Released
Trip Start
Nov 28, 2004
1
57
Trip End
Jun 11, 2005
Sydney,
New South Wales,
Australia
Friday, February 18, 2005
Another of the daily descents into the concrete bunker that sits far below the warm streets of Sydney in glorious summertime. People's faces are becoming etched with despair. It's sad to watch these former happy-go-lucky travellers rocking in their chairs and muttering like imbeciles. Losing their minds as their cars stand idle like a huge ball and chain. Three Israelis have a gutless Japanese estate car in a patchwork of primrose yellow. It bears hateful SA plates. Dear oh dear. They've been here so long holding out for the price they want, that they've grown long beards. I pity their chances.
Ben is next to me with a much newer shape '95 Falcon, in glossy red. The former AA man from Bournemouth confidently sells his car quickly. Across the way, along the avenue of gloom we have another 80's Falcon just like mine, but this one's red. It's got some heritage too - ' Beauty ' has been on BBC TV in a documentary about backpackers who drive around Australia in their old cars. The owners achieve a sale, as do some lads with a blue XF almost identical to mine. But in their case, not before having it switched to NSW plates. As a result, their net sale is only about a thousand bucks. I reduce my price to 1,800 but the NT rego' stays. With the other two XF's gone, I should be getting a sale very soon.
On day six, I am out at Bondi junction buying wiper blades as ordinary people sip beer at the beach. My phone rings and it's Alan - the English lad who has been to see my car. He now wants a test drive. I drive him and his pals around Sydney CBD and the car throws up no nasty surprises. We agree on 1,700 dollars. He and his two young friends are fresh off the plane and I get the impression that they have done little preparation for their trip. Why do I know this ?
Alan says it's good the car has NT plates because they are driving up to Cairns anyway - and can do the paperwork while they are there. Cairns of course is in Queensland, not in the Northern Territories. They won't be re-registering their car there that's for sure. The chappie on the front desk doesn't mention it either as the transaction is completed. But I detect a smirk. I walk out into the sun a free man at last with a pocket stuffed full of yellow fifty dollar bills. A weight lifted, my sentence complete. I feel a deep sadness and regret, however. Watching my car exit the car park and inching its way down through King's X. The most loyal and trustworthy friend a man could ever have. Alan and his friends have bought a good car which should serve them well. I've told them to watch the temperature gauge and top up the oil. I myself have one last job to do - and without delay, a case of cold VB from the nearest bottle-o is walked back underground and icy tins distributed to all.
Next ; Balmain Backpackers. A return to travelling without the convenience of wheels. Plus, the search for a job.
