Travel writer Elspeth Callender tells how her favourite meal ever suddenly materialised out of the seemingly nowhere. 

Every day since I’d left Perth had been a mid-summer scorcher.

The last decent bend in the road had been three days and 2000 kilometres ago in Norsemen where my air-conditioning also carked it (Nullarbor Plains crossing).

By the time I turned into the South Australian town of Ceduna, I was hallucinating.

The mirage took the form of the wildest fantasy of a lone dusty girl in a bomb of a car she loved too much to leave in the west: an oyster bar in a demountable shed beside the highway.

I expected it to evaporate at any moment, but the door handle was real and cold air hit me as I entered.

A smiley woman motioned me towards a plastic chair and table and poured me white wine in a plastic cup. Then, without me even asking, she brought me a plate of the only thing on the menu: oysters.

Nothing fancy in the presentation, just 12 freshly shucked oysters and a piece of lemon.

When I finished them, I ordered another dozen. And then another.

Make your own memory

Ceduna Oyster Bar, Eyre Highway, Ceduna, SA; 08 8626 9086

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