Life on pause: the week our road trip broke down in Exmouth

They say road trips are all about the journey, not the destination. But I doubt they meant “the journey” would involve sitting on the side of the road, staring at a dead car, and frantically googling the nearest mechanic. What we thought would be the best days of our trip quickly turned into the biggest test of our patience, resilience, and determination.

Is this the end of the adventure, or just the start of the comedy? Keep reading to find out.

We were just 40 kilometers outside of Exmouth, buzzing with excitement about our plan to jump on a boat the next day and finally soak up the magic of this little coastal town. But not even ten minutes into the drive, Delilah (our trusty-but-temperamental van) decided she’d had enough. The engine overheated badly. We pulled over, lifted the hood, and realized the engine was about to blow. Rather than signing ourselves up for a barbecue roast, we called for a tow.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. We hadn’t booked a campsite, and Exmouth is infamous for being tough on free campers, unless you enjoy the thrill of late-night ranger knock-knocks. But in a strange way, Delilah might have done us a favour. She dragged us straight to what the locals affectionately call “breakdown camp.” Not exactly the glamorous holiday park we had in mind, but hey, when life gives you lemons, at least it gave us a parking spot with shade.

Breakdown Camp slogan idea: “Where dreams break down, and so do your vehicles.”

It started with optimism and jokes, and we had our friends, we had a campsite, and we’re about to hop on a boat the next day. We met up with our friends at the yachtclub, saw a beautiful moonrise which looked a lot like the stairway to the moon we had been dying to see the past few days. Turns out, we saw exactly the same thing that our friends saw in Broome, minus the clouds. It was a wholesome reunion under a beautiful sunset, which turned around into a gorgeous full orange moonrise. Breaking

down didn’t seem that bad. Let’s be honest, we were 100% in denial.

Our long-awaited dream day out on the water turned into a big no, we were stranded on the campsite with all the good spots an hour away. No friends available to keep us busy, and when you have nothing to do, your mind is working overtime. It was getting to us. We had to wait five long days until anyone could even touch the van.

Five more days? Are we road-tripping or just starring in a survival reality show?

The thing about roadtripping is, there’s no pause button. Your van doesn’t magically fix itself, the money doesn’t stop draining, and the weather doesn’t really care if you just need one day where nothing goes wrong. We spent what felt like an eternity juggling stress: waiting for mechanical advice, trying to fit in activities to keep us busy, but still stick to the budget, and asking ourselves if we were completely out of our depth.

Note to self: never underestimate a temperamental van.

Of course, we tried to make the best of it. We laughed (a bit hysterically) at how our “dream week” was unfolding. We cooked our usual questionable van-meals, and reminded each other that one day this would all be a funny story. But it was hard. We tried to stay positive around each other, but in reality, we had no clue what to do, how next week was gonna look, and our days at ‘breakdown camp’ were running out. Soon, we would have nowhere to go or sleep.

Luckily there were glimmers; two glorious days where we finally escaped our own problems. We swam, we snorkeled, we let Ningaloo do its thing and distract us. For those brief hours, it felt like maybe everything was fine. We rented a car to see the reef and hit some waves. We went down to visit our lovely friends, Dom and Jess, in Coral Bay, who took us out on their boat and entertained us. It might seem normal to them, but it was our highlight of the week, the light at the end of the tunnel, the credits after a horror movie.

But reality never stayed away for long. Stress crept back in like the tide, and by the end of the week, Exmouth wasn’t our highlight, it was the place that might end our roadtrip. We couldn’t wait to leave this place and finish our roadtrip, but the car was no longer with us, and we faced maybe the biggest decision so far.

So here we are. Tired, broke, a little bruised by the whole experience, and staring at the map with a question bigger than the kilometers ahead:

Do we cut the trip short… or do we keep going?

written by Morgane Roggeman. Grammatically reviewed. My English isn't perfect.