Suddenly today the landscape turns to dry, a wasteland dotted with stunted trees sheltering dusty grazing cattle thin, apathetic, that barely bother to turn their head to watch us pass. The changing face of Australia. There is nothing in the range of tens of kilometers, even Route A1 – usually so busy –  is almost deserted. We stop for lunch in a little village that looks like stolen from a western movie set, a shabby little shop run by Sergio, second-generation Italian who speaks only English, a small miniature station, four houses. It feels like a frontier town. It feels drought. But in the evening we get back to the seaside, to have dinner on the beach. Another day full of emotions.