Once we leave the Eastern Coast - the best known and most frequented by tourists - the second part of our trip concerns one of the Australian continent, and I have to say among the most interesting on the planet. Besides the two Lambrettas, left in the good and loving hands of our friends from our Italian Club, there is another one, prepared and shipped by plane from Italy by our friend Vanes. He has always been fascinated by Australia and he has joined us to continue the trip. He has reduced his luggage to the minimum, and from the first kilometres he shows great skill in controlling his 150 LD. We leave our friends in Darwin with the inevitable group photo, to enter Kakadu National Park. KAKADU NATIONAL PARK The park, a real natural oasis, gathers an enormous quantity of wild animals, such as crocodiles, kangaroos, birds, buffalo and snakes.The roads starts from the Stuart Hgw and goes Eastwards in the Australian Savannah for some hundreds of kilometres and then turns towards South-West to cross again at Pine Creek - one of the most important gold mine centres. The asfhalt ribbon follows the ground undulations and we reach Jabiru with no big problems, asfer passing Adelaide River Crossing. Here it is possible to live in a Crocodile Dundee environment by going along the river, which has still go plenty of water in it this season, seeing the "jumping" Crocodiles. The sings say "Take care of your life, pay attention to crocodiles". Actually, if a crocodile eats a man it is an accident, while if you kill a crocodile you risk very strict punishments. In Jabiru we can't miss a stop at the Four Season Kakadu Hotel, which has the shape of an enormous crocodile. We won't stand on ceremony with the cook for the enormous buffet, which will remain just a memory for the rest of our journey. The following day in Yellow Water we visit the marshes, which host - besides crocodiles - thousands of birds and tasteful barramundi. We also visit the Aboriginal rock paintings and the Sandy Billabong (marshes). It is very hot during this period of the dry season, but can stand it while we are moving. Anyway, the landscape around us and the idea of beginning a journey which will let us discover new things and new horizons helps us forget discomforts and efforts. Our little Lambretta caravan goes southward, then westward, and we enter Kimberly. THE END OF THE DREAM Unfortunately the crossing between two road trains at a narrow point makes our friend Vanes leave the road. At the moment we feel that, for him at least, the adventure is at an end. He has a deep wound in his forearm, luckily with no fractures or serious injuries. The Lambretta's fork and steering are bent. We mend it quickly just to get to the nearest place, and there we load both Lambretta and Vanes on a pick-up. This will take him to Katerine Hospital, about 200 kms. We travel during the night to reach the hospital. The accident will turn out to be more serious than expected and we will leave our friend at the hospital, as it is impossible to go on together. The memory of this bad accident will not leave us for the rest of the journey, even though each night we contact him to keep informed on his condition in hospital. AND THEN THERE WERE TWO As we have said, we leave Stuart Hgw to turn west, on Great Northern Hgw. Here the traffic hardly exists, the road runs quiet among low rocky mountains, crosses rivers - sometimes roaring and sometimes dry. Thorny bushes alternate with bottle trees and the prairie. We have previously established our stops according to filling points and places where we can sleep at night, but every night, before going to sleep, we carefully examine the road map to plan more precisely petrol, water and food supplies fo the following day. Our Lambrettas have proved tireless up to now and they attract the curiosity of the people who travel on these roads. Curiosity and admiration above all from those share our passion for two-wheelers and adventure. We enter Kimberly, a region of Western Australia with 22,000 inhabitants and 600,000 cows and oxen. It is one of the sharpest mountainous areas and at the same time more fascinating in the north-east. kununurra is the most important centre, from which the expedition to the inner part of this region start. We see lakes on different levels, joined to one another by falls, impetuous streams which find their way among rocks, moony landscape like Bungle-Bungle and pure lakes where it is possible to fish or sail and which allow water plains as large as Switzerland. IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA We head southward, into the heart of Western Australia. This Australian state, nearly 8 times larger than Italy, is the largest in the federation and has a population of only 1,800,000 inhabitants, 42,000 of which are native. It is considered the Australian Wild West, both for its mining wealth and its wild and unexplored territory. Although it only has one twelfth of the population, it contributes one fourth of the national income. Here you find gold, diamonds, pearls, nickel, copper, gas, iron - to mention only most important. In Timber Creek we have to repair the clutch cable and we take the chance to replace a cracked lever with another. Here we try to get some help from a Roadhouse mechanic. He kindly answers he has a lot to do, but for $18 he sells us a small no return 5 litres tank, which we absolutely need to increase our petrol supply for the following day. In Australia we haven't always met available machanics, on the contrary. In Hails Creek a sign reads "We make no repairs for tourists". Congratulations! In all Western Australia this is the blooming season, so the roadsides are turned into neverending gardens which are hundreds of kms long, with more than 3,000 different kinds of flowers, many of which are peculiar to the place. You can meet 4 metres tall mimosas and you can smell the most disparate perfumes, soft, sweet, bitter. WOLF CREEK CRATER We can't miss the chance, once in Halls Creek, to visit Wolf Creek Crater, a meteor crater slightly more than 100 kms away. We take a supply of petrol and water and, not to travel heavier than necessary, we leave the rest of the luggage at the motel where we will return. After some asphalt road here is the diversion which shows our destination. The road, if we can call it this, is marked by deep tracks left by heavy lorries, so deep that our Lambrettas nearly disappear in them. We don't get scared, hoping things will get better, but this is not the case. Red dust wraps us when we pass and forces us to keep a good distance, letting anvone who follows us have good visibility. The suffocating heat, the arms aching in the effort to keep the scooters in the desired direction and the continuous jerks make us forecast nothing good on, reaching the crater. Also, the exhausts risk being literally ripped off every time we land, and so do the rods under the board. We were forced to stop several time to clean the air filters and the visor, but our determination to reach the goal and get back overcome every consideration. We took 7 hours to cover 100 kms, an average speed slightly faster than a marathon runner's, but the crater was in front of us. The Wolf Crater, originated by a meteor, has a diameter of about 800 metres and its perfectly circular rim is about 4 metres high. It is the Earth's second largest crater after Meteor Crater in Arizona. From the rim you can see the desert plain around in all its desolate, immense extension. A few minutes' stop and then we set off, not to be overtaken by darkness on our way back. At the moment of the departure we realise that during the trip the oil level plug has come unscrewed because of some bump and nearly all the oil has got out. To go on with no oil and in those conditions would inevitably put the gears out of use, stopping us from continuing our journey. With the ground conditions towing is impossible. We can only reach the village to get the damaged Lambretta back. But the risk one of us would have had to face going back alone on that track looking for help, or worse, the two of us on the same scooter, forced us to find another solution. The sun above us, the remaining time and the small water supply (nearly at the end), and the remote possibility that someone might pass that way in a short time forced us to be quick. We remember that drivers in the desert, with oil losses in the gear or differential case, did not hesitate to mix oil and sawdust. This dense mix sticks to the cogs and keeps them oiled for some kilometres. We substitute a small branch for the lost plug, blocking it with a strip of inner tube, and then we make some sawdust with the small saw in our switchblade knife, paying attention not to mix sand or other impurities. We use the very flowing oil of the petroil which alone would leak out after some kilometres. We obtain a mush sticky enough to ensure lubrication in the gear. After some minutes working the mix looks like grease and lets us make our way back. After the first few kilometres it works, and we manage to get back on the main road in the middle of the night. We hope no dishonest mechanic ever decides to use this method for quick gear set-ups. The following day we will clean the gear with diesel oil, making sure no sawdust has remained, and we will continue our journey towards Perth. On our way we meet every kind of animal. Sometimes we stop and help big monitor lizards to cross the road without being run over by some vehicle, or eaten by birds of prey waiting for them. As they don't understand our intentions they swell, then move their thin violet spatuled tongue and dash at our shoes... We don't use the same technique with snakes. Our journey continues, despite the continuous punctures. The rough asphalt, very good at keeping the weight of road trains, heats up our small tyres, eats them up and makes them liable to punctures. Mending them comes one after another. We reach Derby, a sea haven where they load nickel from a pier stretching into the Indian Ocean. Derby, an important centre for pearl growing, the residence of a conspicuous Chinese and Filippino community, is Aldo the Flying Doctor's hometown. Here they keep a famous, enormous empty baobab, used as a prison for natives, which could keep 15 prisoners... well packed! When we leave Derby we stop in Broome, a welcoming tourist resort on the Indian Ocean, a centre for pearl trading. The enormous white sand beach which stretches on endlessly for more than 180 kms south is attended by the most demanding international tourists. The sunset on the Ocean, which we have read about in all tourist guides, is a show we don't want to miss. Contrasting magnificently, we have the paradise of Broome behind us and in front of us the Great Sandy Desert, with all its desolation and its wild beauty. The heat is a little softened by the proximity of the sea, even though the wind is sometimes strong and stop us reaching high speeds - the average speed is sometimes only 40 kph. THE MEETING We are by now used to punctures and we hardly notice them, but this time we realise we have a flat tyre soon after leaving. Temperature is high at midday, and above all the rubber cement is loose in the tool bag. We remove the inner-tube and then wait for a car driver so we can ask for help. Unexpected, walking on the roadside, an old native gets close. He's got long hair and a white beard, worn-out kaki trousers, a cloth sack on his shoulder, a flask. His look is imposing and fierce. He gets close and realises our problem, asking us if he can help. We nod and he asks for a 25 cent coin. We look in our pockets, but it is useless. "Woe betide you if you haven't got a 25 cent coin," he says. He looks in his sack and he finds one, indeed a 25 cent one. He asks if we smoke and as we say no he whispers "Woe betide you if you don't smoke". He takes the coin with a small branch as if it were pliers, warms it with a lighter with a long and smoky flame, puts it on the patch, by now nearly completely detached, presses it some moments with a small stone not to get scorched and that's it. Unbelieving and astonished, we show our gratefulness by offering a reward. The old man refuses politely and only after our insistence he whispers that a beer's worth is enough - one dollar. We answer that a beer may not be enough to quench his thirst. He smiles with his eyes and answers "OK, two beers", and with slow but steady pace goes off into the desert without ever turning back. In the evening we reach the Road House and we tell everybody about that strange meeting. Everyone knows him in the Great Sandy Desert. He is an old patriarch, more or less a hundred years old, who in the past has been the companion of gold searchers, hunters, adventurers and mining expeditions. Now he is old, and subsequently the helicopter, aeroplane and geological maps have made his knowledge of the place no longer indispensable. So he spends all his time visiting his wiver, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren scattered round all the region - one day here, one day there - always walking with his old sack, his flask, his sandals made out of car tyres and above all his wisdom. PORT HEDLAND It is the end of the rail line which carries iron minerals from the open sky mines on the coast, and it is described as a town where you go for some time, just enough to make some money and then leave. 15 kms from the town the "A" stops and doesn't want to start again. As we can't check it, we presume its coil has stopped working. Back in Italy, we will find out the cause was the condenser. To be sure, we replace both points and condenser. As to the coil we will use the spare one we have brought with us for the 150 D, taping it to the outside and fixing it with adhesive tape to one of the two tubes of the frame. This modification is absolutely necessary as the coil, requested from Italy, would have arrived too late and we couldn't afford such long stops. For some days the A been leaving behind it a thick blueish smoke, indicating that the oil seals are letting gear oil pass. Once we have left Port Hedland we stop on the Indian Ocean in Dampier, a nice place, in Carnavon, where you can eat the best lobsters on the planet, Monkey Mia and Karbarry, a wonderful place where the Murchison River flows into the Ocean after drawing picturesque bends and carving deep canyons into the landscape. In Kalbarry, too, the mechanic is busy and rude. MONKEY MIA DOLPHINS A 120 kms long road sides by blooming bushes connects the N.W. Hgw with this natural oasis, one of the most interesting in the world. A very strong wind makes our approach extremely slow and tiring, but what we are going to see in Monkey Mia will compensate for everything. In this deep bay, where they don't know of pollution, the ocean dolphins come close to the shore and let themselves be caressed by the tourists who then give them fish. They sometimes happen to come carrying fish for the tourists. The pelicans and other birds too are at home - you can approach them and take photos. We leave Monkey Mia after promising we will come back and stay longer. In the last few days the burning heat of Darwin and the fiery wind of the Great Sandy Desert are just a memory. We cross wide cultivated areas and villages, and small towns are more and more numerous. The climate is more temperate and it is necessary to wear a jacket in the morning and the evening. Geraldton is the firts big town, slightly less than 500 kms from the capital. Approaching Perth, near Cervantes, we will also visit "The Pinnacles", a desert full of stone pinnacles whose height ranges from a few centimetres to 4 metres. The landscape is really unusual and fascinating. By now the "A" gear cables have a certain clearance, so that we have to change gear by moving the lever with the foot. There is more and more smoke also. When we only have 75 kms to go to reach Perth, the Lambretta "A" breathers its last and nothing can bring it back to life. I try to reach Perth by towing the 150 D, but we soon give up, not wanting to wear the Lambretta out and because the traffic is now more intense as we apprach the town. It is dangerous to proceed at such a low speed. We feel like a climber who can't reach the peak of a mountain and has to stop a few metres before, even though our fantastic 5,000 kms long Australian experience is not diminished by this. Arriving in Freemantle, John, attracted by his curiosity towards our scooter on the back of the pick-up, greets us on his Vespa. Incredible - on his T-shirt we can see the symbol "Lambretta"! John, from Oxford, has been living in Freemantle for ten years and for some time he's been running a shop with a friend where they sell, repair and hire scooter. He is restoring an LI 150 Pacemaker of which he is the owner, and a customers LD. He is enthusiast to see such old Lambrettas and he invites us to visit his shop, then he will be our guide through the town. Freemantle is a haven about ten kms south of Perth, and it was the first western settlement in Western Australia. It is here a good number of Italian immigrants live. The town housed the most riotous prisoners in a round prison, now a historical building (The Round House). It is considered the most European looking of Australian towns. We leave the Lambrettas with Vincenzo Letizia, of Italian origin, who will look after them until we come back. This second Australian leg has not been the longest with its 5,000 kms, but it has surely been the most suffering, both for us and our Lambrettas. We have never relied so much on their untiring work as in this latest Lambretta experience, and we have never asked so much of them... and maybe we have asked too much. We will replace the A's oil seal and the gear cables. We will repair Vanes' Lambretta 150 D and then we will set off again, to cross Australia West to East, up to Sidney, more than 6,000 kms in 20-25 days. Nadia has never shown herself to be more up to situations as a travelling mate as she on this journey. She won't be with us on the last part of the journey for business reasons, and her untiring 150 LD will be ridden by our friend Jean Claude, also infected by the Australian bug.