hate summer?). And I was seventeen.
We drove from Perth to Laverton through numerous small towns in the WA outback, including Kalgoorlie. Along the way, I got my driver's licence. From Laverton, we headed into the desert, setting our sights on the opal-mining town of Coober Pedy in South Australia. Dad had calculated to the mililitre how much petrol we would need for that desert trek. We didn't take any extra.
I saw creatures in our headlights that looked like tiny veloceraptors. I still don't know what the heck those things were, but they were cool and...prehistoric-looking! I saw rolling hills and dusty dirt roads and wonderful trees. In short, I saw a side of my country I never knew existed. A side I can never forget.
My Dad is the kind of guy who likes to live on the edge. Prior to our departure from Perth, my mother's side of the family had concerns for my safety. Mum had travelled with Dad before, and she knew better than most what might be in store for me. Basically though, my Dad was notorious (and still is) for his love of living on the edge. Edge of a glacier, edge of a desert, edge of a war-torn region - you name it, he's been there. At seventeen, I'd heard the stories, but I soon learned that it's one thing to hear them and another to experience them yourself.