twenty seconds later Google is redirecting me back towards the sign. Grrrrrr. I have not had enough sleep for your bullshit Google. Get it together. I do a u-turn and head back and take the turn off. Soon I’m in the 130 zone and the dark is lifting so I can relax a little bit about all the animals that the locals have warned me about, but I still keep my eyes peeled as much as I can. I do not want this Barina to face off with a Red Kangaroo, I’m not sure which one weighs more. Two hours in, I’m exhausted but I arrive an Erldunda. It’s got a big ass petrol station on the corner of the turn off to the rock, I pull in fill up, use the loos, have a smoke, buy a drink and take off. I notice the car in front of me South Australian plates but I think nothing of it and just drive. I drive for 80 kilometers, the sun is getting hot, I’m having trouble staying awake and there is only red dirt to see everywhere I look, that is of course until I see a very big sign. It’s my first recognisable sign in an hour and when I see it I’m filled with absolute fucking horror. WELCOME TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. This is not good. I do not want to be here at all. I pull over, check myself, pinch myself, make sure that is what I just saw and turn the fuck around. I see another sign welcoming me to the Northern territory. I put the foot down and start doing some math. I can’t tell how many kilometer’s I drove incorrectly I just know the time and it was a while. I know I have to go back to Erlduna, and I have to do it as quickly as possible. I do it at 160. When I see cars in the distance I slow down but other that I drive this little 4 cylinder as fast as it will go in the middle of the road and I concentrate really fucking hard on what I am looking at ahead of me, if a kangaroo surprises me at this speed I am screwed, if I miss my flight I don’t have the money for another one I am screwed. It’s about 40 minutes back to Erlduna and there I am doing everything I can do, I cannot fix my mistake. I cannot speed up time or physically push this car any further. I am in a vortex. i just do not know if I can make this right, I don’t have enough information and I have no fucking internet. My head space gets pretty dark, I begin to think about every mistake I’ve ever made, all the times I’ve let myself down, every time I’ve other people down. This is why I am single I think, because I just cannot commit any partner to this stressful minute to minute life of chaos. Then the tears come, but I am driving too fast to take my hands off the steering wheel and wipe them away. But I don’t really need to, I’ve turned off the cooler to conserve petrol and they just evaporate in the morning sun and forceful wind. Now I am angry, I’m angry at my brain, I’m angry that I just cannot get it to perform at a level that I want it to. I yell at it. I tell it to fuck off and stop fucking with my life. I feel sorry for myself. I just wanted to see my friends. The tears stop when I see a truck stop, I make a calculated risk to stop and confirm my direction, I do not trust myself. Direction confirmed, I get back in the car and stare at the road ahead of me, I try and empty my brain of the dark thoughts and get on with the job. Eventually I see Erlduna. I look at my petrol gauge and make a calculated risk to keep going. I need to put some kilometers on the clock and get some momentum behind me. Now the information starts coming in. It’s 260 kilometers to the rock, it’s 9:40am, my flight leaves at 11:45 but I need to check in at 11:15. Maths is not my strong suit, I’m driving like I can make it but the numbers are not adding up. I need to make up an hour and a half somewhere. I need to refuel and I need to drop off the hire car, assuming that I haven’t completely destroyed the motor. If I was amped up before I am running out of steam, I am losing hope. Random alternative plans are starting to come into head. Would I have been better off to continue to Adelaide and get a cheap flight home and pay a one way car hire surcharge, should I have refuelled early, should I admit defeat and drive at a safe speed. I continue slowing down on sign of cars or towns. I have absolutely no faith left that I make my flight but I keep going because there is no alternative. I start thinking about which family member I am going to contact for the shameful, “can I borrow money?” conversation. Whose turn is it to save me from this shit. I see a petrol station, I cannot avoid it, I must stop and refuel, I’m thinking about the precious seconds and frustrated that it is a prepaid situation but I am fucking thirsty so at least there is that. I ask the girl at the counter how far until the rock, she tells me two hours. It’s 10:00am I have made up half and hour, I have to close the gap by another hour. It’s just not going to happen and I know it. I curse the Jetstar website that wouldn’t let me check in online the night before. I am all but defeated in my mind, as I continue to drive, I”m not thinking about anything, I’m on auto pilot. Time is getting away from me but as I get closer to the rock more signs begin to arise and suddenly I realise I have been calculating the kilometer’s to the rock, but the airport is actually a little bit closer than that, not much, but it is enough for a little bit of hope to return. And then the signs start coming, the math is getting better, I keep working my calculations out as if I am driving to the rock itself and hoping for the best. It’s 10:30 and the gap is closing suddenly best case scenario will have me there only a couple of minutes late. I need a bit of luck, I need the airport to be a bit more casual than Melbourne, I need them to be a little loose of time, I need no queues, I need the rental car return to be super quick (after I check in). I start thinking of lies I can tell the airline, “well, your online check in told me I had worked, but I just didn’t receive my boarding pass)” I start getting a game plan. I start to brighten up, I’m not confident by any means but I am not defeated just yet. And then I see animals. Fuck! I have to slow right down. The cattle wonder up and down the road and I’ve gotta go real slow now. For their sake and for mine. But I’m ok with the time, I making it up pretty well. km’s per hour to km’s left is on par now so as soon as the animals are gone I’m off. As I get closer I have to do a reasonable speed, there are more and more cars and I am in a better frame of mind. I decide that I have done whatever I could and whatever will be will be. I realise I’m alive and that I do have people that will help me get home if I need. I decide I’m very lucky, I feel very loved, I think I was definitely being dramatic, but I think this incident has been the push I needed to go to doctor and investigate whether or not I really do have ADD. And then I see the turn on to the airport, I take it, I turn onto the airport driveway it’s 11:12. I AM GOING TO MOTHER FUCKING MAKE IT! I park the car, grab the rubbish out in the bin, I grab my back pack and head the airline desk. I’m dizzy, I’m sweating, like everything is blurry, nothing feels real, I sort of can’t believe this is happening, there is a girl in front of me, she can’t find her ID, “you go first.” she says to me, “Oh my God thank you!” I run up to the counter. The attendant speaks, “To Melbourne?” “Yes!” “ID please, check in closes in two minutes.” I throw my license at her and seconds later I have my boarding pass. I still cannot believe it, but it is not over yet. I spin around and scan the security situation. There is not line up. Good. It’s Uluru, this was the one part of the part that I had daringly factored in. I keep spinning in the direction of the car hire place. Shit. He is serving someone, I remember how slow they were a few days ago. Shit, shit shit. I lineup, I’m trying not to look impatient, this is really not their fault, I really don’t want to take this out on them. The guy sees me, “Are you just returning a car?.” “Yeah.” “Just drop your keys in this box.” Well that’s the best fucking news ever. The car is returned, it’s not full of petrol, but fuck it, I’ll take it. I zoom through airport security. I’m at my gates. I don’t know if I was before but I know that I am breathing now. I am aware of the adrenaline, I am aware of my sweatiness. We begin to board. I am on the plane, I put my back back in the overhead locker, I am in my seat. This is happening. I made it. I’m going home. The plane starts to move, the attendants begin the safety check, I decide that I am going to order a bottle of wine at the earliest possible opportunity, but i do not, instead I just wake up at Tullermarine.