Good bye and thank-you Australia! After getting through 3 vans, 44 pots of horse arse cream, 9,000 polystyrene cups and 25 gallons of sun block, we have finally come to the end of principal photography after 41 days in the wilderness, which is one day more than Jesus survived, admittedly without the fantastic catering skills of Iron Chef Geoff and his team of one.
To make things more exciting both on-screen and off, the most physical work was saved for the final week in the hottest location: the Claypan 10km outside of Winton (but seemingly 2,000 light years from civilization). As the thermometer climbed relentlessly to 46 degrees centigrade, the actors were pushed to extremes of running, fighting and being dragged out of the back of the van repeatedly, while the crew heroically fought to get it all on film before the sun went down each day. Amazingly, there was no blood spilled (not real blood anyway), although one or two bits of equipment got bent with frustration.
Throughout the final week Mother Nature continued to throw willy-willys and dust storms at us (and did we mention the flies?) but by now they were more or less brushed off by a crew that increasingly resembled a bunch of outlaws. We started to say our farewells and make the most of being in the outback: Jason, the focus puller, taking photos of the desert for his Christmas exhibition and the grips enjoying a final lunchtime display of home-made pyrotechnics.
Then after the last day of filming where almost every piece of gear in the trucks was used, we wrapped as the sunset flared crimson and blue. There were cheers, beers and a few tears as we looked forward to heading back to families, homes and a bath. It has certainly been a journey that we all remember for a long time and after getting used to a town of 750 people, the city's going to be a mighty big shock to the system, but I think we'll all cope.
