Taking in the local culture is a must-do for every trip. (Photo: David Peach) » More Photos

Pushing through the door, the smell of old wood and spilled beer hit a memory cord of cricket matches from childhood, where the women endlessly made sandwiches while the men swilled ale between innings. Inside, I found Dave receiving mouth to beer resuscitation at the bar. I opted for ice water, and for the next hour we desperately sucked cold air and fluids into our systems in an attempt to remove our body temperatures from the critical list.

“Now, did I ever tell you about the 1973 Isle of Mann TT?” Probably not – cause I wasn’t there! Neither was Stevo, one of our new best friends, but that didn’t stop him from slinging a fair bit of bullshit about anyway. Just how an Englishman comes to be a dead ringer for your typical Aussie Yobbo, sucking down beer like there was no tomorrow, bullshitting about how he marshaled at the Isle of Man (when, by my calculations he was eleven!) is anybody’s guess. But, with 115-degree temperatures outside, I would have listened to just about anything – so long as it was inside.

Saying goodbye to our all our new friends, we mounted up for a couple of hours of fast riding in the open countryside through the Upper Hunter Valley towns of Dungog and Gloucester, via the Buckets Way. Pulling into Tarree, home of Troy Bayliss for all you World Superbike fans, we parked at the first suitable pub and went in search of cold libation. Suitably refreshed, the beer had a two-fold effect of gluing our backsides to the seats and lubricating our laughing gear, as we relived a day of adventure on the roads of Australia. Beer number three was followed by dinner, which was followed by a short stumble to a room upstairs: Beer, bed and grub under the one roof, great choice, Peachy.

At $18 per night US, it wasn’t the Holiday Inn, and ducking under my sheet to avoid the squadrons of mosquitoes, I started to laugh again. Having déjà vu, I was taken back to the youth hostel in San Francisco where Dave and I stayed out all night drinking and telling jokes before sneaking in through a broken window, laughing uncontrollably and waking half the hostel. It didn’t make it any cooler, but did remind me why we were there and I dutifully passed out.

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