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One traveller's day-by-day account of a year-long journey through Japan, China, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Malaysia, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand, America and Canada

foolishly hadn't yet made their escape. Feeling all the more better for that, I was keen to check out the Yellow River, right by our hostel. It wasn't at all yellow. I was, however, excited to see the huge sign advising you not to take a dip unless you were OK with the idea of losing a limb or four. This river belonged to the deadly "salties" - saltwater crocodiles.

Scanning the water from the safety of the metal walkway, I saw something breaking the water. Motionless. Was it just a stick? Well, how many motionless sticks suddenly move at right angles to the current towards the far bank? Chuffed I'd seen a croc, if not up close (fine by me frankly), we got back on the road.

A few crisp and honey mustard sandwiches later, of which Hyunjung had started an amazing production line in the back seat, we arrived at Noolangie, announced by stunning jutting rock formations looming into view beside the previously featureless road. It was another rock art site, but the star of the show for me here was the flame-coloured rock overhang.

The flies were starting to get my goat. I was convinced they liked my overweight, sweaty presence more than anyone else there. Today, albeit on separate occasions, I had one in my ear, one up a nostril and one on my eye. They continually land on your face and tag rides on