Tuesday 23rd October 2012 Mildura to Broken Hill Back on the road again and it’s only a short drive to Wentworth, passing through vineyards and groves of olives and oranges. We are fascinated by the contrast between the red desert … Continue reading Red Dirt, Day 4 – Mildura to Broken Hill
Monday 22nd October 2012 Mildura (Buronga, NSW) (0 Kms) We wake to the sound of birds walking on the roof, what a great alarm clock. It’s been lovely to open some of the pop top zippers for the first time and let the fresh air in. We have a lazy breakfast listening to the tooting of the PS Melbourne’s steam whistle, we can see her plying tourists back and forth, through our front window. The wondrous smell of the Murray River is in the air. A family of ducks beg for some slices of our bread. Woody comes home disappointed … Continue reading Red Dirt, Day 3 – Mildura
Sunday 21st October 2012 Charlton to Mildura (295Kms) We have a slow start, because we really don’t have to hurry. We leave at 9:45, it is a beautiful morning, but chilly. The road is straight and the paddocks are filled … Continue reading Red Dirt, Day 2 – Charlton to Mildura
Intro We purchased our first caravan upon retirement in 2012 and although we were seasoned campers and trailer sailors we were new to the caravanning caper, which I might add, is a unique combination of both those activities minus the … Continue reading Red Dirt, Day 1 – Melbourne to Charlton
This may come as a surprise but some nights when we’re sitting about chatting the topic of food comes up and when it does there’s always a lot of shouting and dreamy looks as we remember a night in Mudgee. It was a freezing cold winter’s night back in 2017 and VeeWee, Woody and I were in one of our favourite towns, Mudgee, NSW. We were all longing for a good steak and the Lawson Park Hotel nearby advertised that they had pretty good steaks. Rugged up in winter woollies we trundled off hoping, just hoping, that the meal would … Continue reading If it’s steak you want
Many years ago, Woody and I ran a catering business which often involved working at country halls. No nonsense buildings with plenty of room to host whatever the community threw at it and with big old kitchens with the space … Continue reading Cheers to the Country Hall
As we pack the caravan for another zip trip I realise the importance of the crazy clothing situation for those of us who are grey nomads. Retirement means gone are the days of bespoke business suits and sensuous silk blouses. Gone too are heels and make-up and long sessions in the hair salon hiding the creeping greys. Now it’s all about comfort and practicability. Living two lives, one in the suburbs and one on the road means two sets of clothing, one of which stays on the van most of the time. When on the road we try to keep … Continue reading Road Clothes
A while back I attended a lecture at our local library given by a diver who is involved in the search for the shell that is believed to be the first shot fired after World War One was declared. On … Continue reading Port Phillip Heads – the first shot fired in World War 1
I’ve often mentioned in these pages that on our very first freedom camp foray, the first person that we met turned out to be a member of the caravan club that we obliviously later joined. We had travelled many thousands of kilometres with our mate Veewee before realising through Facebook that she was a friend of Woody’s cousin, then discovered that she and Woody were distantly related by marriage and have since found another genealogical link. I’m constantly amazed at how many people we meet on the road who have in some way crossed our paths in life before. There … Continue reading Serendipitous moments and six degrees of separation
On every trip there comes a time when I get the sudden feeling in the pit of my stomach ‘that’s it we’ve reached the turning point’. That knowledge that from here on everything is ‘on the way home’. Continue reading The Turning Point
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