Imagine the scene, 14 people from all over the world (well Switzerland, Austria and UK) on a holiday tour bus in one of the most remote places in North WA, we've just set up camp in the middle of Karijini National Park with just flies and bugs for company and started to cook our dinner then the Park Ranger appears and starts a conversation with our tour guide Ben: PR: G'day mate have you heard about the cyclone warning? Ben: Er no.. PR: Yeah mate, on it's way here from the coast Ben: How bad PR: Cat 3, be careful you could be stuck We all stare at each other with a look of sheer panic on our faces and then Abbo Dan says "but I've only got 4 litres of wine left..." Then it just rained and rained and rained and rained - this can not be Australia outback it's mean't to be 45 degrees in the shade. How did we get there? Well, upon leaving Exmouth at 6am!!! with the extremely gorgeous but equally extremely dim Ben our new tour guide in the brillant sunshine we drove for hours (again - and no surprise to those who keep up with me here - with a rotten hangover) to Karijini National Park. This park is famous for it's deep gorges and isolated swimming holes and flies, it's about 8 hours away from Exmouth going inland - it's in the outback. And yes it is spectactular. Day 2 saw us going into the Gorges trekking up and down cliffs and through streams and big puddles and fountains and swimming in some of the best natural water pools I've seen and it was probably one of my best days on the trip so far. Day 3 we're now on cyclone warning but Ben decides to take us all back down to the Gorges for a soaking and boy did we get one. The rain started and we all had to rush back up to the top and on the amount of fags I'm puffing at the moment, rushing to the top is not my strong point. So with the rain lashing, wind howling and gorges filling up quickly we have to leave Karijini behind and head further inland to the wonderful mining town of Newman - the perfect setting for a horror movie. With the prospect of camping looking not very feasible, Ben takes us all to the bottle shop then books us into a caravan site (or that's what they called it) but basically it was a big bit of dirt land with trailers and the kind of place that cyclones love. Harry, Dan, Caroline and I all shared a luxury trailer together - the kind with 1970's furniture that was broken and it eve had it's very own drunk Aboriginal outside asleep, but we make the best of it and have a drink (for a change). Morning and the prospects are not looking good as Cat 3 cyclone becomes Cat 4 and, with no phones working or no internet cafes to check out, rumours start early and are rife that we're going to have to stay here longer maybe 5 days - the look of horror on everyone's faces is a real picture and we all try to think of escape routes - do they have an airport, how far to swim, how easy would it be to steal one of those monster trucks... or failing escape what time does the bottle shop open and where's the bowling green? With much anticipation and fear we wait for real news on if we can escape and when road/weather report comes though it's still a bit hit and miss if we can make it through the roads but looking around at the alternative (more nights in Newman) we all decided to go for it and if we get stuck then come back to this desolate place. After a long drive we make it to our next destination, a farmstay somewhere in the middle of nowhere, but looking at the dark sky it seems the cyclone is following us so, before pitching our tents we ask Ben is it going to rain "Nah" he says confidently "maybe a shower but no rain"... thanks Ben, famous last words.... We're now stuck in the middle of nowhere on another horror movie set but this one has mad dogs added to the bill and a generator that turns off at 10pm and it does not rain but just simply pours down and when I wake up the next day I think I'm back at Glastonbury. Wading through the mud and puddles for breakfast I met Ralph (remember him??) who has been on rain alert all night and not slept and he's behaving even crankier than normal and I contemplate the pros and cons of suicide while once more we start to worry that we're not going to get away. Believe me at that stage we even had fond memories of Newman. But we pack up our muddy wet tents, and get going back to Perth and we're wet and filthy dirty but safe and sound and looking forward to a bottle of wine with a glass rather than a box of scampi jucie wine with a plastic mug. Despite all the above this was a great trip, and one that I'll always remember - not just for the things we saw and did which were brillant, but also because of the people I met - thanks Harry, Dan, Caroline and Kirsten for keeping me sane and my plastic mug filled with wine. I'm now back in Perth and guess what, IT'S RAINING....