We're back on the road again! We are about to begin Part II of our Australian road tour which will take us all the way to Perth on the southwest coast of Australia. We will end our trek in Perth by late July, some 30,000 (bumpity bump bump) kilometers from now.

At that time the Landy will be shipped from Perth to South Africa while we head back to the States, hopefully pounds lighter and still in good humor. Traveling as we do, just the two of us, on mostly rugged roads in remote terrain with just the essentials in clothing and survival gear, you can imagine some of stresses involved. You get to know someone pretty well after 24-hours a day of traveling together under such conditions.

Indeed, the very nature of this trek requires us to maintain solid personal and emotional boundaries in order to get things done. There is no room in this scenario for huffing and puffing or temperamental displays of any kind. We have to be above that. There is also no room for bossy behavior which can escalate any inherent environmental stresses which can be arduous enough at times.

One must learn to filter emotions so that only the upbeat, lighthearted, humorous, gentle, and user-friendly emotions surface. The other darker, steamier emotions can't be allowed to surface. Fortunately we've both been pretty good about all of this and our images show it.

On the road one must learn to share and share alike, from lithium batteries to the sparse toilet paper reserves and the single bush shovel which is sometimes urgently needed at the exact same moment.

There's lots of room, however, for giggles and belly laughs and also for wise philosophising and storytelling, maybe even for a few French lessons. I brought my trusty flute along for this leg of the trek so that I can make music in the cold night air in the middle of the Simpson Desert. Can't you see me now, sitting on top of the Landy playing my heart out to the stars?! Of course, we also have 300 or so musical CD's along with us in case the flute stuff gets a little old (cough)...opera, jazz, vocalists, moody blues, you name it we have it, a tune for every temperament. There is nothing quite like good music to lift the spirits.

Although my recent time in the States was far from restful it was a much-needed respite from the hours and hours of remote traveling in Nicole's diesel-driven, overloaded, top-heavy and extremely noisy and occasionally cranky Land Rover. Endless days on Cape York's roads from hell left me battered and bruised, just as back home in Williamsburg, Virginia I also felt bruised and stiff from long hours of bending over a light table perusing thousands of slides.

And now I am sitting here, about to start all of this all over again??! Maybe I should see a shrink...

All kidding aside, I really am looking forward to Part II of our trek because picture-taking is what it's all about. Nicole has planned a wonderfully diverse photo itinery for us over the next four and a half months and I'm anxious to get started. I love every minute with my Nikon in hand, whether I am viewing gorgeous scenery or primitive Australian species of flora or fauna, or documenting a native rodeo or awesome 45,000 year old Aboriginal cave paintings. Everything we do and see here in Australia is an adventure and every morning I wake up wondering what new and exciting things will befall us.

We brought back some really exciting images from Part I of our trek. Shooting with others can be difficult, as many professional photographers have experienced, but Nicole and I work well together in a gamely competitive kind of way. When we are shooting we are constantly comparing meter readings and focal lengths while trying to stay out of each other's hair in other ways. Of course, we make mistakes sometimes but even those are worthy of a few good laughs.

Yesterday, for example, on our first official shoot on this leg of the trek, Nicole labored away at scenes of Captain Cook's First Landing at Botany Bay, only to discover that she didn't have any film in her camera. I, of course, was officially noncommittal about it all in deference to an older, and certainly more experienced, shooter.