Thank You Two Wells

Daily miles: 27.34 | Total miles: 7,698.68

My alarm was set for 7am — a little luxury, sleeping in. I quietly pushed the buggy out of the hostel room so I wouldn’t disturb anyone, got myself ready, and aimed to be at a bike shop by 8:30am. I had enough tubes already, but something in me kept saying: get more, just in case. Sometimes it’s the little things that keep my mind busy at night, so better to be safe than sorry.

The first shop didn’t have what I needed. Like yesterday, I found myself walking through Adelaide, sightseeing while on this practical mission. On the way I passed a post office, and suddenly the thought struck me: maybe I should use this time to send a package ahead to Perth. If I lighten the buggy now, I’ll have more room for food and water during that long stretch ahead. It felt like the right decision, so I did it. A kind person at the counter helped me pack and send it off, and by 10:30am, with that task done, I was finally ready to run.

I’d called ahead to the motel in Two Wells to reserve a room, so the destination was set. Leaving Adelaide, I ran past train tracks, dipped under a motorway overpass, followed the big roads, then crossed swamp land on bridges and gravel stretches. The shoulder at times was nothing but loose stones, tree debris, and litter. My buggy rattled and bounced, but with my new tires on, I kept telling myself: Andrea, this is nothing. You’re heading toward the loneliest road in the world — a bit of gravel won’t stop you.

By the time I arrived in Two Wells, I was shaken up but happy. I stopped for groceries, and Mea and Marylin greeted me with such warmth and excitement — their kindness already lifted my spirits. As I continued down the road toward the motel, I passed three relaxed souls enjoying their Friday afternoon outside. I couldn’t help but throw my arms up and shout: “I’m so happy to be here! I’ve arrived in Two Wells!” They laughed, and I told them about my journey. One of them, Tim, turned out to be the local pizza chef and owner of a restaurant called Phyre. He said, “Come back for dinner.” I asked, “What do you mean?” And just like that, an evening plan was born.

Before heading to the motel, I met two more locals — concrete workers who held doors for me and shared a warm chat. By the time I checked in, the friendliness of the town was undeniable. The motel manager gave me a generous discount, Alan even offered to chip in for my room, and others quietly handed me money to support the run. I felt so welcomed, cared for, and supported.

After settling in, I returned to the pub to use the Wi-Fi, and then, with some excitement, I headed to Tim’s restaurant. When I opened the door, I was stunned. It felt like stepping into a favorite place back home — warm, stylish, lively. I almost felt underdressed and out of place, but then I spotted Tim behind the counter. He immediately welcomed me like an old friend, told his staff about me, and treated me like a very special guest.

I was seated at a cozy table beside the fireplace, surrounded by laughter, good company, and the wonderful smell of delicious food. And then came my dinner — a vegetarian pizza unlike any I’ve had in a very long time: asparagus, cherry tomatoes, onions, cheese, all on perfect sourdough. Tim — you’ve officially become my favorite pizzaiolo. This pizza will be fueling not just my body but my dreams, something I’ll carry with me across the Nullarbor.

What a day. From the nervous energy of the morning, to the rough roads, to the warmest of welcomes and the best pizza surprise — Two Wells, you’ve given me a memory I’ll treasure. Thank you, all of you.

Now it’s time for a shower, some rest, and sleep. Tomorrow, the long road awaits.

Be well, Andrea