We’ve spent months planning our massive adventure. We’ve prepared places to see, where to stay, rough timeframes to maximise the 6 months, how much weight and volume we can carry, and what we’re prepared to give up. Somehow, though, no matter how much preparation, you don’t plan how to say goodbye to those you hold most dear.
When you significantly change your life, such as ooh, I don’t know, committing to live in a small tin box for 6 months, there sacrifices. The biggest sacrifice is leaving those behind who are part of your rich tapestry of life, woven by our ever present routines. Family that you’ve cared for financially and medically, friends that you see both regularly and irregularly, and those who once grew familiar through work and the relationship has blossomed beyond that. These people, and your interactions with them, are what make you who you are.
We were lucky enough to be able to farewell some of our dearest friends at a wedding before we set off. The wedding was at Burrawang Coastal Reserve, a members only coastal reserve nestled in bush land 20 minutes south of Bateman’s Bay. Tall ferns and towering gum trees line the road in, with the dense undergrowth providing lush homes for possums, wallabies, and monitor lizards. Vaughn and I were honoured to play the roles of Best Person and MC respectively, and as much as we valued the roles our holiday felt more immediate once the ceremonies were concluded. I have to admit I missed having an amazing presentation partner to MC with and bounce a comedic act off – Julie and Sarah I’m looking at you – but the support of a silent partner Leah to ensure little niggles remained little, was invaluable.
The setting bore out a casual, carefree, informal and homely wedding which reflected the brides perfectly. When the second set of vows began with ‘ditto’, and the popping of a champagne cork elicited a giggle from the celebrant, we know we were surrounded by friends.
The ceremony gave us the perfect sendoff. We could farewell some dear friends, see everyone’s faces warmed with smiles and laughter, and embark on our adventure.
And so we set out along the coast road to Melbourne. What began as a lazy trip, wandering through small towns, visiting an Aunt in Merimbula, and staying amongst the wilderness at Genoa for our first night of free camping quickly accelerated. A decidedly temperamental motor, along with a sky stained black at 4.30pm from the Victorian bushfires, lent an unexpected sense of urgency.
This urgency allowed just a single indulgent stopover, to fire a bow and arrow and undertake a round of archery. This is something that we had really wanted to do, ever since reading about it that very morning.
And so we found ourselves in an entirely empty adventure park that offered an archery range, just outside Bairnsdale. There’s something about the send of isolation that can be experienced in a developed environment that is currently completely deserted that you don’t get even in the remotest wilderness. That feeling, that there should be people here, but everyone has escaped to somewhere else, can be incredibly intense.
We met a sole attendant who indicated that she wouldn’t charge us until we had finished our archery, as the thunderstorm rolling in would likely strike before our game was finished. Every single attraction – the laser tag, the merry-go-round, the go-karts, the mini-golf – all stood empty, without an attendant or customer. The distant fires and the storm together blackened the sky and give a nervous urgency to the game. Fire or flood would end our game if we didn’t.
The only thing stopping this from being the latest Stephen King thriller was the lack of a rusty sign, creaking as it swung on its hinges, blown by the ash-carrying wind from the impending storm.
Changing our overnight camp from Maffra to Rosedale gave some peace from concerns over ever-escalating warnings increased, even if it did mean missing the motor and model museum in Maffra. We set off to Melbourne to meet family, who went out of their way to welcome us. Starter motor issue was diagnosed as most likely a battery that had gone flat a long time ago (our Ford Transit has two cranking batteries), and an earth for the batteries that led to a random, unearthed spot underneath the driver’s seat.
Getting our first motorhome repair for the trip led to an extra unplanned night in Melbourne. And to one of our first lessons for our travels: slow down. It is ok to spend a day kicking back in a lounge room.
Another first lesson: pay attention to public holidays and school holidays. Turns out we had been planning to travel the Great Ocean Road over a public holiday long weekend in Victoria and so there was absolutely no chance of staying anywhere, paid or not. Nothing an unplanned side trip to Ballarat and its slightly more remote surrounds can’t address.
Oh and another lesson? Be mindful and present in the moment. Otherwise when you’re stepping on out of your motorhome, you may end up with a sprained ankle and more enforced relaxation for at least two weeks than you could ever find comfortable…
The biggest lesson is who we are, now that we’ve said goodbye. This lesson starts now, but won’t be learnt for another 30,000km.
For daily updates you can also follow us on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/australianlap/
Hey what a start to your adventure. I think the wedding was a lovely way to begin and the fires would have been intense. I hope you both keep well and safe and just learn to enjoy what is around you. If you don’t make your next destination on time so be it you will eventually. I am looking forward to travelling along with you through your updates. I am so jealous have the best time ever.