Around Australia by Campervan: The Long Road

Three months, 18,000 kilometres, and a circuit that most Australians never complete. This is a account of driving around the country with a guide whose family knowledge turned distances into stories, and a practical companion for anyone planning the same journey.

The Road Begins With the Details

I spent three months driving a campervan around Australia with a friend who grew up here, and the first thing I learned was that nobody calls it a lap. They call it the big trip, or going around, or sometimes just the road. The second thing I learned was that most Australians have never done it. The third thing was that the stories worth hearing are not about the famous rocks or beaches, but about the distances between them, the weather that closes roads without warning, and the small courtesies that make the difference between a good day and a stranded one.

My guide friend learned to drive on red dirt roads in the Northern Territory. Their grandfather worked on cattle stations in the Kimberley, their mother grew up in a caravan park outside Broome, and their uncle still runs a roadhouse halfway between nowhere and somewhere else. What they know about this country came from people who lived in it before tourism made it a circuit, and what they shared with me over those months is the kind of knowledge you do not find in brochures. This is an attempt to write it down.

The Journey: East Coast to the Return South

The route around Australia is about 15,000 kilometres if you stay on the highway, and closer to 20,000 if you take the detours that make it worth doing. Most people go clockwise from Sydney or Melbourne because the prevailing weather moves that way and you meet the wet season in the north at the end instead of the beginning. We went anticlockwise because my friend wanted to see the Kimberley in May, which meant starting in autumn and finishing in spring, and dealing with the tropical build up in October when the humidity makes you understand why people leave.

The East Coast and the Turn Inland

We left Sydney in March and followed the coast north through towns that exist entirely for holiday traffic. My friend said their family used to drive this route every January to visit relatives in Queensland, and their father would point out which caravan parks had been there since the 1970s and which ones were new. The old ones have big trees and concrete slab sites. The new ones have wifi and no shade.

The coast is beautiful and expensive and full of people doing exactly what you are doing. We stayed two nights in a national park outside Coffs Harbour where the sites are gravel and the showers are cold, and it cost less than one night in a commercial park in Byron Bay. My friend said the trick is to look for the parks that do not advertise, the ones run by local councils or state forests, where the amenities are basic but the locations are better.

North of Brisbane the coast gets quieter. We stopped in a town called 1770 where Captain Cook landed. My friend told me a story their grandfather heard from an Aboriginal elder he worked with in the 1950s. The story was about the first time the local people saw a ship, and how they thought it was an island that had broken off and was floating past. They said the elder told it as a reminder that everyone sees the world through what they already know, and that first contact was a failure of imagination on both sides. I do not know if that story is widely told or specific to that place, but it stayed with me.

We turned inland at Townsville and drove west toward the red centre. This is where the trip stops being a holiday and starts being a commitment. The distances get longer, the towns get smaller, and the fuel gets more expensive.

The Red Centre and the Roads That Cross It

The drive from Townsville to Alice Springs takes two long days if you push it, or four comfortable ones if you stop in the mining towns and cattle stations along the way. We stopped in a place called Richmond where there is a fossil museum in an old building that used to be a picture theatre. The woman who ran it said her family had been there since the 1920s, and she showed us a plesiosaur skeleton that was found on a station 100 kilometres north. She said most people drive straight past on their way to the rock, and they miss the fact that this whole area was underwater 100 million years ago.

Alice Springs is the only real town in the centre, and it feels like it. There is a Woolworths and a Coles and a dozen caravan parks, and everyone who is driving around Australia stops here to resupply. My friend said their mother used to say that Alice is where you find out if your van is actually working, because if something is going to break, it breaks in the heat. We had the air conditioning regassed, the tyres checked, and the battery terminals cleaned, and all three needed it.

Uluru is 450 kilometres south, and the road is good, and the site is managed by the Traditional Owners, the Anangu people, who stopped the climb in 2019. My friend said their grandfather was there in the 1960s when tourists could still climb, and he said even then the Anangu were asking people not to. It took 50 years for the request to become a rule. We walked the base instead, which takes three hours and shows you the waterholes and the rock art and the shape of the land in a way the top never did.

The Top End and the Wet Season You Cannot Avoid

We drove north from Alice to Darwin on the Stuart Highway, which is the only sealed road that crosses the country from south to north. It is 1,500 kilometres of straight flat road through country that looks empty until you stop and realise it is full of birds and lizards and termite mounds taller than the van. My friend said their father used to drive trucks on this road in the 1980s, and he would see maybe ten vehicles a day. Now you see ten an hour, and most of them are caravans.

Darwin in April is hot and humid and about to get worse. The build up to the wet season starts in October and peaks in December, and by January the roads flood and the parks close and the only people left are the ones who live there. We had six weeks before that happened, which was enough to see Kakadu and Litchfield and the Tiwi Islands, but not enough to see them slowly.

Kakadu is big enough that you could spend a month there and still miss things. We spent four days and saw the waterfalls and the wetlands and the rock art at Ubirr and Nourlangie. The art is thousands of years old, and it is still there because the rock overhangs protect it from the rain. My friend said their mother once met a ranger who explained that the art is not just pictures, it is a record of knowledge, and that the people who painted it expected it to be read by people who understood the context. We did not understand the context, but we looked anyway, and tried to be respectful.

The Kimberley and the Roads That Require Attention

The Gibb River Road is 660 kilometres of red dirt and creek crossings and corrugations that shake the van hard enough to rattle the screws loose. It is only open in the dry season, from May to October, and it requires a four wheel drive and a decent level of mechanical confidence. We had neither, so we took the highway around through Broome and Kununurra, which is longer but sealed.

My friend said their grandfather worked on stations along the Gibb in the 1950s, before it was a tourist route, and he used to say that the Kimberley was the most beautiful and the most difficult country he ever saw. The ranges are old, older than the Himalayas, and they have been worn down by water and time into shapes that do not look like mountains anymore. The gorges are deep and narrow and full of water that stays cold even in the heat, and the rock is red and orange and purple depending on the iron content.

We stopped in a place called Tunnel Creek where you can walk through a cave system that goes under a range. The tunnel is 750 metres long and pitch black in the middle, and there is a pool halfway through where you have to wade up to your waist. My friend said there is a story about an Aboriginal resistance fighter named Jandamarra who used the tunnel as a hideout in the 1890s, and that he knew the country so well he could move through it at night without a light. The story is true, and it is taught in schools now, but for a long time it was not.

Broome is where the Kimberley meets the coast, and it is the last place to resupply before the long drive south into the Pilbara. The town has a pearling history and a multicultural population and a beach called Cable Beach where people drive cars onto the sand and watch the sunset. My friend said their mother lived here in the 1970s and worked in a caravan park that is still there, and that the town has changed completely but the light has not.

The West Coast and the Longest Straight Road

The drive from Broome to Perth is about 2,200 kilometres, and most of it is empty. The towns are small and far apart, and the fuel is expensive, and the road is straight enough that you start to hallucinate curves. My friend said their father used to drive this route for work, and he would count the roadhouses to stay awake. There are seven between Broome and Geraldton, and if you miss one you will know about it.

We stopped in a place called Coral Bay where the reef comes close to the shore and you can snorkel from the beach. The water is clear and full of fish and turtles, and the town is small enough that there is only one shop and one bakery and two caravan parks. My friend said their family used to camp here in the 1980s when there was nothing but a boat ramp and a toilet block, and that the development has been slow enough that it still feels remote.

Perth is the most isolated city in the world, and it feels like it. The nearest other city is Adelaide, 2,700 kilometres east, and in between there is nothing but the Nullarbor Plain. We stayed in Perth for a week to service the van and rest, and then we started the longest stretch of the trip.

The Nullarbor and the Straight Line Across

The Nullarbor is not actually flat. It is a limestone plateau that rises and falls in long slow waves, and the road follows the coast for 1,200 kilometres without turning. The name means no trees in Latin, and it is accurate. There are shrubs and saltbush and the occasional stand of bluebush, but no trees, and no shade, and no water unless you carry it.

My friend said their grandfather drove the Nullarbor in the 1960s when the road was still dirt, and it took three days and destroyed the car. Now it takes one long day or two comfortable ones, and the road is sealed, and there are roadhouses every 150 to 200 kilometres. The roadhouses sell fuel and food and accommodation, and they are expensive because they are the only option.

There is a section called the 90 Mile Straight, which is exactly what it sounds like. It is 146.6 kilometres of road without a curve, and it is the longest straight road in Australia. My friend said their father used to play a game where he would set the cruise control and see how long he could go without touching the wheel. The answer was about 30 seconds, because the road is not actually straight, it just looks straight, and the camber pulls you toward the edge.

We saw whales from the cliffs at the Head of Bight, where the southern right whales come to calve between June and October. The viewing platform is right on the edge of the cliff, and the whales are close enough that you can hear them breathe. My friend said their mother saw them here in the 1970s when there were only a few dozen left, and now there are thousands, and it is one of the few stories about Australia that gets better over time.

The South Coast and the Turn Back East

Adelaide is where the Nullarbor ends and the green country starts again. We stayed in a caravan park in Glenelg and walked on the beach and ate fish and chips, and it felt like civilization after three weeks of roadhouses. My friend said their family used to come here on holiday when they were a child, and that South Australia was always the state that felt most like home, even though they grew up in the Territory.

The Great Ocean Road is the most famous coastal drive in Australia, and it is beautiful and crowded and worth doing once. We drove it in two days and stopped at the Twelve Apostles and the Loch Ard Gorge and the towns in between. My friend said the road was built by returned soldiers after the First World War as a memorial and a job creation scheme, and that it took 14 years to finish. The plaques along the route tell the story, but most people do not stop to read them.

Melbourne is where the trip ended, three months and 18,000 kilometres after it started. We returned the van with a cracked windscreen, a dent in the back panel, and a list of repairs that would have cost more than the excess. The rental company looked at it and said it was normal wear for a long trip, and did not charge us. My friend said that was unusual, and that we were lucky.

Route Planning and Seasonal Windows

The standard around Australia route follows Highway 1, which loops the coast and connects all mainland state capitals. The circuit is roughly 14,000 to 16,000 kilometres on sealed highways alone. Add the worthwhile detours and you are looking at 18,000 to 22,000 kilometres, three to six months of travel, and a vehicle capable of handling long distances, extreme heat, and in some cases unsealed roads.

There is no single correct direction or timing. What matters is understanding which parts of the route have seasonal constraints and planning around them.

Seasonal Constraints by Region

The Top End and Kimberley: The wet season runs from roughly November through March. Roads flood, national parks close, humidity is extreme, and cyclones are possible. The dry season from May through September is the only practical window for most travellers. April and October are transitional months with variable conditions.

Central Australia: Summer temperatures from December through February regularly exceed 40 degrees Celsius. Vehicle air conditioning systems struggle, campgrounds are unpleasant, and the risk of heat related breakdowns increases. Autumn and spring are more comfortable. Winter days are warm and nights are cold.

Southern Australia: The southern coast and inland regions have a temperate climate with wet winters and dry summers. Summer is the peak travel season, but it is also bushfire season. Autumn and spring offer moderate weather and fewer crowds.

East Coast: Subtropical and temperate with year round access. Summer is hot and humid in Queensland. Winter is mild. School holidays in January, April, July, and September create booking pressure at popular campgrounds.

Route Overview

Verify all distances, road conditions, park access, and fuel availability with official sources before travel. Conditions change. Roads close. Distances are approximate.

Choose Your Route by Time Available

Two to Three Weeks: Choose one coast or one region. East coast from Sydney to Cairns. West coast from Perth to Broome. Red centre loop from Alice Springs. Tasmania. Do not attempt the full circuit.

Four to Six Weeks: Combine two regions. East coast and red centre. Top End and Kimberley. West coast and Nullarbor. You will need to drive longer days or skip smaller stops.

Two to Three Months: The full highway loop is possible at a sustainable pace. Plan for 200 to 300 kilometres per driving day, with rest days in larger towns. Expect to spend roughly one third of your time driving, one third setting up and packing camp, and one third exploring.

Four to Six Months: Add remote detours such as the Gibb River Road, Cape York Peninsula, the Oodnadatta Track, or extended stays in national parks. A slower pace allows for seasonal work, deeper exploration, and flexibility when roads close or weather changes.

Preparation and Vehicle Choice

The first decision is whether to buy or rent. Buying makes sense if you have three months or more and a budget for repairs. Renting makes sense if you have less time and want someone else to deal with breakdowns. We rented, and it was the right choice, because the van broke down twice and both times the company sent a replacement within 24 hours.

The second decision is what kind of vehicle. A two wheel drive campervan will get you around the highway loop and into most national parks. A four wheel drive will get you onto the Gibb River Road and the Cape York Peninsula and the Simpson Desert. We had a two wheel drive, and we missed some places because of it, but we also saved money on fuel and rental costs.

The third decision is how much space you need. A small van is easier to drive and park and cheaper to run. A big van has a shower and a toilet and a proper bed. We had a small van with no shower and no toilet, and we used campground facilities every day. My friend said their parents did the same trip in the 1980s in a van with no fridge and no air conditioning, and they survived, but they would not do it again.

Camping and Etiquette

There are three kinds of camping in Australia. Free camping, which is allowed in some rest areas and public land. Campgrounds with basic facilities, which cost between 10 and 20 dollars a night. And caravan parks with power and water and amenities, which cost between 30 and 60 dollars a night. We used all three, and each has its place.

Free camping is legal in some states and illegal in others, and the rules change depending on whether you are on council land, state forest, national park, or private property. The general rule is that if there is a sign saying no camping, you cannot camp. If there is no sign, you probably can, but you should check with the local council or the WikiCamps app, which is more reliable than Google.

My friend said their uncle has a rule about free camping, which is that you leave the site cleaner than you found it, you do not use the area as a toilet, and you move on after one night unless the signs say otherwise. We followed that rule, and we never had a problem. The one time we stayed two nights in a rest area, a ranger came by and told us to move, and we did, and that was the end of it.

Campgrounds with basic facilities are usually in national parks or state forests, and they have toilets and picnic tables and sometimes a tap. They do not have showers or power, and you need to be self sufficient. We stayed in these campgrounds about half the time, and they were always quieter and cheaper than the caravan parks.

Caravan parks are the default option in towns, and they range from basic to luxurious. The basic ones have hot showers and a laundry and a camp kitchen. The luxurious ones have a pool and a playground and wifi and a convenience store. My friend said their mother worked in caravan parks for years, and the thing that annoyed her most was people who booked a powered site and then ran their generator all night because they did not know how to plug in.

There is an unwritten rule in campgrounds that you do not walk through someone else's site, you do not make noise after 9pm, and you do not leave your rubbish for someone else to deal with. My friend said their father used to say that the quality of a campground is determined by the people in it, not the facilities, and that you can tell within an hour whether it will be a good night or a bad one.

Road Realities

The thing about driving in Australia is that the distances are real. It is 3,000 kilometres from Sydney to Darwin, and most of that is empty. The towns are small and far apart, and the services are limited. You cannot assume there will be fuel or food or water at the next stop, because the next stop might be 200 kilometres away, or closed, or out of stock.

Road trains are a fact of life on remote highways. They are trucks with two or three trailers, and they are 50 metres long, and they travel at 100 kilometres per hour, and they do not slow down for anything. My friend said their grandfather used to say that road trains own the road, and you get out of their way, not the other way around. When you see one coming, you pull over and let it pass. When you overtake one, you make sure you have at least two kilometres of clear road, because they are long and they create a wind blast that can push a light vehicle off the road.

Wildlife is the other hazard. Kangaroos and emus and cattle wander onto the road at dawn and dusk, and they do not move for vehicles. My friend said their father hit three kangaroos in 40 years of driving, and all three times it was at dusk, and all three times he was going under 80 kilometres per hour. The advice is to slow down at dawn and dusk, watch the sides of the road, and if you see an animal, brake but do not swerve. Swerving is how you roll the vehicle.

We hit a kangaroo outside Coober Pedy at sunset. It came out of the scrub on the left and jumped in front of the van, and there was no time to stop. The impact broke the headlight and cracked the bumper, and the kangaroo died instantly. My friend said it happens, and there is nothing you can do except report it to the ranger if you are in a park, and move the body off the road if you can. We could not move it, so we left it, and by the next morning it was gone. They said the wedge tailed eagles and the goannas clean up the roads faster than any council crew.

Practical Details You Will Need

Fuel and Costs

Fuel prices vary wildly depending on where you are. In the cities, petrol costs about 1.80 to 2.00 dollars per litre. In remote areas, it can be 2.50 or more. Diesel is usually cheaper, but not always. My friend said their uncle runs a roadhouse in the Territory, and he sets his prices based on what it costs to get the fuel there, not what it costs in the city. A tanker delivery to a remote roadhouse can add 50 cents per litre to the price.

We spent about 4,000 dollars on fuel over three months, driving a two wheel drive diesel van that averaged about 10 litres per 100 kilometres. A petrol van would have cost more. A four wheel drive would have cost significantly more.

Water and Waste

Water is available at most campgrounds and caravan parks, but not all of it is drinkable. Some towns in the outback have bore water that is safe but tastes of minerals. Some rest areas have no water at all. My friend said their grandmother taught them to treat every tap as the last one, and to fill up completely every time. We carried 80 litres and refilled at every opportunity, and we still ran low twice.

Waste disposal is straightforward in caravan parks, which have dump points for grey water and black water. It is less straightforward in free camping areas, where you are expected to carry your waste until you reach a proper facility. My friend said the rule is simple. If you make it, you carry it. That includes rubbish, which you bag and store until you reach a bin. Leaving rubbish at a free camp site is how free camping gets banned.

Connectivity and Navigation

Phone signal is reliable in cities and towns, and non existent everywhere else. We went days without signal in the Kimberley, the Nullarbor, and the centre. My friend said their father used to navigate by paper maps and road signs, and that GPS has made people lazy. We used both, and the paper map was more reliable.

The WikiCamps app is worth the small cost. It shows campgrounds, rest areas, dump points, water taps, and fuel stops, and it works offline. My friend said their mother used a printed campground directory in the 1990s, and it was 300 pages long and out of date within a year. The app updates constantly and includes reviews from other travellers.

Weather and Fire Alerts

Check the Bureau of Meteorology website each morning for weather forecasts and warnings. In summer, check state fire service websites for current fire danger ratings and park closures. Fires can close roads and parks with little notice. Have a backup plan.

We were diverted by a fire closure in South Australia. The park we intended to visit was closed overnight and the highway was rerouted. We backtracked 100 kilometres to find an alternative campground. My friend said this happens every summer and the only way to manage it is to check alerts before you drive and remain flexible.

Border Quarantine

Some states have quarantine inspection points on major highways to prevent the spread of fruit fly and other pests. You may be required to dispose of fresh fruit, vegetables, and honey at the border. Inspections are random but fines for non compliance are substantial. The simplest approach is to eat or dispose of fresh produce before crossing state lines.

Permits

Some national parks, Aboriginal land, and remote roads require permits or bookings in advance. Examples include the Tiwi Islands, some sections of Arnhem Land, and certain station roads in the Kimberley. Check park and land management websites before travelling to remote areas. Do not assume access is open without a permit.

Before You Leave: A Checklist

What the Road Actually Teaches

There is a moment about six weeks into a long trip where you stop thinking about the destination and start thinking about the day. You wake up and you make coffee and you check the tyres and you drive until you find a place that looks interesting, and then you stop. You do not check the map to see how far you have come or how far you have left. You just stop.

My friend said their grandfather told them that the road teaches you to pay attention. Not to the big things, but to the small ones. The way the light changes in the afternoon. The sound of the wind in the mulga. The taste of the water from different taps. The way people talk in different towns. They said he learned more about Australia from driving across it slowly than he ever learned from living in one place.

I think he was right. The things I remember from the trip are not the famous landmarks, though I remember those too. They are the small things. The way the stars looked from a rest area on the Nullarbor. The taste of the bread from a bakery in a town I cannot remember the name of. The conversation with a man at a campground in the Kimberley who had been travelling for two years and had no plans to stop. The feeling of waking up in a different place every few days and not knowing what the day would bring.

My friend said their family has a saying, which is that Australia is too big to see and too small to ignore. You cannot see all of it, but you can see enough of it to understand that it is not one place, it is many places, and that the people who live here have been learning it for 60,000 years, and that three months in a campervan is just enough time to realise how much you do not know.