See her while she's hot

Alice Springs' old tourism motto - see her while she's hot - and sure enough we were lucky to do that this week. Well, I say lucky a little tongue-in-cheek. This week has been hot. Very hot. More so than usual. Not just on the temperature gauge, either.

With a sense of foreboding, I remarked to Fred on Saturday that the air conditioning in the car didn't seem to be working. Fred tried to work some magic on the weekend but to no avail. When we set out on Monday for a planned overnight trip to Warakurna via Wanarn (a 270k journey), we had a lot of water in the car. Within about 10 minutes, Eleanor was red in the head, and I was wondering what the hell I was thinking in following through with the trip. It was hot. Damn hot. Hot air blowing through the vents. Hot air blowing through the windows. Hot seats. Hot floor. Hot roof. Hot.

We gasped into Jameson en route and made a beeline for the store. Icecreams all round (Eleanor thought it was great... briefly). Icy cold cans of Coke Zero, more water, and we were off again. As luck would have it, one of the clients we were searching for waved us down on the Great Central Road. We crossed her off the list before we got to Wanarn - five minutes of luck sparing us the disappointment of just missing her. And this on a day when going to Wanarn was like a marathon effort. The store manager of Wanarn took pity on us and let us into the store, even though it was closed for lunch. Bliss. More cold water, another icecream, some fresh green grapes from their orchard for $2. And on we ploughed on to Warakurna.

That last 90 k was the hardest journey I've had on the Lands. About half way, I leaned over to Fred and beseechingly implored "are we nearly there?" He was kind enough to say "almost". By this time, we had moved on from reminding Eleanor to drink her water to playing games that consisted of spitting water onto each other and drenching her in the process. We then backed this up by, rather out of character, handing her precarious small tubs of water that she could try to drink from (and, as intended, accidentally spill all over herself). We collapsed into Warakurna and went straight to the roadhouse. In a random act of kindness, the staff had put the airconditioner on for us and we walked into a cool room that felt like a fridge (to our poor unaccustomed pores).

The last ten minutes of the journey was spent with me fixated on how we could get to Alice Springs and get the car fixed. Pronto. No return trip to Blackstone. "We could buy some clothes in Alice." "If it's the short trip on the mail plane, Eleanor and I could catch that while you drive". "It's worth paying for the flight ourselves - imagine this for 7 hours!" As luck would have it, there was a seat on the mail plane. It was the short route (the plane alternates which route it takes each week, giving each community a short and long flight once a fortnight). The car could be booked in. The boss said yes. Poor Fred. He definitely drew the short straw having to drive to Alice.

Breathing easy in Alice

So, Tuesday in Alice Springs, Wednesday buying new clothes and swimmers and catching up with a good friend, Thursday relaxing by the pool as the car was fixed, Friday doing a little shopping and waiting for the car to really get fixed. Saturday at Ayers Rock relaxing by the pool. Sunday, home at last. She's hot, but we can hardly feel it in the car. It's like a different world with cold air blowing on your toes.