The Aftermath: Winter is coming

After over nine weeks since the last post and over five weeks back in Sweden, I have finally gotten around to gearing myself mentally to write one last post. We are still jobless, it’s snowing and I have started to miss the tent. But let go back to where I left off, with us cussing the tent and life on the road as we headed into Brisbane.

We started off with a night at Ric and Lorelle’s. It was lovely to see them, and we had a nice catch up over beers and home cooked food, which was much nicer than 3min noodles and pasta stir-in, even if I’ve forgotten what we had…

Here's to beers and static homes

The next day we were about to start our second housesit, a place in Thorneside that had a pool. We had been due to do one in Fig Tree pocket, but they had pulled out a few weeks earlier after their daughter had split up with her boyfriend and cancelled all her New Year plans due to some sort of emotional PTSD. The stupid twat was 23 and you’d think old enough to realise she’d be fine by New Year, but the mother didn’t want to listen to that argument and said her daughter would take care of the place with her friend. The place in Thorneside looked very nice in the one photo they had supplied (that should have been a warning), and we were looking forward to looking after their two cats.

We had a rude awakening when we arrived at the house of chaos. The house owners were a couple of Kiwis with a kid about 5-10 years old. They were heading home for Xmas and were running late for their uber to the airport. After a short introduction and some rough guides about what we should do about the cat that pisses everywhere, they were gone. They hadn’t even cleared a space in the fridge, which was packed with opened perishables. There were whiteboards all over the house with reminders to help them not fuck up and little pearls of wisdom such as “a clean house is a sign of a wasted life”… well they certainly weren’t wasting theirs! After a few hours of wasting ours, trying to put some degree of organisation to the house, we finally got to enjoy the pool.

Pool party

Not really much happened over the next week. We just sat about the house doing very little but interacting with the cats, drinking and swimming in the pool (Becky was less keen on the pool, but still managed a few swims). On Christmas day Ric and Lorelle came over with some lovely salads, and we had a nice day with them. They even managed to get us to take a short walk, but they conceded it was too hot really and we quickly returned to drink and eat more at the house.

A classic European christmas

A few days later Adam and Sarah came round. We didn’t take any photos of them, mainly as Adam and I spent most of the day in the pool, coming up with different games (throw the ball in the life ring, throw the ball in the life ring while jumping in the pool, dunk the ball in the life ring while jumping in the pool, throw the ball at the other persons face, water polo penalties, water polo penalties using headers only, timed search and rescue, and so on) and Becky and Sarah just watched on bemused. During our time in the house that chaos built we managed to sell all our camping gear, including the tent and fridge. But the best thing was just enjoying our time with the cats. They were lovely little things, even the one that pissed over some of our gear. I also drank loads of beer and whiskey, and then to switch things up I decided not drink on New Years Eve, probably the first time in 30 years.

Fluffy and Cleo

Becky bonds with Fluffy

The couple returned from their holiday on the 1^st in the same chaotic fashion in which they had left. We were supposed to look after the place again between the 15^th and the 18^th, but as we were leaving one of them mentioned their family were coming to stay and there would be 12 people in the house before they left. Seeing how little order there was with three of them, the thought of coming there with 12 fuckwits flailing around in their own shit before leaving was too much. We texted them later to make our excuses, telling them we wouldn’t be able to help after all. The whole house sitting thing had served a purpose, but it wasn’t something I’d be keen to do again. Living in someone else’s house is just weird, and both places were a bit shit. Plus, the woman from Fig Tree Pocket, who’d cancelled because of her daughter’s inability to rationally deal with a break-up, had called us after Xmas and asked if we’d be interested in house sitting again, as the daughter had gotten back together with the bloke. We said we were interested, but then she called back 10 minutes later to say her daughter had found one of her friends to do it. I hope that friend had a huge party over New Year, fucked up their house and someone shat in their bed. 

With the New Year signalling the end of the “trip”, all we were left with was selling the car, booking a ticket home and leaching off friends. The first week we stayed with Adam and Sarah. We really didn’t do anything productive that week, mainly drinking and a bit of boxing in Adam’s garage. Adam had also just bought a jacuzzi, which we would sit and drink in after training (I would, Becky didn’t like the idea of sitting in warm water with two blokes who’d only hosed themselves down in the garden after training before getting in). It was an enjoyable week.

Best to keep your hands visible

We had our stuff picked up and shipped off that week too. It is due to arrive in Sweden next week, with the added surprise of a port fee of ~$470 (3200SEK) that we weren’t expecting. This means it cost us ~$1700 to ship what was left of our life in Australia. Not much for nine years! Although the most important thing is the blue passport they gave us so we can return if the weather in Europe gets too much and starts to impact my cheery outlook. Seriously, cold weather isn’t a fun thing to live with.

See you in Sweden

For the following week we went to stay with Ric and Lorelle, thereby spreading the burden, it’s a strategy that all good parasites use. We also got to say goodbye to some other friends, by joining a breakfast club event we had otherwise avoided when we lived in Brissie, due to it being too early on Sunday mornings…

Which ones Molly Ringwald?

We also sold the car to a guy that came across as a fucking freak over texts, but when we finally succumbed to selling it to him (I initially didn’t want to) we managed to get $7000 for it. We were both relieved to have it gone, even if we’d bought it for $13500 nine months earlier (although this included $500 of stamp duty). In summary, we both hated the car by the end, it had been a pain in the arse and wasn’t that comfy, particularly after 4-5 hrs of driving. In that nine months we’d travelled over 29000km (18000 miles), of which 5700km (3500 miles) were on unsealed roads of varying quality. Considering where we’d driven it, the issues it had at the end and the lack of road worthy certificate, we felt we did OK with $7000. During the actual trip we’d used 4830 litres of petrol (1063 gallons), averaging 17.6 ltr/100km (min 14.9, max 21.66: translates to 16mpg, 19mpg-13mpg). With petrol costing on average $1.38 per litre (min $1.12 in Adelaide, max 2.22 in Warburton), we’d spent $6700 on petrol, plus another $4500 on services, an air filter, batteries, tyres, exhausts and degreasing an oily engine. Aside from the money spent on the car, the six months (End of June to 1^st Jan) on the road had cost us the better part of $18000. Turns out road trips are expensive. Of that we spent $3200 on 27 nights we’d fled the tent to the comfort of a nice hotel. For the rest of the 186 nights, we’d spent 33 nights in other people’s houses and 126 nights in our tent under the stars, and overall enjoyed what I’d guestimate to be about 160 days of sunshine.  To my mind, it was worth every penny.

Quickly, walk away before something else falls off

I also went into my former place of work, UQ, several times that week. It was a chance to say goodbye (again) to the many (read few) friends I had made there. I also helped Steve finish a paper I left with him when I fucked off around Australia. It was pretty pointless for me, as I’m no longer continuing as an academic and wasn’t getting paid, but I felt I should help get it over the line because I’m a nice guy. We also got to have a final dinner with the few people who could still stomach me, or maybe they just wanted to make sure I was definitely leaving for good.

They made me swear I was definitely leaving this time

With the limit reached with R&L, we packed up and headed back to Adam and Sarah’s, and returned to the drinking/training/jacuzzi/eating lifestyle.

Statler and Waldorf haven't aged well

I also got to go to PCYC boxing for a few sessions, driven there on the back of Adam’s bike. I like to think we looked like tough muthafuckers, but I’ll let you judge.

Bad boys, bad boys, what you gonna do, what you gonna do when they come for you?

With the car sold, our gear shipped and tickets to Sweden booked, we had nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. After wasting a few days with A&S, we headed to New Zealand to see our old friends, Jamie and Alex. My friendship with Jamie stretches back to my late teens when we both had more hair on our heads than our arses, and this was a chance for us to catch up and mourn our friend, Rich.

 The old gangs of Landsdown and Claverton Down make peace

It's not gay if it's in a three way

We had a great time with them and they looked after us well. We spent the time eating, drinking and talking about old times and new.

Combined we have a full head of hair

Back in Aus, we started prepping for the big leave. After a lovely goodbye meal with R&L, we spent the last few days with A&S. While they were at work we hired a car so we could get some final rainforest action at Tambourine Mountains on one day

Tambourine man

and had a final beach day at Caloundra the next.

Beaches ain't shit, but tricks and hoes

It also gave us the chance for a final swim in the lovely warm seas of the tropics.

The last swim for a few years

The final weekend we celebrated Aussie day, drank, shot arrows, drank, played playstation, drank, did some boxing training, drank and sat in the Jacuzzi drinking. Before we knew it we were heading for the airport and back to Europe... in the winter... to look for work. We have been back for a little over a month and we are still jobless and homeless. But perhaps as I have spent six months moaning and complaining about the little niggles that come with an adventure that only a privileged few can even consider doing, I should change tact and start to try and see the positives in my life. So here is to the future, and the inevitability of our death, cheers!. 

Will do anything for money

And now the end is near, and so we face our final curtain.

Packing up and getting back in the shitty crusier did not fill us with any joy. It felt like a good time to leave Mt Fox, but the thought of the tent was only a marginal improvement. We said our teary goodbyes to the horses and chooks, but didn’t worry about the characterless ducks, and drove out of Mt Fox for the last time. We decided to cut the journey to Brisbane into 5 days and 4 nights, that way we wouldn’t have to spend too much time in the car on any one day. That first day we would drive as far as we could, but incorporate a few stops on the way, including Jourama Falls. It took us a couple of hours to get there, only to discover it was a good 4km walk to the actual falls. It was too hot and there were a shit load of mosquitos hanging about, so we walked ~500m, took a shot of the creek then broke for lunch at a lovely little spot you could drive to.

Seen it, so lets bounce

After lunch neither of us could be bothered with the hassle of having a swim and all the shebang of having to dry yourself, hang all the wet clothes and towels and all that shit. So we fucked off sharpish, not really knowing where we’d be spending the night. Although the number of hours of light left in the day would put us in the Bowen region, we decided against calling in unannounced again on Kris and Nan, feeling this would be a little too much of a piss take of their generosity. Instead we drove a little further to a cheap campsite called Taylorwood Tourist Park, and it was full of my favourites, backpackers. The cheapness shone through in the maintenance and general up keep of the place. Becky went to the unisex bathroom, and came back scarred by what she said was one of the worst toilets she’d seen. I took a look expecting the worse, and found what I consider a toilet in average condition; it didn’t even have any shit stains near the seat. At this point we realised that we’d had very different toilet experiences on this holiday and when toilets are shared ladies come out a lot worse off. Maybe equality in all areas is not a good thing, and perhaps someone should tell the feminists.

The place wasn’t all bad, particularly a cute dog that kept bounding about wanting us to throw sticks for it. The owners of the park had written notes to say we shouldn’t throw sticks for it, so I just tried to do it on the sly.

Making friends where ever we go

Despite playing with the dog in the morning, we still managed to get packed up and on our way reasonably quickly. We were only going to drive a short distance that day, stopping at Cape Hillsbourgh national park for a night. The campsites there were great, and luckily we were early enough to get a great spot away from people in an assigned area with no neighbours. The site was right on the beach, and the sea looked very inviting. I asked the national park office on the phone if we could swim, but they told us there were warnings of marine stingers and estuarine crocodiles, so I took that as a no. Unable to swim we took our last walk along the beach for this holiday.

Lovely afternoon stroll

It was a very hot day and a swim would have been nice, but crocodiles and stingers aren’t nice. It was so picturesque that Becky decided to finish her yoga odyssey on a bang. She remembered herself being able to do the spider walk (Chakrasana), and thought this would be the ideal way to end. Unfortunately for her, our sedentary lifestyle of the past 6 months had left her unable to get anywhere close. Fortunately for me, it was fucking hilarious to watch, and I managed to take a few photos despite the tears of laughter. Unfortunately for you, she has forbidden me from sharing them on the blog. Instead she decided to finish with the far more dignifying standing one, Tadasana.

Yoga pose: "Jazz hands"

And with the excitement over, we returned to camp to drink and eat. Becky also saw a great opportunity to take some picturesque photos of the shit we want to sell, and as we were trawling through the gear we pulled out the toilet seat we’ve carried the whole journey and never used. We both agreed that even though we’d never used it, it had no resale value. So I decided we should at least use it once.

The seat IS up

After getting all the stuff photographed, we could finally relax again and enjoy our final bit of beach camping.

Lazing on a sunny afternoon

We had a lovely day, chatting and drinking in the baking heat, watching the tide go out and listening to the birds sing. As the evening came, Becky decided to try out the toilet seat for real, to see if it did help her pee in the bushes. She said I could share this one, so you can imagine how embarrassing the yoga photo must have been.

Marking her territory

While it helped not having to squat, she also ended up spraying the base of the toilet, meaning she had to clean it afterwards with baby wipes before it could be packed away. So, we carried a toilet seat around Australia that was, in fact, not really fit for purpose and definitely would have been a disaster if one of us had dared use it for a dump. The things you learn on the road.

The next morning we carried on our trip south. The camping so far hadn’t been that bad, but we were both really looking forward to getting out of the tent. We were ready for this to end. Becky had picked out Alkoomi Adventure Park as our stopover for the night. It was a working farm, and suited our needs perfectly. As the sun set some of the cows wandered near the tent giving us a lovely countryside feel.

With a moo-moo here, and a moo-moo there

There were very few other campers there, just us and two other campervans, but after dark another car turned up at the empty site. Can you guess where the fuckers parked? As it was the penultimate night, I really didn’t give two shits anymore. In fact it seemed quite funny, although Becky was still unable to see the funny side. In the morning we had the awkwardness encountering our close neighbours, trying to avoid eye contact whilst half awake. They were backpackers and slept in the car. They were so close I could tell one of them was French because she stank of Gitanes. Becky took a photo to again show you how little personal space some people have.

Two girls, one cup

After all that awkwardness we were, without much fuss, once again back on the road in the shitty crusier. For our last night we thought we’d spend the night at Wongi State Forest again. It had a nice swimming hole and there was only one other camper booked to stay there. When we got there, there was fella packing away. He came over and had a chat, telling us he worked as a journalist testing the Kings gear and asked us how we found the stuff. I started off being quite “English interacting with a stranger” about it, but then started to moan like an Englishman among friends, pointing out all the gear that had failed. It felt good to have a moan, even if nothing came of it. Having a moan always makes me feel good. Feeling refreshed by the moan, we went for a lovely swim in the creek.

Marking her territory again

It was a great spot, and we had a lovely cold refreshing swim. As I went for a shower, the only other person staying there mentioned that the ladies showers were much better than the males, and that they’d just installed brand new toilet bowls in both the male and female toilets that morning. Seeing as there were only three of us at the site, and two of us were male, I took the opportunity to christen the unused bowl in the female toilets that had not yet been soiled by Becky. It was great, and felt an apt last shit on the road, especially seeing how our toilet habits have been such a large part of the whole experience. Refreshed and emptied, we had our final drinks and din-dins and I got back to doing another large component of this holiday… writing this fucking blog.

My favourite pastime

As darkness fell we enjoyed our final night of drinking under the stars and started getting all teary eyed that our journey was coming to an end. The next morning we awoke to the sound of birdsong, sad that this was our final morning in our tent. We had been looking forward to getting off the road and into proper housing again, but now it was here we were sad that not only had we reached the end of the holiday, but also the end of an era and our nine years in Australia. We both knew that we were unlikely to be camping again any time soon, and there is a distinct possibility we may never again. And so we took in the beautiful view from our bed for the last time.

This little piggy went to market

We packed up for the last time, trying our hardest to take in the smells and sounds of the great Australian outdoors before starting up the crappy cruiser for the last leg of our journey. Even packing up the prick of a tent felt quite sad.

Never got easier

Packed up and ready to go, we went for a final swim in the creek, trying to savour every moment.

All good things...

Refreshed from our morning swim, we got in the car and waved goodbye to our nomadic lifestyle. As we drove out of the forest, we chatted nostalgically about our Australian adventures, our love of nature and wildlife and all the fantastic places we’d seen. Then the engine light came on, the nostalgia fog lifted and all I wanted to do was drive the piece of shit cruiser into the sea. For our next midlife crisis I'm getting a new sports car and Becky's getting yoga lessons.

THE END

The end of the road trip also signals the end of the blog. Although I am planning to write an epilogue about our final month in Australia, packing up, selling gear, saying our goodbyes, a few stats, highs and lows of the trip etc... this won’t be posted until February. I doubt many of you will remember to come back for that, so I'll thank the remaining 10 of you now for following our journey over the past 6 months. I hope you have enjoyed reading the blog, because I have fucking hated writing it.