Day Two - Broome to Geike Gorge

freikörperkultur (free body culture) is the german word for taking your clothes off for any damn reason at all. in a country of people that love getting their kit off, apparently even murmuring the phrase FKK (ef-ka-ka) is met with the sound of belt buckles hitting the floor. it needs no mention that g is half german. ef-ka-ka became a dominant theme of our little holiday, and day two was no exception, as g and i tore our clothes off for a sunrise splash at cable beach (again the only nudes on the nudist beach), and let the warm waves of the indian ocean wash away the sins of a melbourne winter come to soon.

we stocked up on enough rubbish to eat for 2 weeks at woolworths, then hit the road: it was primarily a day of driving.

not far out of broome we first bore witness to the breathtaking beauty of the baobab. though a weed on asteroid B612, on earth the baobab is the glorious king of trees.

our car - jasper (sounds like 'i hope' if pronounced with a so frenchy, so chic accent) was the hero of our roadtrip. 2 comfortable seats up front, AC, a little kitchenette at the back and enough storage to grant asylum to a cable beach camel dreaming of a better life. over our storage planks we would spread our mattresses and sleep like babies on our double bed. initially we were concerned that the wicked camper company would give us a shonky death trap, but there was nothing that jasper - with g at his helm - could not handle. river crossings of crocodile infested waters, steep sandy climbs, super-corrugated dirt roads, comfortable city driving: jasper was always in his element. all hail! he was almost as versatile as the boys he was carrying.

we arrived at geike gorge (darngku) near fitzroy crossing before sunset for a stroll between its 30m cliffs, and cooled down on the sandbank with a bit of FKK, avoiding the freshwater crocs lest they spy a treat that would be a little bit too tasty for them.

that night the moon was just a razor thin sliver in the sky, and we could see constellations that aren't visible from melbourne, which i always find really exciting. we camped at the old fitzroy river crossing next to... a large pile of dirt. doesn't actually sound romantic...but it was!

Day One - Dover Street to Broome

while melbourne was in the death throws of another short autumn, g and i got up at 4am and slipped out of town under the seal of darkness. why? for g+o's next adventure: road trip through the kimberley!

we'd hired a wicked 4WD camper online. i'm sure you've all seen the wicked campers around. judging by the image that they self-promote, we expected a run in with the body-slam culture of young english fuckwits drunk before lunchtime unable to engage with anyone beyond discussion of tits and pussy as they stumble around in a drug induced stupor.

our first impressions confirmed these suspicions. of the two staff at wicked campers broome, the aussie hadn't seen a bar of soap in years, was drunk and reeked of cheap alcohol (at 2 o'clock in the afternoon), and the english kid was just a cunt.

we headed to the famously beautiful cable beach for a dip and later returned to gaze at the sunset. despite the fact that our part of the beach was technically a nudist beach, it was jam packed with young and old sitting in their 4WDs parked on the sand, and trains of camels being led backwards and forwards as they buckled under the weight of fat white east-coast tourists. everyone, including the camels, was fully clothed.

i had heard the call of nature echoing from deep within my sigmoid colon in the carpark, and by the time we had wandered almost 1km down the nudist beach, surrounded only by sand and camels with not a toilet in sight, i knew that i was on borrowed time.

necessity is the mother of invention, so as things got dire, i clawed my way out of my clothes and threw myself into the waves. the camel riders thought that i was grinning because my bare arse was being lapped by the warm waters. they were half-right - but they were too blinded by the setting sun to see that i had reached a pinnacle of liberation and was doing a BP (dumping my waste in the ocean).

we weren't in the mood to cop a camping fee when we were so self-sufficient with our little camper, so we crept down an old dirt back road on the peninsula and had our first glorious night's sleep. join us for the next installation when the road trip begins!

sydney

on sunday g and i both found ourselves in a terrible state...the state of new south wales.

we had jetsetted just for the day to check out the biennale, which was expectedly wonderful. sydney was foul. shut it down. there are no trams. people are rude. there are no trams.

king of pop party!

WOW! what a great night! i can't think of a better way to have celebrated my 30th birthday. thank you everyone! here are some pics and clips from the night :)

g is frantic preparing all the food! what an amazing chef!

the awesome projection that g made for our entry!

our personalised game of guess who with people from the party!

crazy eyes!

the guests arrive - including thao and our youngest party animal ben!

helen is janet

tombo is...beloved

sorcha is...foul to be perfectly honest

woof toi alors!

louie

ricardo

david and kevin made no effort and just came as themselves...

steveybear looks perplexed

anne taking her work home with her as usual

shana, rob and the thing

ali looks amazing!

antonia and...whatever sarah came as

the boys chill out on the balcony

me and the ping pong!

the cremorne award for best costume winner nazgol and runners up ali and louie

there's something so right about this photo

my childhood dream was to do a bus-stop where everyone sits on the knees of the person behind them in a circle. it only took me 30 years to realise that dream, but here is the evidence!!!

the dancing gets started!

louie leads the group in style! g looks like he's come straight from moe.

and finally, a youtube insert of a round of thriller!