Seeing Pink

Pink Cars & Caravans...

In my never-ending search for my perfect 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

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

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

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

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

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...

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.