Come fly with me

The flies in the outback are on a mission. To make your life as miserable as possible. They are vicious little buggers and take delight in getting in your ears, up your nose, behind your sunnies and if you are really lucky you might just happen to swallow one. One suicidal fly took a dive in my morning coffee. That will teach him. However, there is a particularly nasty batch of flies up at Lake Eyre North. These little shites have a hone in skill second to none. After one and a half hours of driving on the track, which had been washed out in places and took monsieur's 4wd driving skills to a whole new level (yes, we had one nose down bog, but he managed to back out of there without too much difficulty). We got out to have a look at Lake Eyre, the biggest inland lake which is pretty much empty all year round, although when it does fill up it holds five times more water than the Sydney Harbour. And bam! We are just covered in flies. They are so bad we walk to the lake shore, shoot off a few photos and then hot foot it back to the van. Oh, did I mention that monsieur had left his window open. You can imagine what the inside of the van was like. And one other thing – MONSIEUR HATES FLIES!! At home he is the king of the fly spray and keeps the insecticide companies in business all year round. Is that some form of poetic justice maybe?