Embarking on their epic journey the Wandering West Australians, Pauline & Ian and the Roaming Romaiors, Margie & Pete left Perth via Kalgoorlie, picked up their caravans and waited to leave. It had been raining on the Nullabor Plain so the road allowing you to commence crossing the expanse of our rather large country was closed due to flooding, a rare event but they were not deterred. They headed off anyway, the trip was planned and the Wandering West Australian husband was eager to go, on time and on schedule.
Across the flooding plains, they came swearing to leave the rain behind them, glamping here and there, always in search of a fresh oyster and a great view, finally making their way to Mudgee in NSW. Now the Roaming Romaiors had not toured in a caravan before so to have come this far was not a bad effort especially as it had continued along the way to rain. It was on a clear night in Mudgee, something they had been waiting for when Margie & Pete woke to the sound of pounding rain on the van roof. Tossing and turning it had continued for 2 hours. It wasn’t supposed to rain, they couldn’t sleep because it was so loud. Finally, Margie checked Google Weather, because, of course, Google is never wrong and she was sure that there was no rain predicted in Mudgee. There wasn’t. Why then did it seem to be raining so heavily and so hard when Google says it’s a precipitation free night? Pete ventures outside, 2 hours into the rain storm to find that not only was it a clear night it was solely his van that was being pounded by the intense storm. He looks around, and there is a pool of water ankle deep, it’s still pouring but only on his van, this it seems was a lightbulb moment. He wanders to the back of the van to find that the hose has disconnected and is showering them with their major downpour.
Two hours of waiting for the rain to stop, 15 minutes of Margie Googling the weather to find that a hose connection had broken loose sent the Wandering West Australians in the van next door into fits of laughter upon hearing their wet and sleepless tale only to be silenced by the Roaming Romaiors who stated that it was not their fault as Wandering Westie, Ian was the one that had given them the initial hose connection so of course he must take the blame for the 150 litres of water that flooded the park, kept them awake and sent them into a Google frenzy.
They head towards Greens Acre, our home to park and relax for a few days of sun & swimming. Finally, we are all packed, the sun is diminishing and the rain is sprinkling but we head off for the adventure of a lifetime. The first stop Lemon Tree Passage, NSW. As we head to our destination the heavens begin to open again. We pull up, The Husband and I find we are a bit rusty with our set-up as it’s been a while. The Husband is already unhappy with my inability to direct him the four streets across the caravan park as map reading has never been my forte and for some reason, caravan maps send me into a state of panic which then descends into a full-blown argument and we haven’t even left the car yet. We finally aligned the van, I put the side out and turned on the water pump and the hot water service…. it’s not working. No hot water. I angle the tap to the hot water setting, but no, nothing. Stone cold. I envision having to commune with the common people in a shared shower situation, 2 caravan park streets away…not happy Jan. The Husband lifts the bed where all manor of electrical equipment, 2 bottles of vodka, a bottle of gin and an emergency stash of white wine for occasions such as this are stored. I get out the manual, spurred on by the thought of freezing my bits off during my early morning shower.
I YouTube and give The Husband instructions but then realise I’m instructing him on how to turn on the underfloor heating, which in my books is a bonus as we never really knew how it worked, The Husband is not amused. Confounded we continue to look at switches and wiring and vigorously consult the Jayco manual to no avail. We simply can’t figure it out. We decide it’s time to bring in the water king himself, the big guns because even though he has sat in his van during a pretend rainstorm googling the weather, Pete can fix anything. He diligently looks at the switch, it’s on, he goes to the tap and turns it in the opposite direction from how I had placed the tap in the first place and low and behold we have hot water. For the love of god, you can imagine The Husband’s reaction. Over 1 hour of trying to fix the hot water system to find I had turned the tap the wrong way. Being blond on this day did not serve me well and I will not live it down….ever.
Two days of sun and wine we head to our next destination. Old Bar brought with it looming reports of torrential rain. We arrive at our new park amidst the downpour, once again I fail the caravan park map reading. I’ve relayed to The Husband that we are supposed to be on a cement slab, no cement slab, just a soggy, muddy spot of grass, he’s not happy. It was absolutely pouring, we set up, we are by this time drenched, we watch the Wandering West Australians set up. They have also been allotted a grassy knoll. Ian puts his awning out, sets up his chairs, places the sides up and settles in. As we look around we note that other than our 3 vans and one other the park is basically empty, the cement slabs sit in front of us one street across. Finally Ian in a fit of frustration as he is sitting ankle-deep in water in the annex decides that since there is no one using most of the park especially not the cement slabs he will move the van. One problem, he forgot to tell Pauline, he also forgot that she was inside the van. Like a slow motion picture, he jumps into the 4-wheel drive and starts her up just as Pauline is at the sink, she is thrust back screaming whilst my ever helpful Husband screams at me to come outside and watch as the unfolding scene is hilarious with Ian nearly bogging then driving over gutters bouncing Pauline back and forth like a rag doll. All you can hear is a slew of abuse coming from their caravan with Pauline being thrown onto the lounge where she bounces around from one side of the chair to the other. The Husband is in hysterics, the Wandering West Australian Husband is in deep shit and Pauline is angrier than we’ve ever seen her before.
The more we mention it, the more he gets into trouble. The first few days and weeks have been one wet adventure for everyone but the thought of The Wandering West Australian Wife being flung around inside the caravan beats a fake thunderstorm and a blond trying to turn a tap on.
Caravanning in Heels 