So we've got to Albany via Walpole and Denmark, and as its quite late were trying to work out where our book of free camp sites is taking us. As it doesn't seem to be going very well. It's getting late, petrol running low and were getting fed up of this heat beating down on us with no breeze! After the third campsite that doesn't seem to be where our book has lead us two it's time to take our last shot at the dirt road. After about 5km of bumps and jumps, in a 27 year old camper that seems to scream in agony everytime we go above 10km p/hr. We make it to a garage in good time too. The van has overheated we have no petrol, worse still as we stop water is pissing out of somewhere and morale hits a rock bottom low. Laws is hysterical saying he's selling the van and its s***. I try to calm the situation but its a difficult task when your still in the first week of your road trip and its gone wrong already. Still with a bit of advice from papa ball and a friendly old lady pointing us in the right direction we make it to a campsite two hours later. I must admit I lied just then, it's not a campsite it's a swamp and in a couple hours time I would realise why it was a big mistake to camp here. After cooking dinner and chilling out, we make the bed and turn the light on. All of sudden it's clear that one mosquito that was bothering us just a minute ago was actually about a hundred. After an hour battle involving deodorant cans, pillows, magazines, fire and sheep hurdling we give in and go to sleep. On awakening I realise not only am I covered in mosquito blood from my battle, but also they've taken a great deal of mine in return. 17 bites to be exact. As I've said before we never do things by planning. Because quite frankly, the spontaneous side of things always seem to work out... Esperance here we come.