When we arrived in Port Augusta, Katy noticed that she appeared to be developing a slight cold. Not put off, we arranged to have the car serviced in a couple of days time and then prepared for a visit to the Flinders Ranges, a mountainous area which we both fancied liked the look of.

With Katy fortified by a simple cold remedy - for some reason they don't appear to sell Day Nurse or Night Nurse over here - we set off on the 120-km drive over attractive hilly terrain and through rustic country towns.

By the time we reached the Wilpena information centre/campground, however, Katy was feeling decidedly poorly. We took various leaflets about various walks and scenic drives, but things weren't looking good. By the time we had finished putting up the tent, the "slight cold" appeared to have developed into the flu.

Instead of a three-hour yomp to view the crater-like Wilpena Pound, Katy slept in the tent while I read or played sudoku. In the evening, we managed a 20-minute stroll around the wooded campground where we saw some kangaroos up close, but that wasn't what we had come for. We decided we would try again the next day, or at least go on one of the scenic drives.

Come the next morning, however, the patient was practically on the critical list so all we did was pack up and drive back to Port Augusta. Katy felt relieved that when we arrived she could lie down and have a good rest… or so she thought!

Having checked in at our campsite, I got back into the car to drive over to our pitch. I turned the ignition key but the only response was a feeble noise somewhere between a click and a whirr. Coincidentally, this was similar to the sound of Katy's breathing, but was unfortunately coming from under the car's bonnet.

I called the rescue service, the NRMA, and the operative's swift arrival was equally swiftly followed by his diagnosis that the alternator was broken. We mentioned that Ramsey was being serviced the next day and the NRMA guy told us that the garage would have to get the alternator fixed by a specialist auto-electrician in any case. He then volunteered to take us to one of the "only" two in town to get it done straight away. Feeling harassed and unwell in various measures, we agreed. That was a mistake.

The auto-electrician looked us up and down and we could almost see him thinking "helpless pom tourists = money". He wouldn't even attempt a repair on the grounds that it wouldn't last and would be almost as costly as a new alternator. He kept up this stance even when we explained that we were only in the country for a few more weeks so didn't need a brand-new part - especially when we found out it would cost nearly $500. I quietly sloped off and phoned the garage due to be carrying out the service and they said a repair should be fine and a lot less than that.

We decided we were just being given the hard sell, so extricated ourselves from the clutches of the frothing salesman. By this time, however, the electricity which he had poured into our battery initially was almost gone and we had to get the NRMA out again. The rescue guy was far from happy and muttered dark words about how he had got us to a garage the first time. Maybe so, but we weren't exactly happy about what had happened there and became even less amused when all he did was jump-start us and leave us to get back to the camp on our own.

We nursed the sick Ramsey to within half a mile of home before he conked out. We had to push him round a corner and into a pub car park - well, every cloud has some kind of sliver lining I suppose. We arranged to leave it there overnight and to be picked up by the servicing garage in the morning. In the meantime, I walked back to the camp and found a very kind member of staff who came down in a ute (think of a small pick-up truck) and brought the pair of us plus tent, bedding, clothes, laptop etc back.

As you might have guessed, Katy was feeling even less well that she was before. She made it out to the pub for something to eat that night - all our food was in the car of course - but could barely manage half a dozen mouthfuls because swallowing had become really painful. So after finishing my roast lamb dinner, I had a "dessert" of her vegetarian korma. Well, I felt obliged to make it look like she'd eaten something!

The next day Ramsey went in for a service and had his alternator repaired - for half the sum quoted for a new one. We have our fingers crossed that it lasts until we leave!

Katy, meanwhile, continued to decline and by now had developed disgusting white pustules in the back of her throat, indicating an infection rather than flu. We found a medical practice and threw ourselves on their mercy. Katy got to see a doctor within about 20 minutes and was prescribed some antibiotics. Once those started to get into her system, she gradually improved, though it took more than a week before she was completely better.

In the meantime, I was left to amuse myself while she rested. What could I do? Well, I was in Port Augusta so the name itself suggested the answer - play golf! Ok, so it wasn't the Augusta National course in Georgia, but the Port Augusta course proved to have very lush fairways and welcoming greens. It was very strange to play on grass after the Nullarbor, but after a few holes I was getting along fine and played reasonably competently over the back nine. And I didn't have a single ball stolen by crows!

Richard