There’s such a lot of world to see

Back in Sydney, Andy and I had arranged to meet up in Brisbane once I’d left Melbourne, and had decided to explore the east coast of Queensland. Initially, we were planning to do this by bus, until we struck on the idea of hiring a campervan. It seemed such an indeal way to do this – we’d have more independence, we’d have all our transport and accommodation in one package – everyone’s a winner! I did some research and found a company called Wicked Campers that were by far the cheapest option. not only that, but the coolest. Each one of their vans is individually spray-painted with quirky pictures and slogans – you can really see them coming. I pitched the idea to Andy, who was instantly on board. In his words, “they’re unique and strange-looking, like us”. Sold.

So Andy collected me from the airport (believe me, I needed a minder that day with the purse-loss fiasco and the alcohol-blood ratio), treated me to a hefty lunch, no doubt trying to sober me up, and we mosied on down through Brisbane to the Wicked Campers depot. WE signed up with no problems, and were given our van. Genius. The David Bowie van. It had “BOWIE” sprayed in huge letters down each side, his face on each side, and Bowie lyrics on the back: My burning desire started on Sunday, give me your heart and I’ll love you till Tuesday. Mars Bar for the first person to name the song. Unsurprisingly, this drew a lot of attention on the roads of Queensland; best of all was when we saw other Wicked Campers. It was like being in a little club.

Andy was on first shift driving (to let me loose behind the wheel would have been both illegal and insane after my night out), so I was on navigating duty. I assured him this was my speciality, having got my map-readers badge in Guides, and promptly managed to get us lost within the first 15 minutes. Andy was very sweet though, and reassured me he WANTED to see the airport again from a different angle.

Our destination that day was Noosa, a couple of hundred kilometres north of Brisbane. It sounded lovely – a real mix of posh and boho, just like us! On the way, we saw signs for Steve Irwin’s zoo, and actually turned off the road to go up there, until I noticed it was 4pm and it closed at 4.30pm, so not really worth it. We resolved to try and go on the way back down to Brisbane, which as you’ll realise, turned out to be quite a momentous decision.

We were both fairly apprehensive about driving, as neither of us had been behind a wheel since we’d been away (me, six months, Andy eight), but it turns out, it’s just like riding a bike. Well, not EXACTLY, in that you don’t have to pedal, but metaphorically. You know what I mean. Without further incident, we arrived in Noosa, headed straight for the supermarket (all camp sites in Australia have barbeques, in fact loads of places do – down at the beach, in parks. It’s wonderful), and stocked up on chops and kebabs. I also insisted that, for breakfast, we pick up a pack of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. Y’see, when we were growing up, Mum was (thankfully) really strict with what we were allowed to eat. Michael and I both thank her now, as we are fortunate enough to have good teeth (no fillings at the age of 30, just to blow my own trumpet). We had certain treats, though, one of them being whenever we went to our caravan, we were allowed Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. So to me, it’s the cereal associated with camping. Hence it going in our trolley now.

We left the supermarket, marvelling at how quickly it goes dark here in the southern hemisphere – when we’d gone in it was daylight, and when we came out it was completely dark – and managed to get to the campsite, and fortunately, baggsied the last spot. We set up, barbequed up a storm, and settled in for the night, both of us commenting that it REALLY felt like we were on holiday. I know what you’re thinking – the last six months have been one long holiday, which is true, but this felt like the holidays I’d known as a child (as had Andy, as well, going camping on the Gower peninsula), and it felt wonderfully nostalgic.

We settled into the camping life as if to the manor born – again, I guess we’d had good training when we were younger. It was very amusing to be in the midst of a very middle-class, middle-aged culture and to roll up in a David Bowie van, and you should have seen some of the looks we got. It’s a lovely community, though, and we were soon “Good Morning”ing away with the best of them. We lived in the vain hope that some would take pity on us and feed us, but, alas, this never happened. Mum and Aunty Rosemary would have been proud of me, though, the way I was gossiping with the neighbours and getting their life stories out of them. The first two were Brits who’d been in Australia for nearly 30 years, they thought what we were doing was marvellous. They had me spitting my toast out with supressed laughter, though, when they found out Andy was Welsh. The wife spoke a couple of words of Welsh to him, Bore Da or something like that, when the husband turned to us and exclaimed, in all seriousness, “It’s like another language, isn’t it?”. Quite.

We went for a wander round Noosa, which was charming and pretty and had a delightful beach, before heading off in our van to Hervey Bay. And so we set the pattern. Day-in, day-out, we’d find lovely places up the coast, settle, and then head off. Happiness is…

By the way, for my own amusement more than anything, I’m going to be getting as many Bowie song titles into my blogs as possible. An as-yet undetermined prize to the person who spots the most.

As I mentioned earlier, it was Alice and Hugh’s talk of Neighbours that was the clincher in me deciding to come to Melbourne. Not only the Neighbours tour, but the Neighbours Night. This is a weekly event, held at the Elephant and Wheelbarrow pub in St Kilda, ostensibly a pub quiz, but with the chance to meet three Neighbours stars. Sign me up.

I’d got in the mood earlier in the day, by celebrating with my first haircut in six months (got to look my best for those stars), and then preparing to leave EARLY the next day. My flight was at 8am from Avalon Airport, which is an hour out of town; this basically meant getting a bus at 6am to get to the airport at 7am. With only one or two buses an hour, I could not miss that bus. And, when Alice and Hugh told me that last time they’d got in at about 4am, I knew I would be up against a challenge. I packed up completely, so I only had to brush my teeth and run out the door (and, frankly, the teeth wouldn’t be a priority).

To get myself even more in the mood, I visited the Melbourne Museum. This is a great place, one I’d definitely recommend visiting. They have fabulous Aboriginal and Natural History exhibitions, but the thing I was really wanting to see was in the Australiana section. It was …. drum roll….. the original set of the Robinson’s kitchen. Now, I know to some of you younger readers this might not mean a lot (Hugh, earlier, had asked me, “Who’s Charlene?”), but to me, it was mecca. I got even more excited when I opened the fridge door and spotted Charlene and Scott’s wedding cake. I had a slice but it just tasted cardboardy, to be honest.

Back at the apartment for a quick change and slap on of make up, and soon we were heading out. We met Alice and Hugh’s friend at the station, and got the tram out to St Kilda. It was easy enough to spot the other people heading out for it – basically, anyone British. It’s amazing how popular it is with British people, for reasons I’m not exactly sure of.

We got there, paid our extortionate $40 entrance fee (although we did get a free drink), met my friend Karen who I’d met on the Neighbours tour and signed up for this evening, and settled down to a high state of anticipation. Or I did, anyway, the others were just looking forward to it; I was bouncing off the ceilings. The organisers are clever, in that they keep you on the edge for two hours before anything happens, so obviously everyone keeps running to the bar. It was ace.

After the wait, the MC got up and started getting us all really hyped up. The show was about to start. The first star we would meet was Ned. I’d never even heard of Ned, but the fact that he was on Neighbours was good enough for me. The guy was delightful, posing for loads of photos with us and signing autographs, really taking the time to chat to us.

Maybe it’s because he’s new, as the other two weren’t as approachable. The second star was Steph Scully. Very pretty, about my height, very smiley, but didn’t take as much time with us as Ned. The last star was the evil Paul Robinson, who was very small in real life, like a Polly Pocket, and who really seemed to think he was someone special. I think I was quite sarcastic to his face, telling him I loved his work, because he wouldn’t sign an autograph for me. He had his photo taken with me but his face is more of a grimace than a smile. Still, where would he be without us, eh? Eh?

We got to ask the stars questions. Unfortunately, neither mine (To Paul: Do you still have the leather jacket you wore in the “Gonna Make You Feel Good” video?), nor Hugh’s (To Paul: Who’s Charlene?) was read out. There was an absolute classic, though. One of Paul’s big-time stalker-type fans was there, and he greeted her by name. She was wearing a denim jacket with his face on the back and “Stefan Dennis!” written in jaunty writing. Imagine our mirth when someone asked, To Paul: Does it scare you when you see people wearing clothing with your face on it?

The quiz is now a vague memory, but our team (titled Paul Robinson’s Prosthetic Leg) came fifth. I do remember Alice telling me to be quiet as I was giving the answers away to the team behind us (who ended up coming first – booooooo!). And I cheated and sent a text to Andy for one of the answers – for some reason I thought he would know the breed of dog currently on Neighbours. He didn’t. Which I’m sort of relieved about.

The night progressed on to prizes. I – to my shame – thought it would be a good idea to enter an air guitar competition. Even more to my shame, I only came second. The mortification. The neck pain the next day. Not good. I also ended up with a Harold Bishop t-shirt, somehow. I wear it with pride.

Our happiness was complete when we were treated to an hour’s set by Dr Karl’s band. It was so much fun, they did some good stuff and we enjoyed being the screaming fans down at the front of the stage. Like Beatlemania all over again!

Sadly though, as all nights do, it had to come to an end. And this is where it all went a bit pear-shaped for me, as I left my purse in a taxi. With my debit card, my credit card, and the money to get to the airport the next day. I realised as I got back to the apartment but, after getting a bit upset, realised there was nothing I could do that night. So, fully dressed (including my Harold Bishop t-shirt), I crashed out at about 3am.

When the alarm went at 5.30 – well, let’s just say I wasn’t sober yet, and was grateful that I’d packed and was already dressed. The teeth DID get brushed, though, and I somehow managed to get a free ride to the airport (thanks loads and loads to Hugh for helping me out with the card situation). Once there I started to call home to my banks to cancel my cards, which was a strange experience – to be doing something so serious with alcohol still in my body, AND wearing a Harold Bishop t-shirt. All done, I boarded the plane and sat next to an odd man who kept talking about Combine Harvesters to me. “Go on, in UK pounds, guess how much fuel they use a day?”. He actually poked me as well and said, “You’re not allowed to go to sleep!”. I tells ya, he’s lucky he didn’t get a slap.

Somehow, miraculously, I landed safe inBrisbane exactly when I was meant to. Andy was there to meet me, and I couldn’t think of a more welcome sight. We were about to head off on a great adventure.

The next day, though cold again, was dry and sunny, so Alice and I were persuaded to go fishing by Hugh, his brother, and their friend (also called Hugh). Was this against my better judgement? My first experience of fishing ... [Continue reading this entry]

Those of you who were reading this blog back when I was in China, in May: first of all, God help you; second of all, thank you; third of all - remember Alice and Hugh from the Yangtze River Cruise? ... [Continue reading this entry]

When I booked this trip, I always knew that I would be somewhere in Sydney on my 30th birthday. Where exactly was yet to be decided, but I knew I would be Down Under. As soon as I got to ... [Continue reading this entry]

One of the things that Mike in Perth had recommended I go and see when I was in Sydney was the Blue Mountain Range. Although they start 65km inland from Sydney, they are effectively part of the extended suburbs, and ... [Continue reading this entry]

Apart fro the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge, is there anything more associated with Sydney than Bondi beach? I think you’ll find there’s not! This, then, became our destination the next day. We must have done something good, because ... [Continue reading this entry]

One of the plans that Andy and I had formulated the night before was to go and see Darling Harbour in the morning, followed by Manly in the afternoon. Of course, this meant waking up in the morning, not an ... [Continue reading this entry]

I woke up bright, early, and refreshed on the morning of my first full day in Sydney. I managed to be one of the first up in the dorm (how odd it is to be back in dorm land after ... [Continue reading this entry]

OK, OK, I’m sorry! I know that recently I’ve been about as useful as a chocolate frog in a heatwave on the blogging front in the last couple of weeks. Rest assured though, this was purely because I’ve been having ... [Continue reading this entry]