Long-distance Clara, eat your heart out

I can’t tell if I’m meant to be John Candy or Steve Martin, but I’ve had a bit of a Planes, Trains and Automobiles-esque escapade all in the name of coming to visit the farm of my Aussie bestest, Rob.

Rob is a fellow Nuffielder who farms a few sheep and grows a bit of canola and wheat on his 2000ha farm in Kojonup, about three hours south-east of Perth.

Obviously as some kind of penance for the near-death experience he claims he had when I picked him up from Heathrow last year (or perhaps as some kind of hint that he didn’t actually want me to visit), Rob decided to make it as difficult as possible for me to get to his house.

Lifts with family members fell through,  while a visit to a bus station resulted in me being told by a miserable biddy at the ticket office that “you can’t just come to the bus station and expect to get on a bus, y’know. The next one leaves on Thursday.”

Worried I was going to have to spend the rest of my life in Perth’s various travel interchanges, Kojonup local (and my new hero) Mick stepped in. Mick is a lorry driver and had been making a grain delivery and fertiliser collection in the city. I don’t know  whether he really appreciated having a random English girl in his cab for three hours, but I had a great time checking out the bush and rock-strewn farmland from such a high vantage point:

canola stubble
I’m not sure how Long-Distance Clara managed it, as being only 5ft 3″ doesn’t make me the ideal person to be a trucker. There’s no lady-like way of getting up to the cab when it’s 8ft off the ground and the ladder to the lorry door is about 3ft away from it. Still, it gave Mick something to laugh at…

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