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I can’t believe we have arrived in Sydney, and that tomorrow Paul flies back to Joburg for a couple of weeks! That means it is now nearly five months that we have been on the road, yet it feels just like yesterday we were back in Joburg planning the trip to this point. It is going to feel strange, the next 10 days or so, not being in a caravan, and not having Paul with us. My mother will be joining us for a few days next week from Perth, and then the boys and I will set up to explore Sydney in earnest. Paul’s oldest friend Mark Sandham and his wife Anna have kindly offered to share their home with the Marketos troop for the next five weeks or so, and even better, they live by Bondi Beach, which is fantastic.
Our last few days in Melbourne were very busy, filled with visiting friends primarily, but we also managed to sneak a visit to the Botanical Gardens, where the boys spent much time trying to spot - and once they were a bit braver, touch - eels and turtles living in the lake, and we also spent a day
at the Melbourne Museum, to see the Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs exhibition. This is the first time this exhibition has been in Australia, and it will only be showing in Melbourne, so our timing was quite fortunate. It was quite a remarkable exhibition, not only to read about King Tut and learn more about the pharaohs, but to also see first hand the tools, furniture and ornaments that were being used nearly three thousand years ago. The Pharaohs were very civilised, and looking at the Egyptian artifacts and treasures on display, you could see its influence in many of the more modern homes of today. And the delicacy (intricacy) of the carvings and crockery are quite exquisite. We also saw the golden canopic coffinette of Tutankhamun as well as the crown found on his head when the tomb was discovered. On reemerging into the 21st century, we had a couple of hours to spare to visit the main museum. Two hours was much too short - what a fantastic museum! We could have spent the whole day there, but we ran out of time (and I think four hours in a museum was really pushing the
limits of our boys’ patience).
And then it was time to leave Melbourne. After much debate, we decided to head up to Ballarat rather than head down to the coast, mainly because I really wanted to visit Sovereign Hill for the boys, and also because we learnt that Wilson’s Promontory National Park was closed due to flood damage (this was our main point of interest if we were to travel along the coast to Sydney). So inland we went. Set on a former gold mining site, Sovereign Hill is an outdoor ‘life’ museum, recreating in detail the 1850s gold rush in Ballarat. It is like stepping back in time, again, though this time the lives we were witnessing were part of living history, though, ironically, the way of living felt much more alien! On entering Sovereign Hill, you walk down Main Street, which is busy with people dressed in period clothes, the shops are all old style, and most are operated by craftsmen working the way they did in the 1950s. What we particularly enjoyed was watching the sweet man make authentic lollies (there are apparently only five people trained in the skill of old-fashioned sweet making, and only
4. Our car overheats
the photo does little justice to how steep the roads wereone of them has not been to hospital for serious burns), and the wheelwright making a wheel for a carriage the - back then - modern way. Naturally, there was also the opportunity to pan for gold, and William showed us how patient he could - he even found a few specks of gold! We decided to invest in some toys of the era - three pop guns which the boys have been having a fantastic time with, and pick up sticks.
Envy is a terrible thing. We came across a caravan which, and for the first time since we stepped in to ours, I experienced caravan envy! This caravan is not much bigger than ours, but it is divided into three sections, each section able to be closed off. There is the kids section, with three bunk beds each with its own TV screen, large cupboards and even a decent-sized bathroom. This can be closed off, and then there is the living area, with a large fridge, oven and dining room table, etc, and then there is the ‘master bedroom’ which can also be closed off. It was very nice, and when I next entered our caravan,
I could only see what was missing. But after another cosy night, I realised that Cazza wasn’t too bad - in fact, she is very comfortable and cosy, and not having TV does force us to interact more with one another, and being all in one space, does encourage us to go out and explore more. And once the weather warms up, we will not be as confined to Cazza as we currently find ourselves. (And, needless to say, the caravan which caught my eye is a lot more expensive as well). I guess there will always be people or things that are better, and then there will be those that are less fortunate as well.
Take Bruce for example. Bruce was our neighbour at the caravan park in Ballarat. He rocked up in his iconic Ford Falcon (picture Mad Max) and then set about preparing his campsite: a tarpaulin wedged into his door and left to drape on the ground, under which he slept in his swag. On chatting to him, I learnt that he had a farm, but things weren’t going too well, so he had taken on some work at Sovereign Hill to earn some extra
cash. He said he was looking forward to his first day at work, which was on the following day. His belongings he kept in his massive boot, and when I asked him why he spent money on a caravan park, he said it was good to have the luxury of a hot shower and a laundry nearby. When I heard the deep throaty rumble of his car leaving early the next morning, I silently wished him good luck, and thanked our good fortune that we had the luxury of a caravan to sleep in! and then I snuggled deeper under my duvet as it was freezing, eagerly awaiting the good morning cuddle which has now become a daily ritual with the boys on awakening - a ritual which probably wouldn’t happen if we slept behind our own partitions! (NB, I confess that Bruce is not necessarily Bruce’s name - during our chat I never got around to ‘formal’ introductions, unfortunately).
On leaving Ballarat, we again had to decide if we would go inland to Sydney, or backtrack a bit and drive the coastal road. The lure of the mountains was too strong, so we opted to drive through the
Snowy Mountains, particularly as the weather seemed to be good. Our first night we spent at the foot of the mountains, on a rest spot along the road just outside Bright. We thought we were quite remote, but the traffic along this particular stretch of road was incessant. We awoke quite exhausted the following morning, absolutely frozen as well, but it was nice to see where we had been sleeping - it was quite pretty, and, being autumn, the trees were a wide range of colours, from deep reds, to oranges, to a hundred shades of brown, and greens. As we were awoken quite early, we thought we might try and make it to our destination that day - ostensibly a six-hour drive to a friend’s house in Tanja, on the NSW coast - and this way, we could wake up on Mother’s Day in the warmth and comfort of a house. Hmmm. We did not factor in the terrain along which we were travelling. The Snowy Mountains are, um, very mountainous! Often, we could only crawl along at 20 kms an hour. And then, our engine overheated, and we had to pull over (fortunately, we were on a stretch
of road where we could pull over) and we decided to explore the surrounding forests for an hour while giving our car a chance to cool down. We were very relieved on our return to the car that it did start, and that the red warning light did not come back on. We drove on, at a much more sedate pace, and at about 5.30pm found ourselves at the highest point of this particular range (1500m) and, after viewing the most amazing sunset, decided to call it a night. By then, we had already been driving well over eight hours, and still had another 300 kms to go! Shortly afterwards, we came across a campsite and eagerly anticipated a night truly on our own. But there were two other campers there (interesting to note that, during the whole day driving, we did not see a single other caravan - I think most knew better than to drag a caravan through the Snowy Mountains).
We awoke to a frost-covered car and caravan, and the view was also quite white. Not quite snow (which Paul and I were quite relieved to see, as we did not relish the idea of driving
on icy roads) but pretty enough - and chilly enough. The boys had made me cards, and I also received a very pretty necklace - a kangaroo with a blue opal. I was quite spoilt. We continued our way across the mountains, and started driving through The Man From Snowy River country which was an added bonus. Quite a few hours later, we finally arrived at our destination, with no further mishap.
Our destination was at Deb and Jack’s home just outside of Tanja. Deb is one of the first Aussie friends my parents made when they arrived in Australia, and their friendship has lasted through the years. Deb and Jack made us feel very welcome at their home, and what a beautiful home it was, and ideally situated, close to the ocean, to the river mouth, and to old growth forests, and banksia forests. We also spotted our first Eastern Grey Kangaroo, much bigger than the kangaroos we have already seen. We also caught up with Deb’s daughter Kate, who I remembered as a little baby (I guess I wasn’t much older!), who now has a family of four (we had caught up with Deb’s son Chris in
Adelaide). Deb said it was a bit strange seeing me, as I looked much like my mother at the same age, which was about the time they knew each other. I guess time does stride inexorably on! Sadly, we could only spend two nights here, as we had to get to Sydney in time for Paul to fly out on Friday.
With another long drive ahead of us, Paul earmarked a place for us to bush camp to break the journey. We had not anticipated such a hilly journey, as this six hour drive again took double the length of time. I also did not expect the drive to be so green - we were driving amongst tall forests pretty much the whole time. We stopped for the night at a place called Pretty Beach, and it was as its name promised. Though unfortunately for Oliver, and to a lesser extent Quinton, the area was swarming with mosquitos, and Oliver was almost eaten alive - at last count, he counted 40+ bites on his arm alone, and this doesn’t include his left thigh which is one massive welt. We managed a short hike through the forest but had to
leave as we wanted to miss the rush hour in Sydney.
And so, here we are, our caravan safely parked on the street outside the Sandhams’ home. Admittedly, there were a few anxious moments on arrival, as the streets around here are very narrow, and car parking spaces at a premium. When we arrived, no bays were free, and the road narrowed to such an extent we were pretty much trapped. Fortunately, builders nearby took pity on us, and moved three of their cars (one was apparently leaving anyway) to give us space to manoeuvre our caravan and park it. Now that it is parked, it is not moving for the six odd weeks we are here - and as to how we are going to extricate ourselves, well, we will deal with that then!
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Jeanette
non-member comment
Sydney and the Sandhams in New South Wales
I was sitting at the computer thinking about all of you, when along came a Blog! I am so pleased to hear that Ina will be with you, while Paul is away. I must say I do feel sad that I will not see Mark and his family. Spending time in Sydney will be great fun, such a beautiful city! Loved you Blog and all the news, boys are looking so happy, and as Susann nextdoor said.....the best thing in the whole world you could be doing with your family!!! Looking forward to seeing Paul on Monday at Scuzi's Lots of Love to all of you. Jeanette