Broken Hill Part 2 ðŸ˜‰

So, I was asleep by like 9.45 last night and slept through until 3.30 this morning; better than the night before’s effort. I’ve been lying here for the last half hour trying to get back to sleep; life without alarms creates a better environment for sleep lol.

For me, the only part of travelling I do not like is leaving my kids (pets) at home. As soon as the suitcase came out, Max became clingy and silly. Sammy has no idea and Molly slept on the case, refusing to move, so that I couldn’t pack. Leaving them is the only part I struggle with.

As I said last night, Margo arrived at 2.20 yesterday morning to pick me up. We loaded my stuff into the car (I have NEVER packed this much stuff, not even when I went to Europe for three months during winter). I repacked my case last night and, yes, my worst fears were confirmed: I have brought with me a lot that I won’t use. At least though, I have choices.

Margo and I are both control freaks. I think of my closest friends and with a few exceptions, we all are, or can be, or are trying not to be. We ‘get’ one another lol. I think this is why we get on so well – there is a deep understanding of the way the other works. We are also very generous and very compassionate people, usually for others rather than ourselves, but we are also cynical about humans. Interesting – I’ve never really realised these similarities before.

Anyway, as a result, Margo and I can spend hours with one another in a car without issue. We drove from Thirlmere past Berrima down towards Yass, where at 4am we had breakfast at McDonalds. We then drove to Hay for petrol and a toilet stop. There are not McDonalds’ everywhere, contrary to urban folklore. At this point, our first doses of hysteria onset by tiredness started.

“Where are we, Margo?”


For hours, this continued. And we would both dissolve into maniacal giggles. Hours.

We stopped on the side of the road, outside Hay, because there were beautiful wildflowers in vivid colours, carpeting the verge. I took photos. Tranquility. Hippie. Meh. What can you do. Need to be authentic.

We proceeded to have conversations about God, existence, the spirit world … the lighter side of life lol. The road continued. Straight and flat roads, one after the other, all the way to Broken Hill. We left NSW to eat Maccas for lunch in Mildura – everyone was SO nice. It is jarring after being in a more urban environment. I don’t think we realise how hard we become in the city.

Through private property, thirty kilometres of goat farm, and then a petrol stop at Coomba. A road stop is all that exists here (that we could see). A beautiful soul works there and she and I exchanged conversation about the local area – definitely not shy anymore.

Making great time, we entered Broken Hill at 3.15 or so. Margo had to meet with a client and I perused the Art Gallery. From there we drove to The Living Desert and stone sculptures. I grew so excited, a kid at Christmas, as memories of the connection I felt to the Grand Canyon flooded back. I always feel so connected and grounded in the natural world; my soul resonates at its highest vibration here.

Becoming very fatigued, we checked in to our motor inn, went and bought dinner, watched The Block, and I came back to my room and slept.

I am now sitting on the toilet, still tired, but ready to start our ten hour drive to Coober Pedy along roads I have never been before ( or can’t remember). Today, Coober Pedy; tomorrow, Uluru.

Oh, and the Universe never lets us down, it will always provide what we need: lesson learned.

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