BEING AN IMPETUOUS SOUL, one of the ongoing issues I have with being on the road, is the constant need to think ahead about what I want to do. Apart from the fact that I've always been the kind of person who likes to keep their options open, I'm finding it hard to actually think ahead so that if I do decide to go into town; go for a walk; buy some groceries etc., I have what I need with me to do that. Remember me telling myself, "Make sure you always have your camera with you" - well, don't ask me how many times I've set off on a walk and half a mile down the road, remember that I didn't bring my camera!
Before I go into a town, I have to work out what I want to do and what I need to do it. If I plan on having a shower, I have to make sure I have shampoo, conditioner, soap, towel, clean clothes. Depending on whether the shower has a curtain, I might need an extra towel to put on the floor just so I can dry my feet and step into my shoes without getting everything wet again. Some showers will be coin-operated, so I have to have a range of coins available to make sure I have the correct money. If I'm lucky, where I'm going will have a laundry as well, so then I have to make sure I have all my dirty clothes together and soap powder, some pegs, something to carry the laundry in; plus, I also have to work out how much time the clothes will need to dry or else I have to make sure I have enough coins for a dryer as well.
When I lived in a house, everything was automatic, I didn't have to think about it. If I needed to go to the toilet during the night, all I had to do was walk down the hall. Now, it seems that every night I need the toilet at 3am and of course, there's more involved - I have to judge whether I am camped somewhere where it's appropriate to just go and squat out in the bush; or make the long trek to the toilet block or pee in a bucket in the van and then take it over to the toilets in the morning. All this weighing up of the pros and cons of every little thing gets me down from time to time. As I said, thinking ahead has never been my forté.
Washing the dishes is another issue. I have to consider the ramifications of using both my water and gas resources. When you have to carry all your supplies with you, this is just a fact of life. How long am I going to be away from somewhere I can buy gas or get water? I don't even know how much I've got on board. I filled the water tank of the caravan before I left Beachport, but I have no idea the tank holds and even if I did know, I have no idea of how long that will last. And I'm certainly not going to do calculations of water volume and then weigh up how much I use to wash dishes, my body, use in cooking etc. Aaaaaaah, I thought life on the road would be simple!
Believe me, it's not! Because the car has to weigh somewhere approximating the caravan's weight, I have to make sure that I distribute my load as evenly as I can. If I don't, if I attempt to go up or down a hill, the caravan will push my car, out of control, down the hill. I carry my out-of-season clothes in a suitcase and use these as excess weight in the car. Likewise, extra water; director's chairs (I brought along two in the hope that I will occasionally have someone else to sit down with); a card table (somewhere to put the gin and tonic); extra bedding; art supplies (one day I hope to actually paint a picture!); and whatever other bits and pieces are easily transferable from car to van. So when I get to where I'm going, I have to unload the car again to make it more economical with the fuel when I'm driving around, exploring.
Another consideration is food. How much to carry? Enough so that if I come across a lovely little spot in the middle of nowhere, I can make an impromptu decision to stay for a couple of days without starving to death (which may be the only "diet" solution that I can follow!), but not so much food that it's costing me $50 a week to move it with me. A few cans of soup, a bit of cheese, some eggs, a loaf of bread and some vegetables can usually get me by.
But the one thing I have plenty of is solitude. That doesn't cost or weigh anything.
But enough moaning.
Don't think though that it's all difficulties, dilemmas and 'poor me' nights along the way. In fact, there have probably only been a couple of nights that I have felt a bit sorry for myself - these usually coincide with a particularly heavy day as far as decision-making goes, when I feel overwhelmed with the responsibility of looking after myself and making so many decisions. Where to go, how long to take, how much fuel I'll need, have I distributed the weight evenly etc.
I've been fortunate to have met quite a few interesting people along the way - Liz, Graham, Kerrie at Beachport; Doug and Jan and Salt Creek and last night, Lainey and Bill at Langhorne Creek.
Liz was a woman of a similar age to me and we met while she was out walking and I was out touring around in my car. When I was up near the lighthouse in Beachport, I'd seen her set off cross-country on her walk. I drove around to one of the local scenic spots and she was there; the next place I came to, she was there as well - by the time we got to Post Office Rock I burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of me being the overweight lady in the car and she was the slim lady on foot! I'd previously picked up a copy of the local weekly newsletter and met the editor, Graham at Bompas (where I'd 'won' a free cup of chai latté for a week) and had had a lovely chat with him about the world and its neighbours etc. One of the ads had been for tai chi and when I went along to the class, Liz was the teacher which was a lovely surprise. As I struggled with the tai chi routine, I noticed the very down-to-earth Kerrie smiling at me and so, after class when I was invited to join the group at another coffee shop (At The Jetty), Kerrie and I found ourselves deep in conversation, talking about men, relationships, travelling and nature.
Because the winds had been so extraordinarily high for several days, I had to hold up in Beachport. Graham said the barometric pressure was the lowest he'd ever seen it and the winds certainly gave my lovely little caravan a thorough pounding. I must admit to a certain degree of anxiety as for three days and nights, the van quivered and shook under the barrage of wind and driving rain. Poor Marlo was so terrified she slept on top of my head, trembling all night, and even now she still refuses to come into the van. When I 'invite' her in at night, she just stands at the door and gives a look that says, "What? In there? You must be kidding!"
When it was time to bid Beachport adieu, I made a few quick calls around the town - to Bompas to leave the book, "Deer Hunting With Jesus" for Graham, who they told me was working at the museum, so I was able to deliver it personally. Then to the deli where I'd got to know another lovely lady (at the town's Virgo birthday party several days before); then to the post office (where my mail had been forwarded to) and they said they would take care of any mail which came after I'd left. Another quick call to the local library/visitor centre/shire office where I'd spent several hours on the internet during the week and borrowed some DVDs, which included Buffalo Girls with Angelica Huston and Irma La Duce with Jack Lemmon and Shirley Maclaine).
I was surprised at the level of emotion I felt at leaving Beachport. I would have been quite happy to stay, but it was time to continue my journey. More towns and more 'adventures' await.
Earlier in the morning, when I was packing up the van, I'd caught part of a radio news report about escaped convicts and Salt Creek. Since that was where I was headed (along The Corrong), I asked around to confirm if what I'd heard was right. But no one else had heard about it. I called in to Robe and got some petrol and still no one else had heard about any escapees and again in Kingston, so I was beginning to think that I'd made a mistake. When I finally arrived in Salt Creek, I called in to the local roadhouse to check before I made camp in the bush. The young woman there told me that yes, there had been a couple of blokes from a local prison farm (about 35 kms away) who'd made a break for it and had been picked up by a truck driver and taken to Adelaide, where they'd been caught by the police. Apparently these men only had two more weeks of their sentences left and had been privileged to be included on a work gang who were allowed out into the community. They had been working behind the roadhouse on some vegetation clearing and had gotten to know the woman's partner a little bit (as evidenced by the fact that they used parts of 'her' life to back up their story to the truck driver that their car had become bogged on the beach and they'd left their girlfriends behind at the roadhouse with her while they returned to Adelaide to get another vehicle).
The Corrong is an incredibly diverse bird habitat from what I could see. Black swans, bush turkeys, herons, ducks, galahs, wrens. And lots of rickety old tin shacks built along the shoreline. The land is pretty flat and surrounded by a kind of saltbush (at least it looked like a saltbush), but teeming with wildlife - emus, kangaroos, wombats etc. The Salt Creek Roadhouse has just been taken over by a young couple, so I decided to stay the night ($10) and met up with another couple (Grey Nomads the roadhouse owner called us) - Jan and Doug - and we spent a delightful night together having dinner and sitting around a campfire chatting about social justice issues and life in general.
I've now made my way to a wine growing area of Langhorne Creek, near the absolutely little gorgeous town of Strathalbyn. This place has such a lot to offer - interesting South Australian architecture - sandstone and rock buildings and a lovely old-fashioned feel to it. The town is divided into two sections - the High Street area and the Dawson Creek 'downtown' area with a beautiful little stream flowing through.
My normally reliable car has developed a mystery problem with the headlights - they won't switch off! A fellow traveller had a bit of a look and took out the headlight fuse, which was the only way I could stop the battery being flattened overnight. I'm now at the RAA (South Australia's Royal Auto Club) and they've eliminated all the simple (cheap) possibilities and are now exploring the more complicated (expensive) computer options. I'm bracing myself for a huge mechanical bill, in which case I think I'll just stick with the "take the fuse out when I'm not using the lights" option.
But it's all just part of the wonderful adventure that a road trip brings with it. One never knows what tomorrow will bring.
The mechanic has just come in to tell me they've located the problem. Apparently someone had placed my battery on top of the web or mesh or something like that, which contains all the wiring for my electricals and the constant rubbing of the battery had worn through the headlight cabling. All fixed and I'm only out $200.
When I got back to the campsite, a lovely couple had arrived in a huge bus, towing a little four wheel drive behind them. Lainey and Bill are from near Sydney and designed and built the bus themselves. It's pure luxury and modern design - all streamlined with pumps and motors for everything. Oooooh, the loooooxury of having your own shower and toilet on board!
Photos above:
1. Strathalbyn is a lovely town with such incredibly interesting architecture - this lovely little weir is right in the centre of town, not far from the post office.
2. One of the most striking buildings in Strathalbyn is this very impressive-looking gothic church.
3. I don't know whether it's still used as a post office, but I thought this was so cute - the Langhorne Creek general store has this very friendly post box system out on its front verandah. Aaaah for the days when people could be trusted to have community mail on display like this.
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October 2009 
Fearless
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