Day 2: Moruya

In my family history there is an honourable talent for breaking droughts, usually sometime in January on family holidays. This resulted in us having no skill in fishing, but being great at Scrabble and Monopoly . We broke from this drought-breaking tradition spectacularly once when I was five when we were on the first of many memorable holidays to Sussex Inlet. We got bogged the middle of a forest with a bushfire roaring towards us. Later fun holiday moments included the day Dad sat on the anchor ; at the time he was trying frantically to start the inboard motor as we drifted towards the mouth of the inlet, with the sandbar just ahead and the surf on the other side.


But most of the stories involved being rained in or rained out. So it is a lovely thing to continue these time-honoured traditions. Las t night there was a torrential downpour and wild winds; today it has been drizzly, a poor effort really, and nature missed a great opportunity, since we were being given the run-down on our new camper and then actually putting it up and padding back and forth packing our things into it. We could have got a lot wetter really, but it was something.

But now it’s dark and calm and we are sitting in the trailer having cooked dinner and washed up. Actually we are also on the phone to Warwick who is ringing from Fitzroy Crossing warning us about the roads along our intended route; cut, swamped, washed out, impassable. People being helicoptered out from Aboriginal settlements as their houses are washed from their foundations. Why am I not surprised that in the driest continent on earth we are faced with massive rain and flooded rivers across the Northern Territory at the very moment we set out?

So it’s out with the maps. Where to go? One thing is certain - we will end up in Broome, but it might be via the Nullarbor and Kalgoorlie instead of the Gibb River Road. Plans to go along the Savannah Way went out the window a long time ago, but the route is marching steadily southwards. Lucky it’s a big country.

We did however have a lovely day today. All the people at Ultimate have names ending in tt, I don't think they can get a job there unless they are called Brett or Scott. Our Brett spent all morning with us teaching us the finer points of our new toy, after which, just as we were beginning to glaze over, they brought out a large platter of sandwiches and a box of wedges. Then we had playtime putting it up and down under the watchful eye of Brett, had a tour of the factory, took it out for a spin to check the brakes and the electrics, were presented with a bottle wine, had the official photo taken and were sent on our way.

It’s a cute little family company, with Dad upstairs, looking down benignly on the scene below (as well he might as three camper trailers roll out the door each week, ca-ching), daughter Emily behind the reception desk and Mum in all the brochures. Something nice about it, shaking the hand of the owner and exchanging small talk, and nice to know we have played our small part in helping him to buy his new Land Rover HSE at around $250,000. There’s money in those Gray Nomads, even if they do all look so daggy.

But we are ridiculously excited to be in our new little home, tucked up for the night and contemplating heading off tomorrow for the outback. Watch this space, sometime soon we’ll know where we are heading.