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