Next morning at the supermarket in town, I was collared by a woman who noticed I was riding a fixed gear. She said she hasn’t seen one on the road at all since leave the UK 30 years ago. She claimed to have been a former female British Time-Trial Champion, I never got her name so I can’t check but I’ve no reason to doubt it. Anyway, just as I was leaving the supermarket to go and fix breakfast I bumped into a few people I’d spent a few days with in Broken Hill. I offered them some tea which wasn’t the best idea seeing as I’d only one mug for the three of us

After a prolonged breakfast I eventuallt left town just before lunch time. I followed the most easterly sealed route north into the Flinders. It was beautiful riding, the air was cool enough but the sun was warm on the skin, green fields, rolling hill and almost no traffic at all. In a little place called Orroroo I sent a postcard home for the first time ever on my travels, I’ll be they’ll be surprised to see that! I continued onto a little place in the hills called Carrieton. The old school, long since closed had been converted into a Caravan Park and some budget accomodation. $15 a night for a bunk is pretty reasonable and as I was the only person there I had the place to myself. A Queensland couple were caretakers of the place and in the evening the offered to let relax in the office which had a fire and a TV, which was really nice.

Next day the winds were evil, it was a northerly and strong enough to make even walking in it a chore. The forecast promised a shift in direction so I stayed another day. Hmmmm, inside with a cosy fire and a good supply of tea or grinding into a brutal headwind – it didn’t take long to decide what to do.

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