I once told someone that the best thing about caravanning is opening your door to a new view each morning. But it’s not only the view that is different. The air smells different, grass hay, the saltiness of the ocean or even cow manure. The atmosphere feels different, warmer, cooler or humid. It’s the sound of the birds (as I write this a caccophany of Currawong song is echoing above), the animals wandering by. Even the angle of the sun warming my bum as I do the dishes. Every day is different.