The first surprise of today is the cold: at 6am, at the alarm ringing, the air is definitely cool, but within a few hours everything is back to normal and at midday there are the usual 28 degrees, perhaps slightly more. We drive along a secondary road with very little traffic. Mount Garnet, the tiny village where we spent the night, is the only town in the next four hundred kilometers. The landscape is dead dry, dotted with withered trees and huge termite nests made of red earth. It’s the drought. It didn’t rain for three years – according to an old farmer we routed out of his ranch down the road – and the cattle starts to suffer it. The rainy season should start in November: hopefully this year our friend Don (and everyone else) will get rain… Tonight we sleep in a roadhouse, a kind of inn that combines gas station, restaurant and rest area with a few rooms and pitches for campers. Literally, in the middle of nowhere. We share the area with giant trucks: 3-4 trailers, 18-wheeler beasts. It’s the outback, baby!