Our Aussie Adventures

It was off to an early start for me this morning. Leaving Bec at home in the van with the dogs, I drove the hour or so across to the Williamtown RAAF Base and Newcastle Airport. No, I wasn’t going to the airport because I had had enough and was preparing to fly home. Rather I was visiting ‘Fighter World’, a museum dedicated to the display of all things relating to fighter aircraft, particularly those that have served with the Australian forces.

Fighter World hanger.

The main hanger.

Spread across 2 hangers, the main space had a dozen or so jet aircraft, ranging from a De Havilland Vampire to a couple of Mirages. Set among the aircraft were a number of other interesting displays. I was particularly taken with the 6 barrel gatling gun (or cannon to be correct) which is normally found in an F-18 Hornet fighter. Press the button on the display board, and the barrels start to rotate at a fearsome speed, whilst the sound effects make it easy to imagine the hot 20mm chunks of lead spewing out at a rate of 6000 rounds a minute. Awsome firepower.

Another highlight was the 2 cockpits, which are set up to allow visitors to sit in them, getting a first hand look at what it’s like to be in the hot seat. The first was the cockpit of an Aeromacchi jet trainer, whilst the 2^nd was a Mirage cockpit. I nearly taught a few kids the principle of an ejection seat, when they wouldn’t get out of my way and let me have a play. How very dare they make me wait my turn. Having sat in both, I am amazed at how tight a fit they are. My knees were especially thankful that we were staying firmly put on the ground, as I could only imagine the trauma that they would experience during a turbulent flight. All hard surfaces and acute angles, one would have to be very careful during flight not to sustain an injury. And that’s even without someone else trying to shoot you out of the sky!

The second hanger held a display of World War II era fighters, although they were mostly replicas. The contrasts were obvious between the jets and the props, but there was a certain romanticism about the old war birds. I could almost see Douglas Bader hobbling down from the Spitfire with a cheery “How are you old chap. Be a good fellow then and mark me down for another two now would you? And put a brew on while you’re at it.”

Unfortunately I had timed my visit poorly, as if I had been able to hold off a few weeks, I would have been able to view the museums latest acquisition, an F-111. This new display will shortly take pride of place in the museum, for all to admire up close and personal. Hmm, I wonder when we’ll be back up this way.

Back at the van, I found that Bec had also been busy. She had got all of the washing done, in several very small loads, considering the washing machine we have in the van is rated to only 3Kg. We’re used to an almost industrial 10Kg unit at home, so we have to really plan our washing days with a fair bit of care. In between hanging out the laundry on our miniature clothes line, which is perfectly matched in size to our washing machine, Bec had been running around cleaning and washing everything she could find. I came back to a spotlessly clean and tidy home, only to cook up a storm for lunch, leaving a mess behind me as I twirled through the van like a whirlwind. Oh, now I get why she was pissed at me. Oops, sorry.

After a quick lunch, we bundled the dogs into the car and headed out for an afternoon in the hills of the Hunter Valley wine region. Being that we are staying not more than 10 minutes or so away from some of the areas finest wineries, we thought it would be iniquitous of us not to visit at least a couple.

Our first stop had not only wines to taste, but also a range of olive oils and balsamic vinegars. Whilst the wines didn’t take our fancy, the caramelized balsamic was divine. I just wish we’d though to ask the price before getting the girl to wrap it up. $22.00 for a bottle of salad dressing. For $22.00 I want the whole bloody salad, preferably served with a side of steak!

Now that’s what I call a bottle of wine.

The next stop was at the Hunter Valley Village, a quaint little group of stores that brought to mind an olde English village. Selling all manner of hand made goodies, crafts and knick-knacks, we wandered around taking it all in. Running a little short on time, we decided not to have a look around the gardens, which are set on 25 acres and feature 8Km of walking paths through more than 6000 trees, 600000 shrubs and 1 million ground covers. Certainly a garden not for the feint hearted.

From the village, we made our way to the Hunter Distillery, which produces a range of organic Vodkas and vodka based schnapps and liquors. We found the ginger vodka to our liking enough so that we walked out with a small bottle to enjoy at our leisure.

The Hunter Valley Cheese Factory was the next stop, where we treated our taste buds to an array of locally produced cheeses. Despite my preference for a harder cheese, I found that the washed rind semi-soft cheese was my favorite. Bec on the other hand likes the soft cheeses, and yet also found herself leaning towards the washed rind. So we added a half a round of that to out pantry, along with a small tub of pate for Bec.

By this stage I was wondering if maybe the Australian currency was undervalued in this region. Yes, it’s a tourist area, and yes the produce is fresh, organic and probably gone through plenty of other new age processes, but it’s all a little too rich for my tastes.

This didn’t prevent us from making one final stop at another cellar door. Another cellar door, another bottle of wine, or in this case two. I bought a bottle of deliciously fruity Pinot Grigio to drink with dinner, and Bec got a bottle of terribly sweet, but utterly delectable Botrytis Semillon.

It was time to head back to the van by this stage, to take the dogs for another walk, prepare dinner and get ready to settle in for the evening. We had a few things that needed doing, in preparation for tomorrows travels. We are on the road again, heading further north, towards Tamworth.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

What a difference a day makes. We awoke this morning to a gloriously sunny day, with not a cloud in the sky. What a perfect day to go exploring the surrounding area.

Initially, we were going to take in a local market, but found that if we arrived at the Old Maitland Gaol for 11:00AM, we could take part in a special tour presented by a former in mate. Given that we can go to markets any time, we got our skates on and headed off in search of the jail, with barely the time to get there for the allocated time. Or so we thought.

Outside the gaol.

Maitland is about a 40 minute drive from Cessnock, but leaving as we did at about 10:00AM and making good time along the way, we arrived with time up our sleeves. It was $17.00 each for a self guided, audio tour of the gaol, or for $20.00 you could join the once a week ex-inmate experience, which is what we signed up for.

Prepare to be enthralled.

At just after 11:00AM we, along with about 2 dozen others were introduced to our guide for the morning. With both weather beaten arms sporting an array of prison tatts, our guide had the gruff look of a guy who’d had a hard life. Aged about 60, and not looking any younger, he had a quite, yet commanding presence despite his smallish stature. He talked almost fondly of his three stints within the sandstone walls of Old Maitland Gaol in a raspy voice that betrayed a lifetime of nicotine addiction, yet his eyes were cold and hard, taking everything in with a practiced ease.

As we toured the grounds and buildings of the complex, he pointed out specific cells that had once held notorious criminals such as Ivan Milat, Darcy Dugan and others. It wasn’t the stories about the actual gaol that enthralled so much, as the relish with which he described numerous ways of bringing harm to others in ways that most would not even believe possible. He laughed out loud as he demonstrated how almost anything could be, and most likely would be, used as a weapon. Even a cigarette or piece of toilet paper. As he put it, these days prison is like a salubrious hotel, where sex and drugs are easy to come by, with the tax payers picking up he tab. He delighted in mocking the guests and was proud to proclaim that the thought of returning to prison held no particular fear for him. He began the tour by telling us that he was innocent, not because he hadn’t committed the crime, but because he had done his time. He later stated that the concept that goal provides rehabilitation in laughable.

In any case, as the 1 ½ hour tour neared the 2 hour mark, we all hung on his every word, not sure whether to be enthralled, petrified or just a little bit of both. I have done many a tour of condemned gaols, but I have to say that, literally, getting the inside story, made this by far the best I’ve experienced. Sure, any layperson could give you an historical run down of the buildings and maybe a brief glimpse of what went on behind the steel gates during occupation, but to hear from a person who has lived it elevates it to an entirely new level.

From the gaol, we made the 10 minute drive to the nearby village of Morpeth. A quaint little town which appears to survive on the tourism trade, people flocking from far and wide to take in the charming produce and craft stores, and enchanting cafes and watering holes.

Bec and Big Ted in Morpeth.

We spent an enjoyable hour or so, wandering the main street, taking in a few of the craft stores, and checking out the annual Morpeth Fiery Food Festival, which we were lucky enough to find in full swing.I may have should have stopped tasting at the mild chilli jams and relishes, but swooped in regardless on one rated 15/10 for hotness. It had hardly passed my lips, when the inside of my mouth began to sweat profusely, and any though I had of tasting anything for the foreseeable future went out the window. Hot was not the word, and to make matters worse, I can’t say I even liked the flavor.

Lunch was to have been a couple of freshly baked sour dough ciabatta rolls from the locally renown Arnotts Bakery, but we were extremely disappointed to find the cashier standing forlornly in front of an utterly empty bread rack. Not even a crumb left, I was crestfallen, having been salivating over the thought of fresh sour dough since reading about it yesterday.

With none of the many other eateries in town meeting our strict criteria of wholesome, filling and cheap, we chose to head back towards home, via Maitland itself. We had only touched on the outskirts earlier, so figured a quick look around was in order. And quick it was, as it turned out. Maitland is neither a large town, nor a tourist town and thus being a Sunday appeared as a ghost town. There wasn’t a single business open in the main street, and hardly another car or person to be seen, so lunch was not to be had here either.

Nearing 3:00PM by this stage, and faced with a 35 minute drive back to Cessnock, we were faced with the realisation that lunch would be either takeaway back in Cessnock or nothing at all. So takeaway it was.

Back at the van, Bec busied herself with a spot of housework, tiding up the rapidly expanding mess inside. It is beyond comprehension how much of a mess you can make in such a short space of time, but with the limited space we have to avail ourselves of, it is difficult to find a proper place for everything. We will work it out, as we go along I am sure.

As for me, I scaled to the heady heights of the van roof, to willfully squirt some silicone sealant about, hopefully managing to satisfactorily seal the offending hole and preventing any further ingress of aqua. Only more rain will judge my success. It’s all fingers and toes crossed until then.

A pre-dinner walk was taken with the dogs then, which brought Bethany out of her sullenness somewhat, as we went tearing around a nearby park at full speed. The wind in her hair, ears flapping about wildly, she was in her element. Alvin enjoyed himself, but I got the feeling that he could take it or leave it, being the prima donna inside dog that he is.

The rest of the evening was spent relaxing and preparing for tomorrows adventures.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

Wow, I so badly wanted to bring you tales of fun and excitement today, to prevent the blog from going stale. Tales of cruising through the picturesque Ku-Ring-Gai Chase National Park, then up the Central Coast towards our camp spot for the next few days in Cessnock. Tales of wonderment, at a range of sights and tourist attractions that we were sure to visit along the way. It wasn’t to be however. I was actually beginning to envy all those we left at home, who would have been waking up to a beautiful warm, sunny morning back in Melbourne, their weekend just about to begin. For us however, there is no such thing as a weekend, each day blurring incorrigibly into the next. And as for heading north to get away from the winter, we endured torrential rain all night and for what would turn out to be, all day. To say that it was cold, wet and miserable would be an understatement.

Where would you rather be? Melbourne…

…or Sydney? I know where I’d rather be.

We started out alright, getting the interior of the van all tidied up and ready for travel. Then I moved onto the exterior, leaving Bec to relax inside. Her neck is still a little tender, I didn’t want her getting it too cold. Clad in a full set of wet weathers, I spent an hour or so in temperatures that felt to be sub-freezing, grappling with icy cold tap fittings, hoses, and tow fittings, finally getting the van hitched back up to ‘The Beast’. I looked like a drowned rat by the time we were ready to leave, losing the 15 minutes we’d made up the other day (Updated Melbourne ETA: 7:20PM, 11/10/13)

As we headed north out of Sydney, the roads were rapidly taking on the appearance of rivers and the average speed on the 110Km/h motorway was down to between 75 and 80Km/h. The rain was a constant feature of the drive, so heavy at times our visibility could almost have been measured in centimeters. There was one point, as we crested one of the frequent peaks, we were literally driving through billowing black rain clouds.

Our time on the road today was to be only an hour and a half, two hours at the most, but with the extra concentration that was required for the drive, by the time we eventually rolled into Cessnock, I felt like I’d been driving for hours. My steely scowl of concentration was matched by the one-dimensional steely grey of the sky, with only the constant swish swash of the windscreen wipers scouring across the window breaking my stare.

Driving through Cessnock towards the caravan park, we found it to be quite a sizeable town, with every conceivable service, including a decent shopping precinct. Here we were, expecting a sleepy little country hollow, where I had even been concerned about the availability of diesel, only to be met with a sprawling metropolis. Well, maybe not quite a metropolis, but more than just the dot on the map that we had expected.

We had our choice of sites at the caravan park, all of them more resembling quagmires than lush turfed oasis’s. Considering the recent climatic events, it wasn’t something that we could protest about. Having chosen our patch of dirt, again down towards the back of the park, away from the road noise and crowds of permanent looking vans towards the front, we went through the humiliation of looking like amateurs getting the van lined up. In our defense, even though the site was fairly open, it was a tough, tight reverse turn to the passenger side, in an extremely snug area. With ‘The Beast’ still attached, there were barely a couple of feet of spare space at either end, so I think we did rather admirably, even if our radio chatter would have been an enjoyable source of entertainment to anyone listening in.

With the van unhitched, and the rain still teeming down, I sent Bec inside to make it cozy, while I toiled away outside. I was devastated when she came back out to tell me that it seemed to have been raining inside the van as well as out, turning my pillow into a sodden sponge. On closer inspection, it appears as though we have sprung a leak. It doesn’t seem to be too bad, but would have been exacerbated by the force of the rain whilst driving. I am hoping that I can fix it up, but am going to have to wait until such time as the rain stops. In the mean time I may well be taking a snorkel to bed! Not the sort of experience we relished.

Despite being only a bit after 2:00, we were feeling as blue as the weather. We were soaked through, wet in places that we didn’t even know existed and it was an absolute nightmare even just taking the dogs out for a bathroom break. We were done for the day. There was to be no playing tourist today after all. Here we are staying pretty much right in the middle of the highly regarded Hunter Valley Wine region, and I couldn’t even be bothered visiting a few wineries or cellar doors. Even with all 4 of us cozying up in bed together, it was still cold, miserable and even just a little bit wet! It is days like these that were obviously left out of the dream that we are supposedly living.

A decent feed for lunch livened us a little. At least enough for me to garner the energy to head out to the shops in search of a tube of silicone to slather on the roof as soon as conditions allow. Dinner supplies were also collected, before returning to the van to settle in for the remainder of the night.

What more can I say? We’re having a ball? Well, I guess we are, and I am sure we will look back on this day at some distant point in time and regale about how fun it really was, but as of right now, I just want the day to be over. At least tomorrow, we have a definite plan in mind, which really will include the visitation of some real live tourist attractions, so stay tuned.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

Four days since we departed and we are yet to actually partake in any endeavor that may be considered touristy. Being that Sydney wasn’t originally a planned stop for us, today is also not going to set the world alight for excitement. The only reason for which we have stopped at all, is because it is only a matter of minutes down the road from where I bought ‘The Beast’. It was thus that we decided to stop in and say “G’day” to John and Ben at Trucks ‘N’ Toys. At the same time, I figured I’d get them to give ‘The Beast’ a quick check over, as well as pick up a few filters, spare belts and other spare parts that we might need for the remainder of the trip. I’m expecting to need at least a couple of complete services before we get home, so may as well get the bits now, rather than try and source them in the middle of the outback.

So with the alarm set for 8:00AM, I left Bec and the dogs sleeping, and headed off to the nearby workshop. I had originally planned to drop ‘The Beast’ off, then ride the 10Km or so back to the van on the pushbike. It was a great plan, that unraveled when Ben offered me the use of an old work ute. I weighed up my options and decided there is plenty of time yet for me to get back in the saddle of the bike.

Once I was back at the van, we decided to spend the day relaxing and doing not too much. Having had such beautiful weather yesterday, we had been hoping to pull out the awning and kick back in the sun outside. The weather turned for the worst however, and whilst we didn’t get anymore of the rain that had teemed down overnight, it was decidedly cool and rather blustery. Instead, we started the morning with a leisurely breakfast indoors, before pulling out the planning literature, computer and itinerary. We massaged the itinerary a little to change a few things around over the next week or so. This will give us a few shorter days on the road and a little more rest time as well. That said we are still due to hit the road again tomorrow, but only for a couple of hours.

With the itinerary re-written, Bec lay for an afternoon nap. She didn’t sleep so well last night, with her neck giving her a few issues. This saw her walking around all day with her head on a permanent tilt.

A bit after 1:00PM I got the call that ‘The Beast’ had been declared to be in excellent health and was eagerly anticipating my arrival to collect it. I spent a little time while at the workshop, admiring a couple of the other trucks there that are in the midst of being converted. I wonder what Bec would say if I took one home for her? Actually, no, I won’t even ponder it, because my life wouldn’t be worth living. That said, I did pick up a few ideas for some modifications I wouldn’t mind investigating when we get home.

I am still amazed at the work that these guys put into each and every one of these trucks, and speaking to John you get a real understanding of the passion that is involved. He was as excited to see ‘The Beast’ and the modifications I’ve made to it since we last since drove out his gates, as any father would be of re-acquainting himself with a long lost first born. It was this passion that stood out initially and truly helped make my decision to buy ‘The Beast’ from these guys an easy one.

Back in my trusty steed, I picked Bec and the babies up, and we all went out for a spot of shopping. After nearly burning my arm off taking a mug (which we now know is not safe for microwave usage) out of the microwave the other day, we figured it would be an easy undertaking to purchase a mug that is safe. Naturally, it didn’t turn out to be such a simple task, but after a couple of hours running around a massive shopping center, we managed to find one that ought to be up to the job. By this stage Bec had about had enough, as her neck was giving her buggery. At least the dogs got a chance to try out their mobile dog kennel, sitting comfortably in the rear of ‘The Beast’ while we went on our shopping expedition.

We were on the way back to the van, when Bec decided that her neck was in dire need of an adjustment. So in a mad flurry of phone calls, barely an hour before I would assume most practitioners would be closing up for the weekend, we managed to find a near by osteopath that agreed to see her at such short notice. The treatment was just what the doctor ordered so to speak, with her neck just about back to normal, so that her head is now only on a semi-tilt. We will be keeping a close eye on it, in case she needs a bit more of an adjustment in the coming days.

Finally back at the van for the evening, Alvin obediently strolled from the car to the van. Buoyed by his obedience, Bethany was up next and immediately made a furious dash for freedom. A quick sprint under the van, and she was off, exploring the next two caravans. We finally caught up with the rotten little scallywag just as she was making eyes at an inviting hole in the park fence, thankfully wrangling her back into the van. She really doesn’t like this whole notion of being cooped up all day. We are going to have to make a concerted effort to get them out and about a bit more. She will go stir crazy otherwise.

As I write this, our hopefully delicious roast dinner is almost ready to be taken out of the oven, so I’m going to keep it short, bid you all good night and with any luck, participate in some touristy activities tomorrow, upon which I can report.

The blog comes together, with a little help from Bethany.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

First of all, I just want to say a big thank you to all of our readers who helpfully pointed out that the post that was emailed out yesterday seemed to have been repeated. I could make a dozen excuses as to why, such as the beer goggles making me see double or it being an easy way to double my word count, but the truth of the matter is, I don’t actually know what I did wrong. In all likely hood, if it hadn’t have been brought to my attention, I probably wouldn’t have even realized my error. It does at least prove that there is at least a few people reading my blogs right the way through, which is encouraging.

We had a pretty easy jaunt today, even making up about 15 minutes of our lost time, by knuckling down to our chores with a gusto this morning, then heading out the gates of the van park by 9:45AM. I will endeavor to continue updating our estimated time of arrival back in Melbourne as we go. As it stands at the moment, we’re due in by 7:05PM on the 11^th of October.

The plan for today was to make a quick non-stop run up the highway to Sydney. Three days in a row on the road is wearing a bit thin for all of us, and we are looking forward to a bit of a rest in Sydney. Bethany especially doesn’t do so well being continually cooped up. She likes to be able to get out for a bit of a run when the whim takes her fancy. Originally, we hadn’t planned to have more than 2 days in a row on the black top, but scheduling a check up for ‘The Beast’ in Sydney saw us a little strapped for time, to arrive before the weekend.

Mind you, I nearly turned tale for home today, considering what may well go down as the high light of my trip was achieved. We were cruising along happily, bopping along to our ever present soundtrack of country tunes, when the UHF two way radio sprung to life with a shout out of: “Have you got a copy there in the Dodge Ram?”

I hadn’t been paying any attention, and nearly didn’t hear it, but I grabbed the mic and ended up having a yarn to another couple about how much they admired ‘The Beast’. As you can imagine, being the introvert that I am, I was chuffed.

In fact, the ear to ear grin barely leaves my face when I’m piloting ‘The Beast’ down the open road. I don’t think that I will ever get tired of the fact that not only can I stick to the legal speed limit (and without realizing it, slightly over on occasion), but even up hill, I can plant the foot and enjoy a spot of previously unheard of overtaking action. It really is moments like that, with the engine thumping and the needle bouncing off the red line on the tacho, that I say hell to the fact that I ought to be towing a fuel tanker full of diesel rather than a caravan.

Ear to ear grin.

Foot down and head of the pack!

On the subject of fuel economy, I read a story just last night in a caravan magazine about a guy who was raving about the economy he was getting from his piddly little 4 cylinder Nissan Navara, pulling a van a touch smaller than ours. The fuel economy he was extolling was the same sort of numbers that we are experiencing, so I won’t be doing any more complaining for the time being.

Heading through the outskirts of Sydney to our chosen parking spot for the next couple of days, the ear to ear grin managed to transform into a bit of a grimace as we negotiated narrow multi-lane roads and fought worse than Melbourne drivers for road position in our 7 ½ tonne, 14 ½ metre long behemoth. Bring on the outback!

We checked in at the park by about 3:15PM, only to find that our $25.00 a night budget for accommodation is in danger of going the way of our fuel budget. $47.00 a night to park on a piece of grass! We could have got a motel room for only a couple of dollars more. Bec is planning to get her monies worth by running the air conditioner flat out all night.

At least being towards the back of the park, it was a little quieter, and we had a large open grass plot to reverse the van onto. What should’ve been a simple matter of swinging the steering wheel this way, then that to back the van happily into position turned into a ¾ of an hour shouting match over the very public UHF radio air waves, between Bec and I. We usually do pretty well with the reversing, but it does tend to take us a few days to get into the routine. We obviously need a touch more practice, but we eventually had the van in place and all the accouterments set up for the evening.

It was also disappointing that we are at the very back end of the park, because we are quite some distance from the amenities block. Not so bad because we can shower in the van, but ablutions of a deuce nature (which we forbid from the onboard latrine) could be an issue. Thankfully, on taking a walk around, we found a very well equipped camp kitchen, and a welcome couple of toilets, all within only a matter of meters from the van. Much happier upon that find we were.

All set up, we relaxed for a while, watching on TV the devastation being experienced in Texas after the phenomenal explosion at a fertilizer factory, where a so far indeterminate number of lives have been lost. Bad form channel 10 and McDonalds, cutting to an add advertising their new ‘Smoky Texan’ burger!

After a bit of a rest, we headed out to do the daily grocery shopping, to get ourselves set up for tonight’s dinner. The car spaces around here sure weren’t made for a vehicle the size of ‘The Beast’, with one area even ruled out on account of our weight. We managed though, almost mowing down a small sapling in the process. I’m sure it’ll grow back!

Back at the van, it was my turn to tune into my culinary side and prepare this evenings feast of grilled pork and 5 veg. Dinner done, and dishes away, it was time to relax for the night.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.