Of Death Traps and Kings Cross

Hello friends!

I’m going to stop apologising for infrequent updates now, im just lazy that’s the way it is. Also recently I cracked the heel in my left foot so now I’m in a cam walker, isn’t jumping from high fences in other countries fun? Oh and we’re going to see Green Day tonight at the Sydney cricket ground which we are rather looking forward to. Anyway onward:
As of Wednesday the 7th of December we are now the proud owners of a Mazda E2200 camper van. That’s right, after a chaotic three weeks of searching we finally found the van for us. We haven’t named him yet, but we will soon and I’d love to hear some suggestions.
During our first week in Sydney we decided that buying a van for our impending journey would be the least of our problems as adverts for endless Toyota Hi-ace’s (which in retrospect may have been adverts for the same Hi-ace) greeted our every turn. Eventually we chose one we liked, rang the owners and set up a meeting. My distrust immediately kicked in when we discovered the owners were Dutch. I had an unfortunate incident in Amsterdam a year ago where I went into a café for a quick coffee and muffin and ended up being chased out of the shop and down the road for several miles by a 500ft turquoise chinchilla wearing a bowler hat. Anyway the van was a blue Hi-ace and seemed to be exactly what we were looking for in that it could go from A – B and didn’t explode. Thinking back, on those terms we could have easily been looking for a shopping trolley or a bald eagle.
Luckily we acted on advice given to us by a relative to get an NRMA inspection which would list everything that is wrong with the van and roughly how much it will cost to make it roadworthy. Great we thought. The van seems to be fine so the inspection will just back that up and then we can buy it safe in the knowledge that it won’t kill us. You can imagine how eager I was to read the report and find that the van is in wonderful condition and we should buy it right away, you can also imagine my surprise at reading the initial comments, which said:
“Vehicle is dangerous/unsafe and does not comply with RTA rules. Repairs may require body to be replaced”
It then goes on to say that the mechanic took it for a very limited road test, as he was too scared to actually drive it around on the road. Needless to say we didn’t buy this van and we went away feeling proud that we had avoided that particular manhole. The Dutch people went away disappointed but when I asked what they would do with It now, they told me that three Irish guys were coming that afternoon to have a look so they’d flog it to them instead.

Over the next week we looked at several vehicles and met many salesmen and fellow backpackers, talking to these people was a learning experience indeed and we found out many a titbit of information from them. We noticed that every van we met seemed to be from the early 80’s, at first this was a little surprising but we quickly found out that it is in fact illegal for camper vans in Australia to be under the age of 16. All vans manufactured here are driven into the Nullarbor and left to rust quietly over the next 16 years. This is considered a rite of passage for the vans and the more rust that is acquired, the more stable and reliable the van. At least this is what we assume as the price of vans seem to be directly proportional to the amount of rust on the body. Some car traders go into the Nullarbor to poach wild camper vans and simulate their age by pouring desert sand into the gearbox and scraping claw marks along the side. Do not support the illegal underage van trade.

When backpackers are ready to sell their vehicle and continue on without it, they are rounded up and incarcerated in the lower levels of a car park in Kings cross until they have managed to sell it on to an unfortunate soul. This is known as the Kings cross car market and it is here that we came into possession of our Mazda. We first entered the car market after being in Sydney for about two weeks. We found out about it on the Internet and after talking to one of the staff on the phone decided it was worth a visit. Upon entry to the car park we take an elevator down to level 2 and as soon as we take a step out the eyes lock onto us. These people are the inmates. On our left there is anything between 3 and 6 Ford Falcons lined up with tables in between. They sit around these tables, dishevelled and tired in appearance there is no telling how long they have been here. Maybe days, maybe weeks. Their eyes follow us past, compelling us to show a glimmer of interest in their vehicle. Further along on the right is a simular set up except instead of Ford Falcons the bays are filled with camper vans – exactly what we are looking for, although these ones are rather on the expensive side. Straight ahead is a ping-pong table, the endless clicking of a game going on between two inmates cutting through the stagnant air like a knife. It is the only form of entertainment made available to them and is perhaps symbolic to the inane repetitiveness of life in the Kings Cross car market. Nearby a man wearing shorts and a blue T-shirt with a Kings cross car market logo spots us. He grins and makes his way over. This man loves his job.

The staff at the Kings cross car market are not there to help people sell cars, they get nothing when a vehicle is offloaded and an inmate escapes to continue life as a backpacker, in fact their only role seems to be to tell potential buyers all the reasons why they should buy not that van, and why this one isn’t worth anything near what the people are asking for it. They do this so that when someone finally does shell out far too much cash for a death trap, they don’t come back crying to the car market complaining that they weren’t warned. The fact that sending a backpacker home empty handed and keeping one of the inmates and their vehicle incarcerated for another day is one of the moments they live for is highly irrelevant. This is obviously great for the potential buyer as it means we get top-notch impartial advice for free. This is terrible news for the seller as it means an uphill struggle to sell anything. It dawns on us later that it is likely we will one day live here, trying to sell our van and realise that the grinning man in the blue shirt may not be a long term friend. The man in the blue shirt informs us that we should never ever under any circumstances to buy a VW kombi as apparently in the event of a breakdown it is virtually impossible to find spare parts and our only option would be to ransack somebody else’s van. Being a VW kombi is the equivalent of being the complete balls in the 70’s and then waking up 30 years later and realising nobody wants to talk to you because you still wear flares and call yourself Disco Joe.
In the end we decide to come back in a weeks time as nothing there really appeals to us. The inmates watch us leave with sad eyes. They long for the freedom we flaunt and think back longingly on the days when their lives weren’t governed by a camper van.
So on our return we are greeted by a different man in a blue shirt with the same old grin. This time we are directed to another corner of the car park where we see our Mazda parked next to a loan backpacker looking solemn. She’s a nice enough girl, in her late 20’s and travelling with her boyfriend who’s at work at the time (we never meet him). She answers all our questions and the van seems to be perfect for us. It’s on sale for $5500 and comes with all the usual camping stuff and accessories and we decide that we really like it and after having a conversation with blue man who suggests we make an offer and then get an inspection to tell us how much the necessary repairs on it will be we offer the nice lady $4500. To our shock she accepts immediately, this may be because it’s far more than she expected to get, or maybe she just really really wants to get out of kings cross car park. In any case we pay out $150 to get a pre-purchase inspection done at the car park and she drives off to the next level to have it done. We are left staring at the ceiling and it is there that we see it all. All over the walls, and the ceilings. In fact over the entire level everywhere except the floor are written hundreds of messages from previous backpackers once imprisoned in Kings cross selling vehicles. More haunting than this are the tally charts that come with some of them. The most I counted on one was 15. The messages mostly consist of good luck messages to the next people in certain spots but some are poignant and emotional messages from those who have triumphed over adversity and sold their beloved companions. Sadder still are those messages from those who gave up before their time was up. After seeing the writing on the walls I decide that more than anything I want out of that hellish place.

The inspection shows the van to need over $2000 worth of repairs, but luckily it’s got Western Australian registration which means that you don’t even have to get the van officially inspection before you can renew the Rego (the equivalent of a British MOT). You just need to send them the paperwork and they send it back. This sort of regulation is probably in place because Western Australia is made up of 70% things that will kill you and nobody dares go there without a team of Aboriginal trackers, 50 or more spare tyres and military backup. Unless you’re a Pom in which case you just drive there in a rickety camper van.
Later on we take it to have the repairs done at a trusted mechanics, he informs us that it definitely doesn’t need anywhere near that many repairs and does most of the work for $340. So now we are roadworthy and ready to go travelling! We will be off on our journey on the 5th of January, all the way between Sydney and Perth, which is around 5000KM’s. Hopefully our new friend will carry us there without losing too many bits along the way.