By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
“Yeah, it should be right” the mechanic barked, clapping his oil-stained hands together. This seemed to be the typical response to any question regarding health and safety in this country. I’d asked him to check over the 1999 Mitsubishi Express I was planning to drive 3,000 kilometres through the centre of the Australian outback. Almost as old as I was and mostly held together by cable ties, one thing the van didn’t lack was character. The mechanic assured me the engine was in good working order and I’d been told these old-school vans were known for being robust - robust was what I needed amongst the dry red dirt of the Northern Territory. I never imagined I would be driving a banged-up van with only a mattress in the back to sleep on through the unforgiving outback. That’s the amazing thing about travel – it pushes you to go further then you ever have done before, to do things you’ve never even dreamed about and to grow in ways you never imagined. I swore I wouldn’t drive a car in Australia (let alone a van!) and that I'd stick to the main tourist spots like the East Coast, Sydney and Melbourne. But here I found myself – in a dusty country town on the South Coast, ready to drive away into the unknown. My plan was to drive from Adelaide up the Stuart Highway to Darwin, stopping at free campsites (or the side of the road) once the sun disappeared – I had been warned kangaroos were most active at night, and they were not unknown to jump out in front of fast-moving cars and cause some serious damage due to their hard-as-rock muscle mass. I had also been told to stock up on drinking water and petrol to last at least a few days. Amenities were few and far between on the Stuart Highway so if you happened to break down in a spot that wasn’t too close to one of these, you could end up in serious trouble. If it wasn’t the heat that got you, it would be the wild dingoes or worse – I tried not to let my imagination run too wild. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t question whether this trip was a good idea, but I put all of my worries aside and trundled off in my rattling van. Being out on the open road made me feel freer than I ever have before. Adrenaline rippled through my body - the unknown was exhilarating. I watched wet limestone turn to blood-stained dust turn to rocky moon-like landscapes, unlike anything I had ever seen. It was incredible but also exhausting. Heat hung stagnant in the van and weighed heavy on my chest. One night I pulled into a free camp, feeling weak and heavy from a long day of driving, to be met by a wide-eyed girl, panic exuding from her pores. She had been mugged just moments before. The reality of my situation set in - it was dangerous out here - but I knew I had to push on. Reaching the Macdonnell Ranges close to Alice Springs was a personal accomplishment – I had heard so much about this beautiful mountain range that seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth. As I approached the awe-inspiring peaks, the setting sun was just visible between the tops of the mountains, casting a golden hue over the immense landscape below. It was at that moment I realised why I had pushed myself to undertake this gruelling trip. It hadn’t been easy – the empty desert that at times seemed barren and lonely, unfamiliar sounds that made my heart beat out of my chest – but it was all worth it in that moment. That moment where time seemed to stand still, where everything seemed to align, where the only thing that occupied my brain was the beauty before my eyes. The sun setting over the mountains – this is the moment that stays with me. This is the moment I will take with me to my grave. It is these moments that we remember, not the hardships along the way. This is why we travel – to collect memories that will last a lifetime.