All in all, an epic National Park fail and 100kms of fuel burned.

And so we did the 750m return walk to look at the calcite flows, swatted a few flies and drove the 50km back to the highway. It doesnвЂ™t take a genius to guess what happened next we rounded a bend in the track and abruptly arrived at some padlocked gates, we could go no further. Having checked the signs on the way in we knew that most of the park was closed but the walk we had in mind at Bullita was still open, even though the campsite alongside it was not. We did rise early and drove the 50km or so along an unsealed road to where we had planned to walk. So we spent most of the evening sheltering in the air conditioning and hit the hay early in anticipation of a dayвЂ™s exploration in the National Park. It turns out that bats really really smell and Timber Creek has an abundance of them. Having paid and pitched up, we noticed there was a rather unpleasant aroma around the place. Home for the night was the only town on the route Timber Creek, which had one campsite and a slightly ropey looking bar. With the temperature in the mid 40s we didnвЂ™t attempt any of the walks but made a plan to tackle them early the following morning. We entered Gregory (Judbarra) National Park, through which the highway runs, and stopped at a few points to admire the views. It was a long day of driving with the landscape gradually changing from scrub land and becoming hillier and more undulating with large sandstone ranges appearing on the landscape. Back on the Savannah Way we stopped in Katherine, ostensibly for some supplies but really because we wanted to pop in to our favourite Visitor Centre one last time. The previous version was just great, but I think I like this new strain even more.We were on the road surprisingly early from Adelaide River, given that weвЂ™d enjoyed the innвЂ™s hospitality a bit more than we had intended to. People tell me IвЂ™m only just now beginning to get a taste of what real Australian weather is. And there were no young kids about, so it couldnвЂ™t have been вЂthatвЂ™, before anyone suggests it. I got a taster the other week when I dunked into the ocean, half expecting my arms and legs to freeze over and snap off, only for a beautifully warm current to wash over me. Wet? You really call that wet? With El Nino making a return this year, weвЂ™ve been promised drier and warmer weather. If, on occasion, that is the sight that greets me in Sydney, it doesnвЂ™t get me down thoughts of brighter days prevail and that sodden depression doesnвЂ™t have the chance to set in at all.ДЄnd to think that these are my thoughts after spending what has been, by all accounts, a pretty miserable (really, miserable?) couple of years under the influence of La Nina, the cold and wet weather cycle.

It makes you want to crawl back into bed and, if you do make it out, it can easily pervade for the rest of the day. The sinking feeling that follows a morning peek out of the curtains to reveal yet another overcast, grey and wet day is not to be sniffed at. The reason why Aussies think everyone in the UK is obsessed by the weather probably comes down to the fact that it genuinely, and adversely, affects people. To be honest, IвЂ™m not even sure if it is a tunnel at all. In fact, the tunnel isnвЂ™t even that long. And surely itвЂ™s that feeling that helps breed a rosier outlook on life in Australia, where there always seems to be light at the end of the tunnel. ItвЂ™s a liberating feeling not to be confined by something you have no control over. Things can be planned in advance without too much regard for the weather forecast outdoor things, like barbeques, picnics, bike rides, childrenвЂ™s parties and garden weddings.

Unlike in the UK, where once winter sets in you have no choice but to hunker down and survive the next three or four months (sometimes even longer) through gritted teeth and with the help of a hot water bottle and an umbrella, here the next nice day is just around the corner. The reason for this is two-fold: first, as a foreigner, I canвЂ™t help but feel a little bit like IвЂ™m on permanent holiday (and why let the small matter of rainfall spoil a holiday) and second, more pertinently, I know any inclement patches of weather are unlikely to last too long. On the contrary, even the wettest of soggy spells in Sydney can do little to dampen my spirits. But this Englishman isnвЂ™t here to uphold the stereotype and whinge about it (even though this is being written in the middle of an epic three-day rainstorm that has soaked the Eastern Suburbs to its very core). Photo: Georgie GavaghanIt is with a certain sense of inevitability that the time has finally come for this column to focus attention on every PommieвЂ™s supposed favourite topic: the weather.

Pommie wash