Part 0.1: Back on the horse

We continue our journey...well...pre-journey after getting up from the royal beating that was my time in Darwin—beginning with a glimmer of hope from a new job.

In the depths of my despair, I realised I was running out of money and needed to find new employment. An olive branch appeared when a company asked me to work on the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, Australia (again, Google ;). I can't express how perfect this job was for me, and I wondered first if there are Gods (jury is still out) and if they're watching out for me.

Imagine it's spring, the sun is shining, and the days are warm. If you didn't Google the GOR, it's arguably the most scenic road in Australia. It winds its way along the southern coast. The ocean on one side. Hills overflowing with flora and fauna on the other. You pass through quaint little seaside villages as you meander along at a leisurely pace. Halfway down this iconic road was my job site. Also, the work was straightforward. I sat for hours on top of the job site, looking out over the ocean and letting my soul repair itself. Some fantastic people surround me. None of them knows about my trauma. Hence the jury is still out on the existence of God. I could not have imagined a perfect place after my ordeal.

Slowly I started to feel better and was very surprised when a tiny fire I was convinced had gone out began to glow again. If I did the math, I might still make this trip. Can I afford it? Do I have the strength? Can it be done? The questions came up again and again

The GOR was temporary as I was asked to go north into Queensland to work on another project. An alumina (the powder that will then turn into aluminum) refinery. The money wasn't great. However, I would live at a mining camp because it was FIFO. It would bring my living costs to zero. Things were looking A LOT better.

I would have to say. The people I worked with in the small town of Gladstone, QLD, are the best people I've ever worked with in my life. I've never felt so welcomed, become part of the team and found a band of brothers like the blokes in that little facility. We worked hard, laughed a lot and had a great time doing it. Most of the work involved setting up abseiling ropes so other technicians could perform inspections or welding repairs. Sometimes things got more interesting.

One occasion was to change stabilising rods that held up a propellor and funnel system inside a tank. However, this tank is 6 stories high, and the propellor is the size of a house. It took some complex manoeuvres, but we removed the propellor. Then it was time to enter the empty tank and perform repairs. Fortunately, the tank was full of an acidic liquid that would dissolve your entire body in minutes, and there were small pools of it left in the tank. If you were lucky enough to touch one with your bare skin, it wasn't too bad until it stopped itching. It was commonly known as being 'kissed by caustic'.

After a few weeks there, the trip was DEFINATELY back on.

I should mention the 'camp' also. You see, these 'camps' are purpose-built facilities. It was built for the project's construction phase when the 800 room camp was packed every night. All meals, rooms (double bed, shower, toilet and desk), swimming pools, gyms, library and cinema provided. Now...A total of 6 'guests' and a few staff. We were our own little family. It was awesome.

If this trip happens, I guess I should probably find a motorbike to do it on. The search for Shirley would began soon.