A Blonde, A Welshman and a Car Called Babs...

---

“Oh my God,” I cried, as I walked over to Matt, “What happened?”

“The door fell off,” he replied sheepishly, clutching the side door to our campervan in his arms.

I sighed. We had only had our van (which we christened ‘Babs’) for three days. We knew when we were buying her that we’d run into some problems along the way (a 23 year old van tends to break down now and then) but not so soon. And not THIS. This was ridiculous.

Parked outside our Bondi apartment, Matt had been giving Babs a bit of spring clean. Upon finishing, he found he couldn’t close the door. So he let his temper get the better of him and slammed it shut with everything he had. As if in response to this direct abuse, Babs’ door came right off the hinges.

We tried for a good hour to get it back on ourselves, but even with the help of a passing policeman (‘Oi, you’re not allowed to park here, guys – oh wow you’re door’s come off!’) it was hopeless. There was only one thing for it, we’d have to head to a mechanic and hope to god that a) they’d be open at 5.30pm and b) they wouldn’t charge us an arm and a leg.

The usual traffic on Bondi Road meant we got to the nearest mechanic just before 6. Matt sent me in by myself, with instructions to play the ditzy blonde in need of a rescue. I did just that (hair flicking and all), and 30 minutes later we were back on the road, door firmly in place. And all for the bargain price of $20.



This had probably been the worst year for us to choose to live in Bondi. Matt had lived there the summer before and waxed lyrical about it all the time: Oh the beach! Oh the people! Oh the parties! So it was without much persuading that I agreed to leave Melbourne (a city which I adored living in but Matt disliked) and move to Sydney. And yes, when we arrived and viewed the apartment on Campbell Parade, just across the road from the sea, it seemed that we had made the right choice.

However, what we did not know was that this was to be the worst summer in 50 years. It rained 70% of the time and was cloudy for 20%, while the few beautiful days Mother Nature chose to grace us with we spent at work. Living a stone’s throw away from the beach is a bit pointless if you never get to enjoy it.

Living the Bondi dream also proved to be an expensive venture, both in terms of rent and weekly transport costs. And as neither of us were exactly rolling in the benjamins, we found ourselves unable to save, or have fun, or even leave.

Don’t get me wrong, Sydney has its perks. The Sydney Opera House, the various restaurants and bars, the shopping districts etc. But you have to have money to truly enjoy it. By the end of our stay, we couldn’t wait to get out and see the ‘real’ Australia and Babs was definitely our ticket.



Now, with the door disaster averted, and everything ready to go, we are no more than one sleep away from our East Coast adventure. Although I think we will both still spent the whole time keeping our fingers crossed that Babs manages to get us around Australia in one piece, doors and all.

---