road , more of an ocean .
We ’ d purchased Bluetooth headsets for the trip , the first time either of us had ever used them , and immediately could see their benefits ; communicating with one another on dangers such as blind-corners , reckless drivers , or road surface issues . That was the theory , anyway . Alternatively , you could use them to bitch about the weather , debate the merits of riding gear versus swimming trunks and postulate the theory of an outfit made entirely of heated grips .
We had a small breather at the Twelve Apostles , taking advantage of the briefly parting cloud and pale blue sky . The sea was a ferocious , wild mess but with few tourists it was a welcome break for a pair of novice riders that were already feeling the arse-ache . Three hundred kilometres down , 4700km to go . Great !
We ploughed on and reached Warrnambool by nightfall , setting up the tents in the rain , eating in the rain , and dolefully packed up our gear in the morning rain . Adventure motorcycle trips , not as grand as one would hope ! However , it did give us chance to test out some theories , a backpacker ’ s tent vs the motorcycle swag . The latter , a staple , so it said in the reviews , made of heavy canvas and a hidden 2,000-kilogram anvil within , was quick to assemble and pack , yet when unfurled had the all the voluminous expanse of a coffin . For an emaciated midget the tent , however , took time to assemble , caught the wind , often creating a symphony of flapping fabric all night , but one could store more in it . A tent is more practical , a swag more convenient and took only seconds to unfurl . In both cases we agreed that putting tent pegs in hard ground ( i . e . everywhere in Australia ), would need the leveraged weight of a hippo … or a wet motorcycle swag …
TRAVERSE 55