And so it was, we left Tennant Creek and headed east along the Barkly Highway. This stretch of highway is one of the most isolated we came across in our circumnavigation of Australia – the only photos we took between Tennant Creek and Mt Isa tell of endless dry red dirt and battered old signage covered in graffiti and stickers marking the border between the Northern Territory and Queensland (like the one above). It is probably even less inhabited than the Nullarbor Plain.

The only memorable stops were at Barkly Homestead, where they sell not only an astonishing array of memorabilia but freshly-cooked Chiko Rolls (probably manufactured in the dark ages but bloody delicious); and Avon Downs Police Station, a lonely group of buildings standing alone on the highway near the Queensland border. Its collection of rusting, wrecked cars which had met with violent ends answered our musings as to the purpose of a police station so far from anywhere.

What a change it was, crossing into Queensland. At last it felt like we were coming into civilisation. But at the same time – what’s this? Traffic lights?? Arrghh there’s so many people!! And so much TRAFFIC!! OK, can we turn around and go back to Broome now?

But we pressed on to the centre of Mt Isa, where we reorientated ourselves to shopping centres, parking lots and Queensland bogans. We had an interesting dinner at the pub, where I was served… deep-fried vegetables. Crumbed. With sweet chilli and plum sauces. Can’t say it would have won a Michelin star, but I guess it did the job. But I have a sneaky suspicion I would’ve been better off with Clinton’s steak.
 
So after a long tedious day on the road, we rolled ourselves into bed for a night of dreams about traffic jams, crowds of jostling people, and Brisbane pulling us onwards…