My dream home is portable

Pink My Ride - Vicky's Makeover

2011-09-29T18:07:00.000+10:00

This is part of an article from Issue 3 of Vintage Caravan Magazine

Recently I decided that my caravan Vicky's original cream coloured beige walls did not work with my thoroughly pink interior, so although I appreciated her originality, it was time to “pink my ride” and give her a bit of a makeover.

Before: Stripped bare - Vicky's thoroughly original cream & beige interior

I stripped out the entire interior and sanded all the walls back and repainted them in clean, crisp white, which has made the inside look so much bigger and cleaner.

The first coat of white paint goes on

I also ripped out the original beige and brown sparkly floor tiles and replaced them with traditional black and white check and have reupholstered the dinette with hot pink fake fur and sewed pink curtains. After I had stripped the van out I decided I quite liked the front end being open and opted not to put curtains back up there to maximize the effect of the classic curved panoramic Perspex windows. For privacy and dark sleep ins I have the “bedroom” end of the van curtained and a privacy curtain in between the front and back halves of the van.

The black and white floor tiles ready to go down on the sanded floor

After - The lino tiles look awesome!

What I have learned since decorating Vicky is that not all pinks go together and that there are about a million varieties of pink! So I kind of gave up trying to coordinate it in the end and just let it become a crazy mixture of things I like. After all, that’s what vintage vans are about – individuality! What I have ended up with is a somewhat strange mixture of Gidget’s Hawaiian holiday meets Barbie’s pink campervan, but I just love it to bits.

I had the metal plaque Mum got me made into a full size sticker for the fridge

My van has become like a cubby house to me now. Even when I am home, I’ll sometimes go out and just sit out there with my computer or a good book - I just love the coziness of that little space so much.

Thank you to pinup photographer Helen McLean for the fabulous photos taken at Garterbelts & Gasoline Nostalgia Festival and for loving Vicky as much as I do!

Garterbelts & Gasoline Nostalgia Festival @ Mt. Tamborine April 29th – May 2nd

2011-07-08T12:22:00.018+10:00

This article appeared in the 2nd issue of Vintage Caravan Magazine - June/July 2011

Having only just completed my caravan Vicky’s interior makeover the week before, it seemed as good a time as any to hit the road once more and show her off a bit. The occasion: the third annual Garterbelts & Gasoline Nostalgia Festival. Held for the first time in the idyllic location of Mt. Tamborine in the Gold Coast Hinterland, the euphoria started to set in even before we arrived at the showgrounds, as the perfect weather and breathtaking scenic drive up the mountain filled me with a sense of anticipation and adventure. The thrill of taking my little Vicky out and about to a new setting in conditions like this is one of life’s better joys and always makes me so proud and happy to be a caravanner.

Once inside the showgrounds, the pink flamingos were put in place and the banana lounge brought out to take advantage of the sensational summer-like weather. Then it was off the nearby Saint Bernard’s Hotel for a steak meal, some live rockabilly jives and the judging of the Miss Garterbelts & Gasoline pin-up contest. The party went on well into the night and saw me crawling back into the van way past my usual bedtime.

Early on Sunday morning, even with earplugs in, the familiar rumbling of hot rods could be heard as streams of entrants and their pre-1970 vehicles rolled in to the showgrounds in preparation for the big day – the classic and custom car displays. Several vintage caravans, along with Vintage Caravan Magazine’s own “Vicky” were also on display and proved to be very popular with the crowds. And I was stoked to spot this pink Vauxhall!

The great weather continued throughout the entire weekend creating ideal circumstances for a long weekend festival of lowbrow art, tiki carving, hot rods, classic and custom cars, vintage fashion, pinup photography, market stalls, plenty of rockin’ live music and lots and lots of dancing. Along with over 300 show cars, a crowd of almost 4,000 filled the showgrounds with most in full retro regalia creating a sea of slick back hairdos for the guys and circle skirts, petticoats, polka dots and parasols for the gals.

The next day, with all the cars gone, I was lucky enough to get some photos done of Vicky and I by the renowned pinup photographer: the gorgeous Helen Mclean before hitting the road for the 2-hour journey home. Assisted by Miss Christine from Lindy’s Charm School for Girls on hair and makeup, the Helen McLean pinup photo booth proved to be one of the most popular attractions of the festival.

A big shout out has to go to Paul Biagini and wife Amanda for putting together what was probably one of the best and definitely the most fun events I’ve been to in a long time. The choice of location and the enthusiasm and dedication to the nostalgia lifestyle shown by the festival organisers created a fantastic festival vibe and Vicky and I can’t wait for next year’s event.

This is the Saint Bernard from St. Bernard's Hotel at Mt. Tamborine who obviously has a very tough life I found him lounging in the Pokies lounge!

Vintage Vans turn heads at Lennox:

2011-07-08T11:44:00.003+10:00

This is the article I wrote for the very first issue of Vintage Caravan Magazine - May 2011

The best thing about owning a vintage caravan is hitching it up and setting off down the highway on yet another adventure to a destination far away enough from home to feel like a getaway, but close enough to come home from by Monday. I know as soon as the van is on the back of the car, my spirit starts to soar and small butterflies play in my tummy as I relish in the thought of yet another weekend change of scenery with my portable little home. But what makes a vintage caravan outing even more fun is being able to share it with a whole bunch of other vintage caravan enthusiasts.

On the first weekend of February a group of vintage caravanners from south east Queensland and northern NSW converged on the idyllic location of Lake Ainsworth in the seaside holiday location of Lennox Head, NSW for a weekend of fun in the sun, swimming in the tea tree lake and great company. Having experienced nothing but rain for almost the entire summer, we were greeted with a heat wave, starry nights and bright sunny days. Annexes were put up and banana lounges unfolded and boogies boards were fetched from boots of cars as the kids and road-weary parents hit the nearby lake for a cooling sunset dip.

After convoying down the highway with several other vintage vanners and a scenic detour through Byron Bay, Friday night dinner was a big communal sausage sizzle dinner on the BBQ’s. The laughs and yarns continued well into the night, and long after the caravan park lights had been turned off. These first night chats are always a great way for vanners to catch up on any latest developments in caravan restorations and compare notes on the journey. On Saturday morning a few dedicated and less sleep-deprived members of the group decided to hit up the local garage sales and op shops in search of vintage caravan treasure while others took in the sights and beaches of Byron Bay. Sunday saw the owners of all the hot rods and classic cars line up to take any willing passengers for a joy ride around the scenic coastal roads giving the locals at the Lennox Heads pub some great Sunday afternoon entertainment.

The Lennox Head weekend featured a great assortment of around thirty vintage caravans with a large number of Olympics fibreglass vans convening in one corner of the Lake Ainsworth Caravan Park. With all eras covered from the 30’s through to the 70’s, there were on offer quite a few aluminium clad vans such as Viscounts, Chesneys and Franklins, a good selection of older styled bondwood vans, including a few folding varieties and a couple of Sunliner fiberglass bubbles in various states of restoration. Everyone had such a good time that they decided to do it all again a month later, although the weather let us down the second time around, sometimes it’s not about the destination, or even the journey – sometimes it’s just about the company you share it all with.

My new 1963 PB Cresta

2011-02-23T22:06:00.002+10:00

Vicky the caravan now has a new partner. Having had the ad for this cute classic Cresta pinned to my fridge since August last year, my dream finally came true when she was delivered to my house recently. Every time I had opened the fridge I had looked at the photo in the torn out piece of newspaper and said: "She will be mine, oh yes, she will be mine". I watched over the next few months as the price was reduced and then, in early December, the ad stopped appearing and I worried I might have waited too long and missed out. So when it reappeared just before Christmas at an even lower price I took no chances and bought her.
So it's not the EH Holden I had in mind, but I reckon it's the next best thing. It's a Vauxhall Cresta PB built in 1963 and very similar in design to the EJ Holden as it was also made by GMH. But for some reason, the Vauxhall does not seem to have captured the Aussie hearts the way the EJ and EH's have and when I excitedly tell motoring enthusiasts of my new aquisition I get chuckles and other less favourable responses.

Well, I don't get it. I think she's beautiful and I can't wait to get her restored and, yes, painted pink! At the moment she's in perfect running order, drives like a dream with her very cool "Hydramatic" automatic transmission and comfy bench seats and lots and lots of shining chrome in almost perfect condition.
We are already booked in to make our first appearance at an upcoming clasic car show - not as a show car, but as a vintage van and classic car combo in original condition and I can't wait to get the towbar put on her and take her and Vicky out for their very first photo shoot.

And here's one of the best things about this car; the mascot. I am yet to see one example of any Crestas left that still have this extra bit of chrome on them anywhere on the net. The chrome is all in great condition and it even has a spare grille and hubcap in the boot!
Despite a severe lack of information on these cars, I have managed to find out that there are only around 50 of these cars still on the road in the UK where they were made, and only a handful left here in Australia, so despite what anyone else might think, I reckon I've scored something really special here and I love her to bits!

Southward bound!

2011-02-11T11:41:00.000+10:00

Maleny to Lennox head, NSW and back 4-6 Feb 2011 (562km)

This trip had been in the planning for quite some time. The weekend away was pre-booked with a whole swag of members from the vintage caravan forums and so yet another weekend of old vans, classic cars, hot rods and good company was assured.
When Mum had told me she was planning a visit over from New Zealand at around this time I'd said "I have a vintage caravan outing then". She had suggested rescheduling her trip until after that. "No way!" I said. "Come along, you'll love it!" Having already made my son promise to join me on this one, I thought why not make it a family affair and drag Mum along too?

So, her flight got in at 10.30am. At 9am I was still running around Maleny organising last minute things like an oil top up for the car. Then there was some last minute tweaking of the electricals on the tow bar to fix the right indicator which was wired wrong. Thanks to the lovely Maleny mechanic at JLR Mechanical and the Maleny Auto electrician next door for squeezing those last minute repairs in for me! Van all loaded on to the car, and bags all packed, the next stop was a fuel up and air pressure check on all tyres before hitting the road; destination Brisbane International. At around this point, running about half an hour behind schedule I got a text from Mum. "I'm here, where are you?". Ummm, "I'm still in Beerwah!" Oops! I raced down the highway at the speed limit (not something I normally do when pulling a van) to pick up a waiting Mum with the hopes of then dashing down to Yatala to meet the meandering convoy at 11.30 for the rest of the journey. Amazingly we made it! The pace slowed considerably from there, as the older cars and their cute caravans cruised down the highway at a much more leisurely pace, getting us into Byron Bay for a scenic detour and arriving at Lake Ainsworth Caravan Park at around 2pm QLD time.

The weather was awesome! We went for a swin in the surf once camp was set up, and then soothed weary bodies in the warmer and more sheltered tea tree lake. Once night fell, there was a big sausage sizzle at the communal BBQ area and vintage vanners gathered for a feed and a yarn well into the night.

On Saturday morning while some of the vintage vanners decided to go off treasure hunting at local garage sales, Mum, Bas and I went to Byron Bay. Although the beach there was nice, I found the town itself just a bit too full of tourists and hectic busy-ness for my liking, so we parked the car down the southern end of the beach and went for a long walk up to the lighthouse and back and all got severely sunburnt in the process! The lighthouse was beautiful, as always; a most photogenic landmark it is, set against the bright blue sky on the most perfect Summer's day. It was the first taste of a real summer I'd felt in a long, long time. All we've had here in the "Sunshine State" for the past three months or more, is rain!

I accosted a guy in the lighthouse carpark who was applying sunblock and asked if he'd mind if we could have a bit. "Is it always this hot here?" I asked. "Are you not from around here?" he asked. "No, I'm from Queensland!" It was pretty funny.

Anyway, we had a blast, despite looking like beetroots, came back for fish and chips and slept soundly. On Sunday morning Banno's crew made use of their new industrial-sized pancake makers for a communal griddle cake breakfast on the BBQ's - yum yum!

Then all the coolest cars and hot rods lined up and took many willing passengers for a quick blast around Lennox head which caused quite a stir with the onlookers at the local pub! Mum, Bas and I all got to ride in Banno's bright orange rod which went beautifully with the cute Sunliner they had only just finished in time to bring down to this event.

There were a great selection of vans and cars to be seen, a total of 26 vans attended and the whole weeekend was relaxed, stress-free and loads of fun with a real seaside family-holiday feel to the weeekend. And that, after all is what vintage caravanning is all about! Bas had fun with Izzy and the Banno boys - something to do with sparklers, glow sticks and bombs... hmmmm... no damage done apparently!

I managed to get some video footage of all the vans as I wandered around on Sunday morning before everyone packed up to go home. The Olympic fibregalass contingent were all gathered in one corner (they assure me this was pure coincidence). Then there were 1950's bondwoods, 1960's aluminiums, and a few fibreglass bubble shaped sunliners like Joey and Banno's along with a teardop and a couple of folding vans scatterd about within our designated part of the park.

For all her initial doubts, I think I've managed to convince Mum, as I have down with so many people now, that caravanning is not "camping". It's so much more civilized being able to rock up at your destination with your own bedroom all made up just the way you like it, a fully stocked pantry, a working fridge, stove, and electricity. This 'aint no roughing it - I adventure in retro style! Now Mum is even looking at vans for sale in New Zealand so I think I may have hooked another one!
So, the trip home was a lot quicker without the convoy and without incident. I love having that little van behind me, it makes the whole journey so much more fun.
We all had so much fun at Lennox Head that we've decided to do it all again next month.

Congratulations Mum on your first Vintage caravan outing!

View Larger Map

Queensland prepares for Cyclone Yasi

2011-02-02T09:53:00.000+10:00

It's been hard to get much sleep lately as I watch this monster storm develop and head towards the north Queensland coast. Having just recovered from damaging floods that affected 75% of the state, it seems what we are about to face is the largest natural disaster we will ever see in our lifetime. Yasi has just been upgraded to a categopry 5 rivalling Hurricane Katrina in scale and power. This cyclone currently spans a distance of 500 kilometres with a 100 kilometre eye. And I'll admit I do feel nervous, despite being well clear of the target area here in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland. This morning a heavy cloud is lying low over the rolling green hills and you can almost feel the brewing of this storm curently due to hit the coast around Innisfail at around 10pm tonight sitting eerily in the air. It's southern tail cloud band is just coming over us now and it feels what can only be described as "heavy".

Even though it's southernmost target zone is 800 kilometres away from us, I feel very strongly about this area of north Queensland as it was where Bas and I enjoyed such a lovely caravanning holiday last year when we drove from the Sunshine Coast to Cairns - stopping at Bundaberg, Mackay, Townsville, Innisfail, Mission Beach and all those lovely coastal areas on the way there and back.

I do marvel at the fact that Oprah came here to make her Australian special shows only weeks before this run of devastating weather hit and thankfully Queensland put her best foot forward for that. But having been pretty close to convincing my overseas family that Queensland is the best place in the world to live has been becoming harder lately!

Woodford Folk festival 2010 (aka: "Mudfest")

2011-01-04T21:48:00.000+10:00

After weeks of preparation, countless lists of "things to pack" and a packed-to-the-roof caravan load, on the 24th December we drove down the range a mere twenty minutes from home to set up camp for the Woodford Folk Festival. After weeks of incessant rain, the site was muddy and boggy and all attempts to reverse into position failed due to loss of traction as the mud turned my tyres into racing slicks. But I managed to find a good spot in the volunteers camping area by driving to the top of the road and literally sliding down to the flat at the bottom. I unhitched the van and set up the full annexe for the first time - complete with tarp and carpet flooring, two camp beds and inner spring mattresses, and our outdoor setting from home, including a coffee table.

The annexe was the boys zone and our lounge and the inside of the van remained my space (and miraculously managed to stay mud free for the whole week!)

Having had the gas reconnected the week before, we had the three-way fridge and gas cooker going and compared to most punters in leaking tents, we were the envy of many of our neighbours. Mud was kept out of the annexe with a compulsory foot-bath beside the annexe entry and a stricly enforced "boots off" policy before entering. Yeah, I know, I'm a cleanliness nazi, but as much as I love sloshing in the mud with the rest of the hippies, I sure as hell don't want to sleep in it, which is why I have a van in the first place!

The festival was wonderful despite the rain. It was very much a showcase of multi-coloured gumboots and rainbow umbrellas and, although I was not keen to take the good camera out on the really wet days, we were lucky enough to get one day of sunshine which was a cause for great celebration and so I made sure I took the opportunity to get the camera out and capture some of it.

I was also stoked to see the addition of a new venue/ performance space I am sure they made just for me called "Trailer Trash" - a collection of artist-decorated old caravans assembled in a circle and a stage for live music in amongst it all providing the answer to that question "where do old carvans go when they die?" I now know - they go to Woodford!

Everything about Woodford is art - even the toilet walls covered in posters advertising the various gigs happening around the many stages over the course of the week provide a visual feast.

And every year the intersections on the streets become shrines to a combined artistic effort as addition after addition is made to the spirals and mazes scratched into the gravel.

Yes, I do love Woodford. Despite the mud, the way too many late nights that saw me crawling back into the van in the wee hours of the morning, and the sore throat I've come home with, I know I'll do it all again next year.

Vintage vanners campout Canungra, Gold Coast (350km return)

2010-11-22T17:29:00.003+10:00

Yes, it has been a while since Vicky and I hit the road, but this weekend we set out to Canungra on the Gold Coast for the vintage caravanner’s campout at Canungra Showgrounds. It was awesome! What do I love best about caravanning? The fact that even though it’s been a few months since our last trip, the van has everything I need already packed inside – the beds are made, the pantry is stocked, the fridge is already cold by the time I get there and the crockery and cutlery is all in its’ place. All I need to do is hitch her up and we’re off. No matter how far I drive, or how exhausted I am when I get there, all I need to do to set up camp is open the door and my dinky little home is just as I left it ready and waiting for me. No stuffing around with tents and sleeping bags or packing the car full of camping equipment. I just grab a bag of clothes and toiletries and that’s it. Pure freedom and no stress – that’s what caravanning means to me.

I was busy all day Friday sewing up the cute vintage van print material into cushions to take with me and managed to sell a few while I was there as well as put one on the raffle giveaway table, the rest are still in the van looking ever so pretty.

I set off on Saturday morning and arrived at Canungra showgrounds just after lunch. I found myself a possie next to the other aluminium vans. Across from us was a fine collection of fibreglass Olympics and over the other side were a collection of older bondwood vans, a selection of teardrops and the odd classic, around 40 vans and 88 forum members came and we all had a great time checking out each other’s vans.

Some of the restorations and interior decorations were amazing. Check out this one that even had chandeliers! I love the way you can personalize a van and it becomes such a reflection of the person who owns it. Of course, although I have chosen to leave the interior in the mint original condition I bought her in, my decorative finishes are just so pink it leaves no one in doubt as to what my favourite colour is! On Saturday night we had a catered group dinner and Santa came for the kids before playing trivia and doing the raffle draw.

Fellow vintage vanner, exhibitionist and griddle cake expert Banno gave a plug for my cushions and threatened to get his gear off if they didn’t sell. He followed through at breakfast the next morning and we were welcomed to griddle cakes on the barbeque by the naked chef himself.

Vicky did me proud and received plenty of compliments and even an offer to buy her – which was, of course, quickly denied. As my fifth van, I assured the potential buyer that she is the only one for me now and is not for sale at any price.

I met heaps of great people and even a few from the Sunshine coast and I am sure we will catch up again at the next event.

The drive home was lovely; there is something about having the van on the back of my car that just makes driving so much fun. When the van is on, my heart soars. I had to stop and take a picture of this place though – hmmm... son of manland? Hilarious!

Anyone who is interested in old vans should check out the forums at http://www.vintagecaravans.com/

Here are a few more pics of the lovely vans I saw:

A big thank you to the organisers of this event and for the hospitality and friendliness of all who attended I look forward to catching up with you all again at the next event.

View Larger Map

Australia Zoo

2010-07-22T14:03:00.000+10:00

This week I've been busy showing my old college roomie from the U.S the sights of my home in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland. Susan has gone back to Vanuatu now for another week before heading home for Oregon, but we had such an awesome time together while she was here.

We had a lovely breakfast at the Mary Caincross Cafe overlooking the magical Glasshouse Mountains, checked out the local musos night at the Upfront Club in Maleny, watched the most incredible sunset I have ever seen over the ridges of Maleny and Witta. We then spent the last night in Brisbane at the Mercure Hotel so that Susan could catch her early flight out.

But, the highlight was definitely our trip to Steve Irwin's Australia Zoo where for an extra $20 each, Susan got to cuddle a koala and we got to hold a huge Burmese python named Charlie with gorgous photos to keep. Just a few mintes drive down the hill in Beerwah, Australia Zoo is an amazing place. The staff are all so happy and friendly and are doing a great job of keeping Steve's legacy alive, and with all those gorgeous Aussie critters to care for why wouldn't they be? The experience certainly put smiles on our faces and I can't wait to go back again.

Vicky gets PINKED!

2010-07-16T12:03:00.000+10:00

OK so the adventures of Vicky and Lisa have been a little slow lately - what can I say? It's been cold!

I realize now that I am more like a reptile than I thought. I must admit that I am finding it hard to get quite as excited about venturing out as I do when it's sunny and warm outside.

So I'm doing what the guy who wrote my runes book says; "when the fishermen can't fish, they repair nets"

So, what does a caravan nutter do when she's not out caravanning? She buys cans of pink paint of course! Having taken about enough of egg yellow as one girl can possibly handle, it was off with the yellow, and in with the pink!

And it now looks sensational!!!!

With overseas family members and old college room mates descending upon me over the next month or so, Vicky will be called in for spare bedroom duties for a bit before we take off on any more road trips...

Vicky is a 1965 vintage Viscount 15-foot Duralvan

Go West young woman!

2010-07-16T11:33:00.000+10:00

Independence Day Hot Rod Round up and Campout - Maidenwell, QLD 1-4th July 2010 (300kms)

It was red, white and blue all around at the highly successful inaugural Maidenwell Independence Day Hot Rod Round Up last weekend. Hosted by the Nanango-based South Burnett Gas Guzzlers Hot Rod & Customs Club, and organized brilliantly by president Andrew Farrell, the weekend brought out a great turn out of cars and curious onlookers from far and away in a little country town about as far away from the USA as anywhere could be.

Up near the Bunya Mountains and high up on the country home-style hospitality, Maidenwell really is a one-pub town, and Publican of the traditional Queenslander style Maidenwell Hotel “Spud” and wife Wendy did a great job of coordinating an unusually high number of temporary residents and takers-over of their facilities for the duration of the weekend.

I opted out of Friday night’s festivities and drove out Saturday when the weather cleared into a glorious sunny day and as soon as I got there I was glad I chose the option of taking the caravan and camping onsite. The costs for the weekend including camping were more than reasonable and, apart from the perfect country driving conditions it was well worth it to partake of Saturday night’s most sumptuous pig on the spit feast put on by the Maidenwell Hotel. Later on there was a chance to work it all off by rocking out to the jiving beats of the sunshine coast band Atomic Cruisers.

Temperatures dropped to zero overnight and I was greeted by frozen grass when I stepped outside the van the next morning, but the sun shone and the skies couldn’t have been bluer as the chamois came out and the grumbling of even more V8’s slowly brought sleepy heads out of caravans.

By 9am and another fine cooked breakfast thanks to the staff of the 100% old school Hotel, the centre field of the adjoining show grounds was full of two big rows of motoring awesomeness. From rat rods to fully customized classics and muscle cars to traditional rods and original classics, including a late entry with the bands gorgeous old cream-coloured Falcon Station Wagon, were cars of every vintage and era. But scooping the pool in the prizes later in the afternoon’s trophy presentations including Mayor’s Choice, Entrant’s Choice and best Hot Rod Ute/Commercial was Noel’s very smooth and sexy, shiny black KB1 International pick-up truck.

But, of course, being the caravan nut that I am, I was once again drawn to the selection of restored vintage and classic caravans and teardrops in an assortment of candy-coloured paint finishes parked up behind the cars. Yes, I am pretty sure I died and went to heaven that day. Add to that fairy floss, market stalls, a jumping castle for the kiddies, crazy antics involving hot rods, hay bales and golf balls and the Wilko’s Pro-Shine guy making my car sparkle like a Twilight vampire and what more could a girl want? What about the legendary hot-rodding fraternity friendliness, yet another BBQ style cooked lunch up at the hotel, even more rockabilly goodness by the Atomic Cruisers for a Sunday session out on the deck before the long trip home? Yep, I’d say that’s pretty much my idea of a perfect way to spend a weekend!

Thanks so much to South Burnett Gas Guzzlers for a great event and to the Maidenwell Hotel Staff for your most bountiful hospitality.
I know where I’ll be celebrating Independence Day next year!

View Larger Map

Pink Cars and caravans

2010-06-19T17:28:00.000+10:00

In my never-ending search for my perfect hot pink dream car I came across this link to a website in the U.K that just deals in, would you believe it, PINK CARS!!!! Check out http://www.pinkcars.net/

How mad is that? So, I'm not alone and it feels strangely reassuring that there are others out there like me wondering if they too, are the only nutters on the planet with this peculiar penchant for pink.

So what is it about pink? Although one of my mates hinted at some kind of pseudo-psychological deep and meaningful explanation for my desire to pink up my caravan and my car (he's a bloke - they'll never get it!) I have found a more justifiable reason: growing up as a tomboy.

When I was a kid I thought pink was gross. Girly things such as barbies and ballet and tutus just didn't interest me. When I was given the choice, I chose to have my bedroom painted in my favourite colours of the time; green and yellow. Not out of patriotism, but because of my admiration of all things natural.

I just wanted my space to be green like the forest and yellow like sunflowers.

Now I'm all grown up, I realize I may have missed something in my repulsion for pink. Pink is to me now, soothing, fun, playful, represents all that is girly, makes me happy and, the best bit is that most guys won't be seen dead in it! And no, aforementioned friend who alludes to similarities to the inside of my van to the inside of, well, um, you work it out! Au contraire, mon ami. It was meant to KEEP YOU GUYS OUT!

Now, because too much pink is never enough, here is my own personal collection of pink car and caravan photos I've taken or collected. Enjoy!

Hervey Bay Hot Rod 'n' Custom Car Campout

2010-05-05T12:32:00.000+10:00

Sunshine Coast to Hervey Bay return 1-3 May (500kms)

I had heard about the May in the Wide bay Hot Rod and Custom Car campout from the Vintage Caravan forums. A lot of Vintage vanners are classic car enthusiasts who use their restored old caravans to travel and stay at the many car shows and campouts held several times a year all around the country. So, fuelled by promises of multiple vintage caravans and lots of classic cars all in the one place, it was time to hook up the old van, jump in the car, and hit the road north for the 260 km drive up past Gympie and Maryborough to Hervey Bay.

As I pulled into the Happy Wanderer Caravan Park I was greeted by a hive of activity and a sea of chrome-adorned open topped rods in just about every bright coloured metallic two pack known to mankind. Having just returned from what sounded like a hilarious observation run and treasure hunt, it was miles of smiles all around as rodders gave fellow rodders a taste of cruising around the caravan park and out and around the streets in their pride and joys. I found Jeff Neels, the secretary of the Wide bay Rodders who introduced me to some of the car owners all of whom were more than happy to have a yarn about their cars and what they love about “rodding”.

“It’s the camaraderie that develops through runs like this one. And the freedom, the freedom to build a car that truly reflects the individual” says Owen Johnston, the club’s president. Owen’s interest in rodding developed when he rescued his grandfather’s old rotting 1927 Buick from a sorry fate many years ago and turned it into a hot rod. He said it took two years of his spare time to repair, restore and rebuild the beauty from the ground up. And it seems this kind of passion and devotion runs deep in the rodding fraternity with many attendees sharing similar stories about the journey of their car’s rebirthing.

So what is a hot rod? Basically it’s a pre-1948 model of car, usually American, such as Ford Model A’s and T’s or Chevy’s and Buicks with a big fat V8 engine in it. The rest is pretty much up the builder’s own tastes; choose your colour, your chrome bits, add personal touches such as licking flame paintwork and big shiny wheels and you’ve got yourself your very own hot wheels project for big kids. Now you’ve made yourself your dream chick-magnet (unless you are a chick already in which case your car will probably be pink and more of a dude repellant) you need somewhere to drive it. As modified vehicles, general daily use is out of the question. Besides, with paintwork like this, would you want to risk it? Most hot rod clubs hold at least one get-together a year to allow members to mingle with other enthusiasts. Along with a bit of car-envy and healthy, jovial competitiveness, all genuine classic and vintage car lovers are welcomed with life-long friendships often formed along the way.

Entry fees included a host of activities designed to engage all rodders of all ages along with communally shared and catered meals held under canvas canopies in the caravan park. Having grown over the past three years to over 120 cars participating this year, May in the Wide Bay now takes over two camping areas in Hervey Bay with onsite accommodation apparently having been booked months in advance. With many of the featured cars on limited special usage registration, registered runs like this one give owners the chance to strut their stuff, turn some heads and show off a bit and many of them travel several times a year to attend events such as this one. Wide Bay Rodders secretary Jeff is quick to point out that any funds raised from holding events like this one in excess of their needs are donated to charity and an auction and raffle drawn on the closing night of the event saw funds proved the generosity, as well as the partying spirit of the rodding fraternity. The the Oncology ward of the local hospital are the deserving beneficiaries of this weekend’s proceedings.

Thanks so much to the Wide bay Rodders for your hospitality. I had an absolute blast - see you next year!

A day in Byron Bay keeps the blues away

2010-04-24T17:12:00.000+10:00

Byron Bay - Wednesday 14th April 2010

So I realise that I’ve left the story dangling somewhat... but the best of Byron Bay became apparent as the sun came up on the aptly named First Sun Caravan park the next morning.

During the night it had poured down rain and I got up at some point to wind the hatch down on the caravan. I was hoping that the rain wouldn’t stick around as I had hoped to get about and take some photos of the lighthouse before heading back home.

I awoke, as I always seem to do on the road, at sunrise. A quick peek out the window of my cosy new caravan-abode revealed sunny skies. Yay! So I snuck out quietly and left Trent sleeping grabbed the camera and took the back gate onto the beach to catch those first rays of yet another new day. And what a beach! The perfect semi-circle of the distinctive bay stretches out as far as the eye can see in both directions. I’m thinking: “Wouldn’t it be great to gallop a horse along here!” and of course; “Bas would love this!” I'm still missing him heaps...

Unlike the murky post-cyclonic snarling swells of the north Queensland road trip, the ocean at Byron Bay glistens like a turquoise jewel. Early morning surfers did their thing with large pods of playful dolphins as healthy joggers with toned and taught bods smiled and said hello as they jogged along the sand.

After taking a bit of time to soak it all in, I went back to the caravan and woke Trent up and suggested a pre-breakfast walk to the lighthouse.

The walk took us along the main beach, up the wooden stairs up the side of the rock that reminded me of Lion Rock at Piha to a lookout.

Then we went up and over the hill to the eastern most point lookout where the waves smashed into the rugged black rocks and the blue of the clear sky was the same colour as the crystal clear water. Just beautiful!

There it was – that iconic white and blue Byron Bay lighthouse. High up on the hill with its turrets and whitewashed stonework it looks like a castle, like it’s been there forever. I challenge Trent to a guessing game to see if we can work out when it was built. I say 1880, he says 1830. As we get to the top of the very last set of what really are a lot of steps the sea breeze is a welcome relief. At this point I start thinking about breakfast and realise that it’s about an hour and a half in that direction! I notice that the numbers above the impressively large door frame of the lighthouse read “1901”. I choose to see that as a win for me.

A beautiful day in a beautiful place that I am putting high on my ‘must-visit-this-place-again’ list. And yet another happy caravanning adventure under my belt and even more desire to have more of them...

From Byron Bay the few hours drive home to the Sunshine Coast seemed a breeze. That night I slept soundly in my own bed again and dreamed of long road trips, cute retro caravans and white sandy beaches...

Blissful Byron Bay

2010-04-13T22:28:00.000+10:00

Byron Bay - Tuesday 13th April, 2010 9pm

Today's trip was from Tuncurry, NSW to Byron Bay - I am now only about 3 hours from home and feeling tired but a lot better for being here.

Today was fun - I picked up the Viscount and she is a little beauty! Driving during the day I got to see all that I had missed out on during the trip down in the dark. The scenery was beautiful and it was the perfect day for driving - clear blue skies, a slight cool breeze. Nice! We crossed many rivers and narrow bridges as we headed back North from the lakes district and back into banana and sugar cane country.

Of course, continuing on my theme of "the van with the big..." series of photos - I had to stop (and park illegally mind you!) for the compulsory van-with-the-big-banana (Coffs Harbour), and van-with-the-soon-to-be-decommissioned-big-prawn shots (Ballina) before we headed off the Pacific Highway and onto the Coast Road through Lennox Heads and into that sumptious, lush wildnerness that surrounds Byron Bay.

After settling into the most conveniently-placed "First Sun" Caravan Park right on the beach in the heart of Byron Bay it was time to enjoy a long hot shower, some electricity and to take in the nightlife of Byron on a Tuesday night which is, surprisingly, quite vibrant! We just came back from having a pasta meal and a glass of wine and a taste of some local live music at the funky "Railway Friendly Bar". Tired now, so I'm going to crawl into bed - Trent has already crashed out and he wasn't even the one driving!

Tomorrow we'll have time for a quick swim in the surf and I'm hoping to get some nice photos of that famous lighthouse - then it will be back on the road for the homeward journey - back to life - and back to reality!

But I am pretty sure there'll be many more adventures to come from now on...

On the road again...Direction: South

2010-04-13T22:05:00.000+10:00

Tuncurry, NSW Tuesday 13th April 2010 9am

Like that old song says...
Back on the road again.

Mad road trip number two: Maleny to Tuncurry, NSW (750kms).

There was no point stopping on this one – Once I had decided to hit the road again, I was off. I had one last job to finish up before I could send an invoice off and get back on the road; that place where my thoughts seem to take a somewhat more linear tack, kind of like the road ahead, you just keep going somehow.

I am really upset at Bas’ decision to not come home to his Mum this time. He’s decided to live with his dad. I spent a full 24 hours crying before I realised that moping about in the house was not going to make the pain go away. I keep having flash backs of the awesome caravanning road trip we shared only two weeks ago. I will treasure that experience and those memories we made more than ever now.
So, back to the road it was, and where Bas and I were last happy together is where I wanted to be. Overcoming my natural urge to want to ask one of my kids if they'd share this one with me, I hesitated - there was this lingering fear of being made to feel ludicrous somehow - the worry of not being who or what they expect a mother to be. I decided I needed it to be OK to be me right now and so instead I phoned a friend.
"Road trip?" I asked.
"Sure!" was his reply. (Thanks Trent - you're a legend mate!)
So now I had back-up should the saddies hit too hard and to help ward of any potential tragic events such as unexpected mishaps and breakdowns (to both the car or myself!).
I picked Trent up from Brisbane at 6pm and we then hit the road straight away.

Having just done the Northern Queensland run, this time I was heading South. Driving at night is great, there’s less traffic on the road and time and landmark towns seem to slip by so much quicker. As the halfway point came and then went, it seemed another 100ks was too easy to do. So I pushed on through until 2am when I finally arrived at my destination; Tuncurry - to take delivery of the sweetest little 1965 Viscount Duravan, the latest addition to my caravan family and an irresistable bargain. A quick phone call to Tuncurry Beach Caravan Park earlier int he day had made me aware that they were definitely not open to taking late check in, so I parked on the beach for the night and we slept in the car.

I woke up this morning at sunrise as I seem to do when I'm on the road. I love the feeling of waking up somewhere completely new. I went for a quick wander to snap a few pics only to discover this sleepy little lakeside town a buzz with senior activity; bather-clad grannies were already swimming laps in the rock pool while other oldies were walking their fluffy little dogs around the edge of the lake in the early sunrise glow. Yachts and fishing boats moored along the shore and Norfolk Pines thrust their arms out to embrace the new day. What a gorgeous spot!

I just made us breakfast on the beach and we are about to pick up the caravan - then it's off to Byron Bay for a night before heading back home on Wednesday.

Still missing Bas terribly, I find myself going over and over what could have been done or said to make it all better.
Fill those anguished moments with new memories and adventures - that's all I know how to do...

Homeward bound

2010-04-03T22:06:00.000+10:00

MALBOROUGH (ROCKHAMPTON) TO SUNSHINE COAST - Wednesday 31st March 2010 (650kms)

Waking up in a truck stop surrounded by Trucks and bleak bushland couldn’t have been any further from the bliss of waking up to that first sunrise of our trip at Bargara beach.
We awoke to the sounds of trucks moving on and while Bas tucked into a full bacon and eggs truckies breakfast inside, I organised the window repair job with the onsite manager of the truck stop. As rough and gruff as they were, the truckies were all well-meaning enough and not so scary in the light of day and the boss Bill turned out to be quite a saint. With his bunged-up and braced knee he hobbled around the back yard filled with old signs and a dilapidated old caravan and various other pieces of junk and scrap before finally settling on a brand new piece of ply from inside the storage room at the back of the shop. Having cut it to size, I held the board in place while he screwed it into the framework.

It was at this moment that APN Online called via conference call to interview me for a community editor’s position.
“Is now a good time?” they ask
“Not really”, I say, “Would you mind calling back in half an hour?” with one hand on the ply wood and the other holding the mobile phone. Not a good first impression I am sure! But they did ring back and the interview was going really well, right up until the point that the phone reception cut out and I lost them again. And this time they didn’t ring back.

Fuelled up and ready to drive all the way home, and relieved to have only been charged $25 for our emergency window repair, we stopped off for a visit to Capricorn Caves just an hour away on the outskirts of Rockhampton. For $33 for the two of us we were taken on a guided tour of the awesome caves which was well worth the stopover.

I also bought a very kitsch and tacky souvenir T-Towel for the caravan from the gift shop with a map of Queensland on it and marvelled at how much of the map we had actually covered.

Hitting the Bruce Highway again we headed even further south and just after lunch and yet another petrol stop we detoured off the main drag for a visit to the coastal town of James Cook’s discovery of Australia – The oddly named Town of 1770 and for a quick swim at Agnes Waters beach. Then we just drove and drove and drove from the back road to Bundaberg and on to Harvey Bay, Maryborough and Gympie until finally the road opened up, street lights began to appear and we were home, back on the Sunshine Coast at last. We arrived home in Maleny at around 8.30pm completely exhausted, a little bit stressed and eagerly anticipating the long-awaited sleep-in in our own beds.

So now it’s all over and we are slowly getting used to being home again. Of course, we’re still recovering and it’s still amazing me how much of Queensland we managed to fit into one week, but despite the glitches I think that overall it was a successful trip. It was an adventure with a whole lot of memorable moments and adventures don’t always go to plan. But, hey it’s a story! And after all, what is life for but the creation of stories...

Thanks Bas for being the bestest travel buddy ever!

What goes up must come down...

2010-04-03T20:46:00.000+10:00

TOWNSVILLE TO MARLBOROUGH (ROCKHAMPTON) – Tuesday 30th March 2010 (650KM)

Once again the heading of this entry was supposed to read “Townsville to Bundaberg”. But our run of good luck had run out some time last night until it seemed that the further down the coat we went, the worse things got. Having said our goodbyes to our kind and Valiant saviours we set off for the second to last leg of the journey with the intention of pushing on through past Bowen to our very first stopover Bagara Beach in Bundaberg as we had planned to do after Bowen anyway. It was as easy as making up the 200km difference between Townsville and Bowen and we would be still on schedule to arrive back in Maleny on Wednesday as planned. From Bargara beach it is only around three hours to home, so it would be nice to wake up on that lovely beach one last time and have a relatively cruisy ride home.

Ah, the best made plans...

About ten minutes down the highway and just after the turnoff from Townsville to Ayr and “BOOM! CRASH! SMASH!” – A large semi-trailer truck whizzed past us and the side windows towards the front of my caravan literally exploded out sideways. I pulled over as soon as I could. There was no way we could risk driving the 1,000kms home with two missing windows. With no other options available, I embarrassedly phoned Shane and Melissa again. They said of we drove back to their place they would ply up the windows for us as Melissa is a cabinet and kitchen maker. So we did, and they did, but I really felt we were pushing the very new friendship by this point, and I think they probably did too. More copious thanks and praise and we set off once again. Determined to make up for lost time, I stocked up on the energy drinks with the intention of driving the crazy 1100kms and drive most of the night to get to Bargara as originally planned for that day.

From there it was straight past Mackay and through Sarina and into the “badlands” that long, long stretch of nothingness that is the Mackay to Rockhampton stretch. No houses, no mobile phone reception, no petrol stations, no nothing. Just 350 kilometres of absolute desolation. I had filled up just before Mackay, so I expected that we should have enough to get us through to Rockie. I was wrong. Things started to get precariously low at around 9pm one hundred kilometres from Rockie in a place in the middle of nowhere called Malborough so when a truck stop and petrol station finally loomed ahead I gladly pulled over.

It was then that I noticed that we were once again missing a window. The ply Mel had screwed in had come lose and this time it had taken the whole aluminium window frame with it. The truckies warned me against driving on without a window. Bas was not keen to stay at this wild desolate place and I must admit I wasn’t feeling super secure about it either, but at least a couple of truckies had stories to tell of exploding caravans who had literally disintegrated before their eyes on the highway because a bit of air had got into the vans. Not willing to risk that possibility I took up the truck stop owner’s offer to park the van around the back for the night with the promise that he would ply it back up for us first thing in the morning.

I cried myself to sleep that night – a truck stop in the badlands was not the beach stop in Bargara I had hoped for and I wondered what else could possibly go wrong.

Expect the unexpected – or how loving a Valiant saved my ass

2010-04-01T11:35:00.000+10:00

CAIRNS – TOWNSVILLE (Monday 29th March 2010)
The heading of this entry should have read ‘Cairns to Bowen’. Well that was the plan anyway. But with an absolutely perfect run so far, I guess we almost had to expect that something would go wrong eventually. Still, as far as things going wrong go, I’m still pinching myself over the uncanny nature of this particular “hiccup”.
After a pancake breakfast and pineapple juice at Cockie’s Cafe and a quick chat to our camping neighbours at the idyllic Palm Cove Caravan Park, we hit the road at around 11am yesterday. The neighbour had recommended we make the 10km detour on the road heading south of Cairns to check out Josephine falls. Bas was also keen to hit up the Cairns skate park again so we decided to head into Cairns via a bike repair shop to get a new tyre and tube for the BMX so he could get his last dose of the awesome park before the long trip home.
We set off from Cairns at around 1.30 pm and planned the 550km trip with a couple of stop overs at Josephine Falls and Mission Beach to have us in Bowen by around 9pm.
Josephine Falls were incredible, and the ten minute walk through lush dense rainforest to get to them was a welcome break for our car-bound legs. Recent flooding and cyclonic rains saw the waterfall become a raging torrent with the power unlike anything I had seen since my trip to Niagara Falls back in 1990. Even so, the water ran crystal clear and I regretted not bringing the water bottles to grab some of that living vibrant water for later, but I did scoop as much of it as I could into my hands and made sure I drank my fill.

Off again the next detour was the link road to Mission Beach – about 30 km off the Bruce Highway. Once again, a detour well worth making. Mission Beach was everything I’d heard it was; long stretches of white sandy beach, coconut palms lapping at its’ edges and rainforest all around.I stopped for plenty of photo opportunities – the van at the Mission Beach sign, the van at Clump Point with Hinchinbrook Island in the back ground, the van in front of the big Cassowary. Bas was not so impressed...

Finally it was back onto the Bruce for a planned run all the way through to Bowen. The time was 3.30pm. By 7.20pm we were about 20km out of Townsville and about 200km away from Bowen and looking good. By this stage the fuel was getting precariously low so I was relieved to see a Mobil petrol station up ahead. Got back in the car, turned the key and – nothing! The car has up and died completely, no lights, no spark, no central locking – nothing. I sat there for a few minutes praying to the vehicular gods and goddesses, Saint Christopher and did a hoodu voodoo dance around the car and stroked her and pleaded for mercy. I regretted not taking out roadside assistance with RACQ before I left and pondered my options. It was clear we were not going to make to Bowen tonight.

“Who can I call?” I thought and then it struck me. I’m just outside of Townsville. The couple with the gorgeous silver Valiant Station wagon who had so kindly invited us around to their house and offered to fix my car’s clunking lived just North of Townsville, so I gave them a call. It turns out that Yabullu petrol station is their local servo, and we are only ten minutes from their house. Shane and his neighbour Murray drive around with jumper leads and, wouldn’t you know it, it’s a flat battery. And, as luck would have it, the Yabullu Mobil just happens to carry new batteries. Murray and Shane take to the tools and five minutes and much thanks and praise later, we are back on the road.
By then it was 8.45pm and it was clear that driving the extra two hours to Bowen was not a good idea, so Shane said we might as well park the van at their place, and get a good start in the morning. I say copious prayers and thanks to all the powers I had called on and my doubt that there ever really was a thing called coincidence has been blown out of the water once and for all.
Of all the places we had stopped along the way; of all the remote, out of the way dingy little petrol stations I had filled up at and all those random off-the highway detours we had made, we broke down here – ten minutes down the road from a couple of Valiant-collecting rev heads with a shed full of tools and cars in various states of restoration who just happen to have given us their details. All this because I stopped to admire one gorgeous 1966 silver Valiant Station wagon on the side of the road on Friday night.

Now that’s synchronicity...

Shhhhhhh.... Don’t tell anyone!

2010-03-29T12:47:00.000+10:00

DAY SIX: PALM COVE - Monday 29th March 2010 8.30am

After Bas had fulfilled his dream and worn himself ragged riding the BMX around the Cairns skate park for a couple of hours in the drizzling rain, it was time to fulfil one of mine. We finally hit the road again at 9.30pm on Sunday and headed north towards Port Douglas to my dream destination – Palm Cove.

I stayed here a couple of years ago on an all-too-brief weekend visit to Cairns and Port Douglas for a friend’s birthday party. Back then I stayed at Peppers Resort but on my morning wander along the beach I discovered this incredible little caravan park on the exact same stretch of beachfront road as the swanky spa resorts. I vowed then to come back here one day when I got my own caravan and now here I am. Isn’t life wonderful?
We pulled in just after 10pm and the gate was open so we just parked and crashed. I went up to the office this morning to pay my $20 fee and get a key to the toilets. I apologised for not phoning ahead and explained that I hadn’t been able to find their details in any of the caravan park directories or on the net.

”I know”, the manager says with a sly smile, “That’s the way we like it”.

She gave me the number “for next time” but made me promise not to give it out to anyone, and I won’t, because just like this is the way I like it too.
I woke up this morning around 7am and went for a wander along the beach front esplanade taking lots of photos and wishing I could stay here forever. I’ve spotted a nice cafe where I plan to take Bas for a pancake breakfast when he wakes up, but today I think I’ll let him sleep in a bit. It’s overcast and rainy with a lovely sea breeze and we can hear the sound of the waves crashing just across the road from our camp site. We have a prime ocean frontage position with sea views for which the resort dwellers down the road would be paying hundreds of dollars a night. Silly fools!
The weather isn’t exactly beach worthy, and there’s still the feel of a recent cyclone about the place. But the coconut palms are a-swaying, the waves are a-crashing and in my little portable home we are high, dry and very cosy indeed.

We might as well linger and enjoy this moment because the long journey homeward starts today and we have 2,000 kilometres ahead of us. But we’ve both agreed that we’d love to do this again when we have a bit more time – take a few weeks and really get to see all those little beaches, waterholes and forests along the way. We’re also talking about the possibility of doing another trip out west sometime for a taste of red dirt, desert sunsets, the outback and big red rocks.
Yes, the bug has well and truly hit.....

We’ve come this far...

2010-03-28T21:17:00.000+10:00

DAY FIVE: TOWNSVILLE – CAIRNS (ABOUT 350KM) Sunday 28TH March 2010

Bas had a great day at State Championships today. He was coming third in Triple Jump right up until the last jump when he was just pipped out by a boy from the Gold Coast and ended up placing a very respectable fourth with a jump of 10.79m. So I am a very proud Mummy today.

Not having to hang around for medal presentations, we opted to hit the road instead of staying the planned extra night in Townsville. Cairns is only 350km from Townsville and Bas was tempted by what he had heard was one of the best night-lit skate parks in Australia. On the way up we had a quick stop-over just outside of Townsville to visit a couple we had met on the Strand on Friday night with their to-die-for fully restored silver 1966 VC Valiant. The beach front Strand in Townsville on a Friday night is like a permanent car show with hot rods, restored classics and muscle cars all lining the street while their owners catch up, show off and share tips. After having stopped to admire the dreamy Val Shane kindly took a look under my car to see what the returning “Clunking” sound was all about. Apparently it was a missing sway bar rubber and was easily fixed and not a safety issue so that was a relief. He said if I picked up the part and brought it out to their place he would fix it for me and I could check out the rest of their classic car collection.

Seeing as they were on the way up north, we decided to take them up on their offer. Shane and Melissa and their new bubby Casey were only too happy to offer us a cold drink and a peek inside their very impressive garage – two more restored Valiants including a 1969 sky blue convertible with white roof and upholstery, a very gorgeous purple 1970 Dodge Charger a couple of projects on the go and still more works in progress around the back. Not bad at all. I took heaps of photos and promised to send them a copy of any articles I use them in.

We hit the road again at about 3.30pm and after filling up pretty much drove straight to Cairns. This leg has definitely been the highlight of the whole trip so far. We passed lush mountain ranges and tropical rainforests that reminded me a bit of our part of the world in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland. We’re hoping to pop in to Mission Beach on the way back down but today we just wanted to get here to say that we’d done it!

Well, we arrived here about an hour ago and thanks to our earlier planning and Google maps we soon found the beach front skate park right in the city on the Esplanade.
So Bas is out there on the BMX now absolutely loving it. He says he wants to move here and bring all his friends. I have parked the caravan right next to the park and am writing this at the table and lounge of the van. I’ve got the van door open so I can watch Bas as I write and the bright lights of the skate park are providing all the light I need. Our plan is to grab some dinner and head out to palm Cove Caravan Park which is only about half an hour out of town North for a good night’s sleep and for the experience of waking up on a palm lined beach in tropical North Queensland.

Mega Road trip!

2010-03-27T22:39:00.001+10:00

Sunshine Coast – Townsville (approx. 1600kms) Wednesday 24th - Friday 26th March 2010

For QLD Little Athletics State Championships 27-28th march

What a mission! On the morning of the day of our scheduled departure I had the car at the mechanics doing last minute repairs to the sway bar pin kit to eliminate an annoying clunking sound and was still running around trying to find the exact type of wheel and tyre to use as a spare for the 40-year old caravan. Finally, all set to go and my pay still hadn’t come through... panic!

Not able to postpone any longer with over 1,500 km ahead of me to get Bas to State athletics on Saturday, I hit the road at 4pm with assurances that my pay would be coming through that night.

DAY ONE: Sunshine Coast – Bundaberg (about 300km)
A relatively easy drive and my excitement at finally having got it all happening fuelled me for this, the relatively easy first leg of the journey. I found myself chuckling all the way up the Bruce Highway. I can’t believe it. I’ve been dreaming about this for so long; about getting an old caravan, doing her up and taking long road trips to discover more of the real Australia. Having seen so much of the world this way with my parents when I was young and having fond memories of those crazy adventures with my dad across Europe and Morocco, the gypsy urge runs deep and sometimes staying still for too long starts to feel like entrapment.

I phone ahead at our chosen caravan park at Bargara Beach Caravan Park just east of Bundaberg in the morning before we leave home. I’ve planned to head coastward off the Bruce Highway each night to make the tip a bit more fun for Bas who loves the beach and the surf. Bargara is right next to Mon Repos Beach turtle hatching grounds and I’ve booked us in to view the baby turtles start their 150-year lives on this very beach. Turtle season ends at the end of March. Unfortunately due to pay-waiting delays we don’t get in to Bargara until after 8pm and so we just missed the turtle tour, but we will definitely schedule that one in for next year...Bargara Beach Caravan Park was just perfect for us. I woke up to watch the sun rise over the beach while surfers caught the early morning waves just across from our camp. There is also a great little skate park next to the beach not 50 metres from our camp and I feel so excited for Bas who is yet to wake up and see all this.
When he does wake up at around 8am he goes straight to the skate park with his BMX while I prepare us a porridge and LSA mix breakfast. We have breakfast by the beach and then hit the surf with the boogie board for a couple of hours before packing up and leaving Bundaberg for the mega drive of the trip to Mackay.

DAY TWO: Bundaberg – Mackay (about 800km)
The initial excitement starts to wear off sometime during this drive – there’s a whole lot of nothing on the Bruce Highway between these towns and I start to regret my decision to push through so far in one hit. We pass though Gin Gin and straight through to Queensland’s cattle town Rockhampton. I have to stop and refuel three times during this leg of the journey and even cruising at 100 kph it seems to take forever and there’s not much to look at along the way. The stretch between Rockie and Mackay is so dull that the only thing interesting about it is the yellow reflective road signs that say: “Are we there yet?”, “Still a long way to go kids” and “How much longer dad? (and Mum)” and the squashed kangaroos on the road.
We veer off the Bruce Highway again to head out to Bucasia Beach caravan Park which is still very much suffering from the effects of last weekend’s cyclone. With coconut palms and a secluded beach it has a real tropical castaway island feel to it.
The Bucasia Beach caravan Park isn’t much to write about and for the price ($35 compared to $26-$30 a night for a powered site for the two of us everywhere else), the facilities were a tad under par. It pelted down rain that night and the new waterproofing job I’d only just had done on the caravan roof days before we left was put to the ultimate test. It passed with flying colours – the van stayed dry and the extra thick polyurethane coating doubles as a bonus sound muffler dulling the sound of rain on tin nicely.

DAY THREE: Mackay – Townsville (about 500km)
Despite intermittent rain bas and I hit the beach in the morning with the boogie board for a couple of hours – Bas swam over to his very own a sand island while I collected shells and driftwood along the beach.
We packed up and gave the caravan a good scrubbing to get rid of all the bugs we had collected from the night before’s drive and hit the road at around 11am again – destination Townsville.We made a quick detour off the highway around half way to see the famed Airlie beach and have a quick swim and discovered that Airlie Beach isn’t a beach at all but a bay, full of boats, yachts and with a string of pretty green island in the distance and lots of quaint-looking shops and eateries and kind of like Noosa with lots and lots of tourists. Bas and I agreed that it was not our cup of tea at all, made a quick U-turn and decided to push on through to Townsville.

We get to Bowen and take the compulsory photo of the van in front of the big mango – and set off once more. We arrived at Rowes bay Caravan Park in Townsville last night at 6pm and it’s beautiful. The facilities make the last park look like a slum. Immaculate toilet blocks, well-uquipped camp kitchen with fridges, stoves, toasters and kettles supplied. It has lots and lots of trees, palms and greenery and a real homely feel to it. It reminds me of my old caravan park, the Village Caravan Park in Park Ridge, Brisbane. Once again, we are right across the road from the beach but alas there are no waves. Bas declares that a beach without surf is not a beach at all in his opinion and I agree that they should call them bays or harbours instead. But we are also two minutes drive to the city, the strand and the sporting complex, and that, after all, is the real reason we came on this trip at all.

Bas competed in Long Jump today and came a very respectable fifth with a jump of 5.16m. Tomorrow he has Triple Jump. We are happily ensconced in our caravan and loving the road-tripping life.

The bonus for me with this trip is being able to share it with my son. Not having travelled as much as me, he did not initially share my excitement for this trip. He’d have rather flown up. I couldn’t afford the fares so it wasn’t a choice. “It’ll be fun”, I cajoled. I knew he’d soon discover that it is. And he has. We arrived in Townsville yesterday after three days driving and two awesome coastal detour stop-overs. Now he’s hassling me to take an extra day and keep going up to Cairns and I must admit I’m tempted...

Inspired by Anastatsia

2010-03-06T20:12:00.000+10:00

I am now up to book five of the Ringing Cedars series of books written by Vladimir Megre about the Russian forest-dwelling recluse Anastasia.
I have always taken notice of things that come to me in threes - if I hear a name, place, concept or book mentioned from three different sources on three separate ocassions I take that as a very clear sign from the universe that I need to listen. That is what happened for me with these books. I first heard about them while I was staying down at Crystal Waters in the camping area.

I had initially sought out Crystal Waters when I was looking for some kind of healthy living community that shared the ideals I had so long held to be true for me; that healthy living cannot be obtained in a city environment, eating overly processed and adulterated foods, drinking stale water and surrounded by electromagnetic interferances of all kinds. At Crystal Waters I found my peaceful place, my insomnia was instantly cured - I slept soundly to the sound of crickets and the rustling of wind through tall trees and was awoken to the dawning of a natural light and the chorus of bell birds. I thought I had died and gone to heaven and I wanted to move there.

I met a lady there called Kathy there who was looking for like-minded souls to join her in purchasing a large property to create a similar type of community. For around $20,000, she said, it could be done. As the price of real estate had long since exceeded the possibility of me ever owning a little patch of dirt for myself, I was very interested. She spoke of these Anastasia books and suggested I should read them. For whatever reason at the time, I did not.

I did move away from the city though - and am now happily ensconced in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland. I look out over rolling green hills that extend uninterrupted by human construction for as far as the eye can see. I sleep to the sound of crickets instead of the hum of the city and awake to the chorus of birds instead of peak hour traffic. I sleep a deep and restful sleep and any of my city friends who visit me here remark on having the longest and most restful sleep they have ever experienced when they stay here. "Is it the altitude?", they ask. I live 530m above sea level - so no, it's not the altitude!
It's the clean air, the quiet, the absolute black darkness of night that had one of my friends quite amused as she said she spent the first ten minutes after she went to bed marvelling that she could not even see her hands as she waved them about in front of her own face. It's the cleansing sea breezes that roll across the undulating ridges to my perch on the very top of one of the highest points on this magnificent range. But what I belive makes this place so very magical and so bursting with creative energy is the water. While so much of Australia struggles under water restrictions and drought, it seems the water never stops flowing on this mountain top. Most of the rivers that flwo around here, start right up here on top of this mountain - not from melting snow like in so many other places in the world but bursting right out through the top of the earth from deep, deep down within it. Clean, clear, naturally filtered through miles and miles of sub-aqueous rocks the deep springs of the Artesian basin burst through the top of this range as though there were no where else they could possibly go. Add to that one of the highest rainfalls of any of the surrounding areas and you have all the ingredients for one very lush and bountiful place. A garden of Eden, paradise, the most glorious demonstration of abundance I have ever witnessed.

And that is why I love it here.

Even if I never spoke to another soul, looking out over these hills that were once covered in rainforest and swimming in any one of a number of breathtaking hidden waterholes and gorges that can be found amongst the lush bushland that has managed to survive excessive pastoralization, I think I would be happy here.
Whenever lifes petty troubles and stresses do get me down, I try to remind myself of that. And maybe the elevation does help. I must admit it's pretty hard to feel anything else but on top of the world when you feel like you are literally living there!

Well, I quit smoking not so long ago and all of a sudden I had this urge to finally read these books I had heard about from three different sources. When I asked about them at the library I was told that ten people before me were on the waiting list to borrow them. When I went to the local bookshop I asked; "Do you have the Ringing Cedars Books?"
"Of course we do! This is a Ringing Cedars town!", the shop keeper said. But she had to order in the one that I was after as it had sold out.
Now that I've been reading them, even that strange initial urge makes sense. Anastasia just makes everything make sense. At about book three I started wondering if reading these books was making me feel better, as she claims they will, or worse, as the forces against me seemed to rise somewhat just after I started reading them. Now, in book five, even that makes sense too!

I am now determined more than ever to help create the heaven on Earth I wrote about in my credo 22 years ago, to not lose faith, and to keep my focus on the possibility that the "one hundredth Monkey" effect will finally make this dream of mine a reality. The popularity of these books make me realise that I am not the only dreamer that has always had a feeling that the dream was what it was all about, that the dream was more real than "reality" was.

Like every step in this strange adventurous journey of mine, everything has always felt "meaningful" in some way. The supposed "coincidences" that have so often determined which direction I took have always increased in frequency in direct proportion to the correctness of my path. Even when it has all sucked, as it has so often for me, I felt there was a reason for it all.

And I know I came to this higher ground for a reason. Like so many of us up here, I just knew this was where I was supposed to be. I knew it had something to do with the water. That I'd be safe here should the waters rise, and that I'd always have access to pure clean water.

If I could have my own hectare of land like Anastasia predicts, I'd want to have it here. Of course I'll probably always have itchy feet. I'm sure my desire to wander and explore new things will never completely fade, but I'm pretty sure that most of that wanderlust has come from never really knowing where home was or where I belonged.

I wrote in my book that my search for "home" and my strong penchant for songs that spoke about home had often left me feeling like that little bird in Dr. Seuss' book Are you my mother?. That was before I read what Anastasia says. Now I know what I have been seeking is my own "Motherland", my space of love, that place where the nutrition I needed could be sown, grown and harvested and prepared for my family by my own hands instead of some stranger with no loving intent towards me or my kin.

Maybe I should rename this blog "My dream home is on one hectare of my own Motherland"!

Custom car shows rock!

2010-03-01T21:50:00.000+10:00

My new boss can't work out what it is about the whole custom (or if you wanna be really cool, you can call it "kustom") thing is all about. He knows that I want to write a heap of articles about my obsession with custom culture; restored classic cars, caravans, the whole rockabilly, retro, pin-up girl, burlesque thing. He swears that I'm the only nut that is even interested in that kind of thing and I'm doing my darndest to convince him otherwise. It's only been two weeks - give me time!

Anyway we went to the Morayfield Custom car Show on the weekend and I got to see some of the sweetest looking rides around. I'm not sure what was contributing more to the general humidity - the days of incessant rain we've had, or the combined drool of hundreds of jealous punters like me seriously contemplating ditching the late model Commodore for something a bit more stylish and original like a restored EH - in hot pink of course!
I'm no bogan and I'll admit that my knowledge of mechanics doesn't extend much beyond the ability to change a tyre and check the oil and water, but seeing goregous rides like that makes me want to learn. I was really impressed with how many of the owners of these restored beauties did a lot of the work themselves, and no, they weren't all mechanics, spray painters or professional upholsterers - to most of them this was their hobby -something they did on the weekends and in betwen working at regular 9-5 type jobs - a very expensive labour of love. Now where do I find myself a man like that? And if I did, would he love the car more than me? Would I get jealous of the amount of time he spent tinkering in the garage instead of tinkering on me?
Hmmmm...

Note to self: must look up basic mechanics courses for chicks.