Day 131 | Lasseter's Cave, at least nearby: He's finally left WA

64 km | zzOz total: 6,694 km

The border has enough signage for, err, for a major shopping centre: the welcomes to the NT, and WA, although that one was laying down; how to drive appropriately on dirt roads, x 3; welcome and farewell to the Shire of Ngaanyatjarraku; leave your alcohol and pornography at home, another old wooden Great Central Road sign; and, most important, distance information, Uluru, (Ayres Rock), 240 km, and Docker River, 8 km.

It was Docker River on my mind, that needs a song to match the title, I’d heard of a reasonable store, as in reasonable variety but not necessarily so reasonable prices, as I’m running out of supplies until I reach civilisation at Yulara and the 1200 people who support the Uluru travel experience.

And so Docker River proved to be: everything I need for the next 3 days, cost, $50. The only decent fruit was oranges at $1 a pop, I decided $4 was acceptable as a scurvy avoidance precaution.

Docker River is an Aboriginal settlement, population fluctuating wildly in the 100-200 region, the shop and management of the place, as is typical in Central Australia is not achieved by the locals, there’s a distinct white tinge to those behind the counters.

I haven’t taken photos of any of the locals, or of their townships, because firstly it’s officially prohibited, and, secondly, it just doesn’t seem right. I don’t really want to describe the conditions, popping in for an hour or so seems insufficient time to make any real assessment.

Being an old wet liberal I’ve been a fierce supporter of self-determination, the only positive, long-term, future but that requires a level of leadership and I fear the leaders may not have been born yet.

The town’s dogs watch me load up the bike with the food and a full complement of water. I got a huge surprise when a dog athletically launched itself out of one of the lidless wheelie bins outside the store. Another dog fails to lift its leg, no excuse as there’s plenty of trees around with which to learn and manages to piss all over its front legs.

Sort of sums up the situation really.

At 12 the shop shut for a couple of hours siesta and everyone drifted off. A local government white 4WD, they are all white, bowled up and asked, like everyone else had, where I was going.

There’s only two options, obviously. East, I answer, Yulara.

We’re delivering meals on wheels from the local health clinic a cheery worker said.

Oh, what have you got today? I joked, rubbing my hands together.

As it turned out they had a spare meal and they handed it out: at least you’ll appreciate its healthy aspects.

Have to state for the record I’m not a senior, yet, I said, but I have forgotten where I left my Zimmer frame.

Entree: 2 pieces of delicious quiche, half an egg, some carrot, beetroot and sliced up red pepper. Main: a standard issue Mrs Macs meat pie, complete with original cellophane wrapper, almost warm, with dessert an apple something, rather sweet for someone unaccustomed to sugar, in custard with cream.

Overall verdict: yummm.

Best meal in weeks, thanks team.