Later that night, we unfolded our map and discussed the plan for the next day. We would try for Archer River Roadhouse, roughly 300 km north but very achievable, as the road in this area was still very wide and quite manageable at high speeds.

We left that morning at 11 and pulled into Archer River just before 6. The drive was long, hot and un-memorable. The campsite at Archer River, however, more than made up for it. We weaved through boulders on the sandy banks of the Archer River and found a remote campsite nestled between rocks, trees and the river. It was lovely. We set up our tents, built a fire and prepared a couple of chooks to dine on later in the evening.

My one mistake that night, as it happens, was to set up my chair on the residence of one persistently cheeky, not so little, spider. And when I say not so little, I mean really, really not so little. He was huge, and rather upset that I had invaded his territory. The first I felt of him was on the back of my neck, and discredited him as a fly or other winged pest; shooing him away with a hand. By the second time this happened, I knew something was amiss when the fly clung to my finger. “Fly’s don’t cling like this,” I thought.

I shook my hand in a quiet panic. He fell to the ground.

We made eye contact briefly, then he swiftly made for my leg with a surprising determination.

I must admit, it was not my finest hour. I yelped, gave an acrobatic dance-kick combination, and proceeded to run away.

Then, a few meters away, feeling confident that I had shaken my armed assailant, and thinking that after seeing seen such a stunning performance of agility he would be a fool to launch another attack, I strode back to my seat to resume the dinner I had abandoned.

Not the correct move. Thirty seconds later I felt something on the back of my neck. “Oh shit!” I thought.

I leaped out of my chair and danced madly around, somewhere in the middle of this show throwing the spider to the ground. Glen, Sue and Fiona were on the ground with laughter.

“Piss off!” I thought. I had a venomous creature lunging at my throat. I knew my actions were valid.

“Well actually, it won’t hurt you Dom,” Glen managed to squeak.

“What?” I said, a smile on my face. Even I was laughing at myself now. “I didn’t know it wasn’t venomous.”

“Oh, no, it’s venomous, but it’s not deadly,” Glen said.

“You see,” I laughed. “Then everything I did was justified; the kicking, the screaming, the crying.” I had a big grin on my face now.

Just then, Sue’s expression turned serious as she quickly jumped out of here seat. She looked at her foot, “shit, now look what you have me doing,” She said. “I spilled wine on my foot and though the spider was attacking me!”