The Long Ride South...and, erm, back.
In Darwin, we crossed our fingers and toes as the very serious quarantine lady inspected the bike's guts with a torch. I toyed with screaming at her about the five days of bike-washing we had suffered. Thankfully I then untoyed with it. She passed us, but not without another mini-jet wash. We were free to go.... after we had put in the new starter motor. Our Fellow Overlanding Brits and the Also Overlanding Icelandics got through inspection OK too, but poor Sven and his old Landrover then had to be towed home. Their luck seemed even worse than our starter motor problems, with an entirely wrecked gearbox and engine. We pitied them. Had we known what lay in store, we would have been far more empathetic... being towed out of the port. There we were, in Darwin, with the bike, having driven from England. It felt like it should be a momentous occasion. As it was, it was a little worrying. The bi...