Sunday, November 25, 2012

Gibb River Road

With our last break over it was time for the actual beginning of our Grand Tour across the Top End. One of the great highlights in our itinerary and definitely a road we both had been looking forward to was the infamous Gibb River Road.

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Though I have been here 2 years ago, the Gorges and landscapes are just beautiful and the challenges of the road itself were already reason enough. Adding to the equation that Laura hasn’t been her yet and the only alternative being another eventless highway there was no way round it. With good reason this is a road with a bit of a reputation. Though a large budget is being spent on maintenance, its popularity and high traffic throughput cause a hell of a lot of wear and tear ever changing road conditions and reports. A statement I got a good reminder of on this visit, sections that were smooth on my last visit have become badly rutted and corrugated while some previously bad areas turned out to be as smooth as the German Autobahn.

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While we do prefer to be “off the beaten track” which the Gibb isn’t anymore, we did enjoy the benefit of finding people to spend some time with. A great thing about this region/road is the mix of accessibility and discomfort. Not everybody likes it, increasing the likelihood of meeting some interesting characters.

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This was the case with a group of fellow travellers we spent a couple of days with. Mainly Aurelie and Gael who joined us nearly all the way till Darwin. They both had a quite inspiring history: Gael was training to become a professional sportsman but recently developed a Go to my Album circulatory condition making it impossible for him to walk long distances and Aurelie has background from half way around the globe. The thing that made these two so interesting is what they made of themselves.
While Gaels disability stopped him from doing his sports, he turned his attention. He is so focused to it that his clarinet and saxophone became permanent companions no matter where he goes. He would walk as far as his legs could carry him to a gorge and start to play at every stop he did – You would nearly always know if he was somewhere within the next few kilometers.

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