I got talking to another road train driver last night. Am beginning to think my interest in trucks is bordering on the obsessive. He was a really interesting guy who'd lived a tough life - he was one of the last of the Stolen Generation and spent most of his childhood in an orphanage - but was positive and cheery. He drove a 'cabover' truck (one of the European flat-fronted ones as opposed to the 'bonneted' primary movers) and had been away from his home in Brisbane for a month, driving from city to city doing a giant loop of the country. He was waiting to pick up a load before the last leg back down the coast in a convoy with a 'pilot' at the front because they were transporting wide loads.

He was getting paid $50 per night away from home and 29 cents per kilometre, which isn't as much as I thought truckers earned. Apparently he hasn't hit any wildlife in years because he uses a 'shoo-roo' - a buzzer that you fit to the front of the vehicle which emits an high pitched whistle inaudible to humans that scares off all animals in its path. It only costs $14.95 and is widely available so I can't understand why more people don't use it. If you're reading this Mary, start expecting a shoo-roo for your next birthday, mate!

The skipper on the boat in Townsville had family in the trucking business and he told me that contrary to popular belief, drivers generally don't use any stimulants and they aren't forced to drive very long hours, though sometimes they are offered bonuses for early arrival. Well, the bloke I met last night told another - more hair-raising - story about rampant coke use and ubiquitous speeding. He also let me in on the secret of how to avoid being picked up on the cameras set up to log the amount of time a truck has taken to get from A to B. But he vehemently denied the peeing-in-the-slipstream story I'd been told, so I guess the jury is out on that one?

Am taking the overnight bus down to Hervey Bay tonight. It takes thirteen hours on the coach, but I'm sure my friend from last night and his colleagues could manage it in four and be back up here to reload with time for a nap and a couple of lines in between! A lot of Greyhound passengers take woolly blankets and cushy pillows to soften the journey, but I can't really afford or have space to carry stuff like that, so I have to pretend I'm hardcore and don't mind banging my head against the cold window as I try to snatch a few minutes' sleep here and there. In fact - don't mind it?- I enjoy it! Bravado intact, I'm off...