...November

          Okay, so I lied, it has been a while since my last post, but I have good reason for it... we're still in Brisbane. After the Caboolture debacle I really needed to find some work, and after a little while of assessing our options I had a brilliant idea- where can you make great money for nearly no effort? Drug trials.
           Before you get all sanctimonious and tell me tell me that this is an awful idea let me elaborate. When I was a bum, I meant student, in 2009 or so I was in need of some extra money and a friend suggested these experimental drug trials. I remember immediately thinking of Barney growing new ears out of his stomach in a Simpson's sketch, so that mixed with my debilitating fear of needles meant that I was a bit apprehensive at first. My fear of starving overcame my fear of needles though so I did the trial and found out that it was... amazing. Why had no-one told me about this wonderful place where you hang out with your friends, watch movies, play computer games, or board games, or the guitar, while having catered meals and getting paid thousands of dollars for it?
          After my first trial, for a new type of antibiotic, my fear of needles was well and truly conquered and three more drug trials followed (one for a flu vaccine, one for spray-on morphine and the other for something else I can't remember [probably for memory, which obviously didn't work]). Anyway, the reason that we're still in Brisbane is because the drug trial that I'm in at the moment is lasting for a month and a bit and I'm needed for constant check-ups so I can't skip town.
          I don't mind so much about staying in one place for a little while though, it gives us time to practice hobbies. Back in the last few weeks of being in Adelaide I became really inspired to learn how to use a bow, specifically a compound bow. I found out that the hunting laws in Australia differ from state to state, but are pretty relaxed when it comes to bows, and the thought of being able to fish for food around the coast, and bow-hunt for rabbits or game inland appealed to my inner Bear Grills (and don't pretend like I'm the only one!). Jess was really keen too but mostly because she wants her life to be more like a Robin Hobb book. So, when we arrived to Brisbane we went to an archery store, had some bows fitted and have been firing them at a make-shift target in the back yard ever since (Jess is much better than I am by the way (Remind me not to get cheeky within a hundred yards). We haven't taken them hunting yet. That should be interesting if and when it actually happens because Jess is more likely to hit something but is flat out refusing to prepare whatever she catches, and after seeing what she can do with a bow I'm not one to argue with her. Maybe hunting isn't the best idea. Can you skeet shoot with a bow and arrow?
          We've also been playing a lot of music. Jess and I have both been playing music for a few years, her with piano and voice, and me with guitar and voice, so we decided to learn some covers for some extra money. We even have a stage name worked out-
                                       Tim and Jess and the Whole Damn Universe
Blue will be mad that he's not involved, but he can't complain until he can rev out a decent tune. I should also mention Blue is very shitty at us. Apart from the occasional day trip up the coast to climb a mountain, or go to a beach, he's been sitting under the same tree the whole time. I'm missing being on the road too but we'll be doing more of that in a fortnight. For now though I'm off. I'll update again soon... probably.

This was the room that we walked into at Caboolture.

After a few week's practice.

First day with my bow.

Going on a boaty picnic for my birthday at Bribie Island.

 

Open mic Jam at Alloneword in the Valley.

Cocktails, cards and Jazz. This is my heaven.

   

A Very Delayed Update

I would like to be able to come back after a few weeks of not posting anything with stories of amazing adventures- you know, with explosions, briefcases full of money, and run-ins with the Scandinavian Mafia but unfortunately that's not the case. After the Gympie Muster music thingy we headed back to Brisbane to stay with Jess's family while figuring out our next step. I jump ahead a bit though, the Muster can't be breezed over like that.

It was four days of boozy, muddy, country fun. I felt a little bit out of place with my straw bowler and leather jacket while everyone had Driza-Bones and Akubras, but to my surprise everyone was really accommodating (apart from one loud-mouthed, drunken, ex-race car driving women who decided to slur out ramblings which I'm sure were insults). I think it might have been my city-boy naivety but I went in there thinking that I would be dodging Bundy-soaked punches every five minutes, but that really wasn't the case. I ended up meeting some great people and apart from the days of ankle deep mud, had a lot of fun.

This first section was written Saturday afternoon, before the happenings of the rest of this blog took place.

When we landed back in Brisbane we started looking for work... after a couple of weeks of sitting on arse of course. We posted an add on online saying the we were two travelers looking for work and had a few calls from farms within the next two days with offers. After some thought we decided on a fruit picking job in Caboolture, 40 minutes out of the city. We would leave on the Sunday to get settled in, then start work on Monday the 19th of September picking strawberries.

When I talked to the working hostel's management (an odd sounding man who wanted to be called Doc) he advised that Jess and I would have a room with a double bed, a TV, wifi and a heap of other things included. It was a little expensive for accommodation but according to the quoted pay for the work it should have been a breeze to live comfortably, and save money for our trip too.

What we found when we arrived on the Sunday was nothing like what we were told. We had alarm bells ringing as soon as we met Doc at his HQ (something about the cigarette wreaking pigsty that he was calling an office, the plaque on the wall claiming that he had a Doctorate of Divinity, or his stereotypical con-man appearance [a cross between Danny De Vito in the movie Matilda and Oscar the Grouch] probably did it) but we were tired and stupidly paid for the room up front for the next two weeks before going to check it out.

We then followed him across town to where we would be staying and ended up at what I can easily sum up as a crack-den. This tiny unit block had boarded up windows, graffitied walls inside and out, broken bits of furniture, broken glass and other miscellaneous crap scattered around everywhere. Two of the people that we met straight away looked like pretty serious users and another shirtless charmer looked at me like he was wondering how much he could get for my teeth. When Doc opened up our unit, which was already being occupied by two French people, he couldn't show us our room straight away because the light wasn't working. We had to follow the man back across town to get some globes.

The next trip from the office Doc didn't come with us, he left us to find our own way back. By the time we found the place again we were feeling some pretty mutual bad Ju Ju but were still thinking that it maybe wasn't all that bad. When we pulled up ready to unpack a younger guy named Tommy came over and introduced himself. When we said that we were going to be fruit picking he said that it's not something that he would ever do because he couldn't pick fast enough to make money from the commission based work- something that Doc neglected to tell us. In fact he specifically said that it was going to be an hourly wage. This info really pissed me off as I really didn't want to be doing commission work on this trip, but we're tough and weren't ready to throw in the towel yet.

We walked into our unit, I put in the new globe, turned on the light and looked around at the shit-hole in front of us. The room hadn't been cleaned from the last occupant and was filthy, to the point where I was worried about taking off my thongs- scattered litter, old sheets etc. etc. And what a surprise, there was no TV, no wifi and the double bed was actually a half dismantled bunk bed. Jess just looked at me and said "I don't like to think I've been spoiled in my life, but this is fucked." We must have been in shock because we unloaded our things into the room, but after less than five minutes of rational thought we said there is no way that we can do this and put all of our things back into Blue.

We raced back across town so that I could confront Doc and get our money back but when we arrived he wasn't around. I knocked on the second story where two guys were watching TV and asked if they knew where he was but they had no idea. One of them was nice enough to invite Jess and I inside for a beer so that we could wait in comfort, which we accepted. While sitting and watching a report on an Australian crazy man claiming he was Jesus, I told the two lodgers what was going on. They told us that this man Doc makes a living screwing people over. The word is that this place and the local thugs are in cahoots, and when the workers are all out people will come in and steal all of their valuables, and that people have tried to get their money back before but have failed. We waited for twenty minutes but still no Doc so we decided to leave back for Brisbane and call for a refund the next day. As we were driving away we saw his car returning home, so we did a u-turn and I confronted the bastard. All he would say, as I started telling him how he misrepresented our working and living arrangement was "Cancellation fee, one weeks notice and no refunds" over and over again as he walked from his car back into his office with his friend. As he sat there saying this phrase while lighting up a cigarette, eating what looked like two day old pasta and never once looking at me I wondered for the first time in my life how easy it would be to pull a man's ears off. I'm sure that his large maori friend in that back of the room would have made this difficult but it was still worth a thought.

I told him that we were obviously not going to get a resolution there and then so we would be in touch, then left with a new found skepticism of the human race. After talking to some lawyers and the Department of Fair Trade I found out that most of what this man did was illegal but we'll see whether we will get our money back or not. I did learn some valuable lessons though: one, never trust a person claiming that they have a Doctorate of Divinity or something equally as ridiculous, and never, ever go to Caboolture; even if you win the lottery and have to go there to pick up your prize- you're better off just forgetting about it.

We're now back where we started, looking for work in or around Brisbane although this time our accounts are a bit lighter so we're needing the money a bit more. I'll make sure my next post isn't as delayed as this one, but I'll leave you with the actual email sign-off from Doc just in case you find it as entertaining as I did. Love!

Dr.S*****P******* D.D.(Hon.), B.Sc.(Syd.), M.A.C.S., M.A.T.A.,STNIA Director Church of The Holy Smokers Lack of money is the root of all evil. No two people are equal. Jelly & Nuts delay old age. Every person is unique. HGH cures obesity, osteoporosis and emphysemia. Also prevents cancer. Smoking prevents mental illness and obesity. Nicotine is harmless. The Pill causes Depression, and obesity in Mother and Child. The Pill causes cancer in Mother and Child. Theocracy is the Best form of Government. CocaCola is the wonder drink. Good for baby good for you. There is no obesity problem in La France. Why? Ask MacDonalds etc. The Cancer Council and Australian Governments are discriminating against the minority communities that have a high percentage of smokers such as; Aborigines, Chinese, Arabs, Greeks, Yugoslavs, Albanians, Russians, Turks, Malaysianes, schizophrenics, manic-depressives, prisoners, etc etc

A Drizzly Day 11

          Quite a bit has happened since I wrote last. Noteworthy things like going to see the snow at Falls Creek (no skiing this time, but it looks like a lot of fun), drinking heavily with Geoff and the Mt Beauty locals (I'll replace the scotch next time I'm up there, I promise), then heading off from the comfort of Geoff's house to make it to the muster in Gympie, Queensland within three days or so.
          The first night away from Beauty we slept just off the road in the Snowy Mountains. We set the awning up on Blue (it took a while to convince him that he didn't look fat), made a fire, cracked a bottle of warm white and sat out under the stars watching Black Books on my tablet. We were thinking of doing the same the next night, but after a few more hours of driving we started craving a warm shower.
          As it was getting dark we were on the outskirts of the Blue Mountains. Almost every seasoned traveller that we've bumped into has said not to drive after dusk because that's when all of the animals think it's a good idea to run in front of your car, so when a sign for the Wombayan Caves Caravan Park came up we decided to stop. Jess was hoping for a clan of Wombat-Druids running the place but no such luck.
          We then were aiming to make it to the Queensland border by the next night. All of my loo, food and coffee breaks made that impossible though so we crashed in a town called Coonabarabran. Our little butane cookers came in handy as we sat on our motel room floor making a curry and watching trash TV. We needed the energy too because the next day we were determined to make it to Brisbane seven hundred kilometers away.
          I don't know what it is about travel, but for sitting on your arse all day it can really take it out of you. A full day of driving later we were pulling into Brissy- stressed, exhausted and hungry, but there none the less. Jess, the super-woman still managed to cook up dinner with her aunty Ruth as I helped by making sure the tv hadn't broken and that no-one had tampered with the couch.
          That was last night. Right now I'm lying down with Blue at the muster writing this. After we set up our camp I finally have a bit of time for some writing. Jess is drinking beer with her family (immediate and extended) and soon we'll be watching a whole bunch of live music and drinking bottles of... whatever's around and not stopping for the next few days. If I make it out the other side I'll write again. Have a goodun

I'm definitely going for a ski next time we're at the snow!

I was imagining that our fire was a dragon's egg.

This was every walkway at the muster.

 

Boy And Bear being amazing.

 

Our fellow camp members (the camp was called Diss'll Doo) at John Williamson. 

Attempting to dry my feet by the fire before going to sleep.

A Seedy Day 5.

Okay, to  pick up where I left off we made it to Mt Beauty in time for dinner with our friend Geoff and his little dog Billi and ate enough dhal to choke a cow. That was all well and good but what happened in the afternoon of day three is what I really wanted to write about. The incident started with Geoff suggesting a hike through a spot the locals call Mermaids, and Jess and I love a good wander so we headed off. This spot is well known around here as a swimming hole and fishing spot in the warmer months, but when it gets cold, and it gets really bloody cold as the water source for the river there is mostly  melting snow from the top of the surrounding ranges.

We were all rock hopping up the river in the late morning (excluding Blue who was off playing with the cows) to see how far we could get up the hikers trails. The paths that were beaten out by decades of hairy mountaineers (much like Geoff) had been over grown with blackberry bushes by this point, and anyone who has seen these bushes know that they're a spiky, clingy pain in the arse so they're best to be avoided. After a good half an hour of wandering up the river we found a point that we couldn't get past without getting wet so we decided to turn back, only to find that we couldn't see the rocks that we used to get there in the first place. What was happening was either the afternoon sun was melting the snow in the peaks, or the hydro-electric dam was releasing water from their catchment because they knew heavy rain was on the way, but whatever the hell the cause was, we were watching the river rise really quickly.

With very fast rising and fast moving water taking away more and more of our options we decided to take off our shoes and stick the shallow water to make it back to a clearing, but we had to be really quick because if the water depth reached about thirty centimeters it can take you off your feet and you'd be going for your last swim down the rapids. The water was too murky to see where the rocks were and because it was so cold our skin began to burn. Have you ever had freezing cold feet and then stubbed your toe? Well that was the next 5 minutes. When we finally made it to a dry spot on the side we were still a good few minutes from being home free. We had to decide to either get back in the water, which by this point was looking really risky, or tackle the blackberry bushes along the side of the embankment. Jess and I had jeans solid jackets on so it wasn't too bad for us, but Geoff was wearing shorts. He took point through the bushes and we all started tentatively making our way through. When we were finally clear his legs looked like they'd been attacked with a hedge trimmer.

As hairy as this could have gotten I'm glad we went through it- it's just another story to bore my future grandchildren with, except by then it will have evolved to have a hundred meter waterfall, acres of poison thorns and the Loch Ness Monster.

Since then we've been on a few more hikes (although not nearly as death defying), had quite a few more beers and some really good shit-talking sessions. We've got a bit more adventuring to fit in before Sunday when we head to the Gympie Muster country music festival in Queensland, but for now I'm off now to sit in a big recliner with an over-sized television and relax, I think we've earned it.

Geoff's friend Sarah's pooch. It has dread-locks!

Day Three

I've been meaning to update my blog over the last 48 hours but I've either been drifting in and out of mobile broadband reception or have been too busy driving like a man with a purpose to stop and take the time to write anything. I've finally caught a minute, sitting in our friend Geoff's computer room in Mt Beauty in my flannel pyjamas and dressing gown listening to a mixture of lounge jazz and Geoff's ramblings coming from the lounge room.

Before I start telling you what I've been doing since I last checked in I want to share a thought. During my hours of  arse-numbing driving I've been wondering how to write about Blue. I was fixated on the pathetic fallacy writing technique where you give life to a lifeless object, like when the dish ran away with the spoon, or John Howard's memoirs, and though that this might be the best way to bring the car into my writings. Blue then said that I was thinking into it too much so we just went on playing I Spy (he later said that if I ever refer to him as 'the car' again he'll have someone install ejector seats).

It's been great since I last checked in. Blue loved Mt Gambier (I think it had something to do with the big blue puddle in the middle of it), and the drive to our next stop was beautiful, even if every possible place to stop down the Great Ocean Road is occupied by bus loads of camera-happy tourists.

After a sleep in the most random, isolated little caravan park in the middle of the Great Otway National Park for day two, I took off again at the crack of nine to get to Jess's arriving airport in Avalon by mid afternoon. I blame it on the one hundred and twenty eight straight Nine Inch Nails songs, but I made it to the neighboring city Geelong with a few hours to spare. Knowing that it was only twenty minutes to Avalon I needed to make a pit stop otherwise I would get bored and probably fall asleep somewhere, possibly while driving.

What does someone do when trying to kill a few hours in a town that they've never been to? Why, go to the local maritime museum of course. After paying my four dollars entry fee you'd think that I would be able to roam around and look at all of the displays and half broken mannequins, but you'd be wrong. I had to stand there as the caretaker went into the history of sea travel and the wonders of today's aviation for the next twenty minutes with this monotone voice that put my ninth grade history teacher to shame. I looked around, took some photos and left hoping the whole time that because I was the only person in the museum he wouldn't get bored and give me a personalised tour. Twenty minutes later I was asleep in the Avalon Airport's car park. An hour or so after that I was grinning like an idiot as Jess was walking through the terminal. After the hello's and how-are-yous we drove, and that's almost an understatement. We had four hundred kilometers to cover from the airport to Mt Beauty by dinner otherwise we might miss out on Geoff's dhal, and if we were going to miss out on that we may as well have not left Adelaide in the first place.

Sorry to leave you on a tasty cliffhanger (all puns intended) but the rest is for tomorrow. It's now four thirty five and I'm three beers in, wanting to go back and play some more Rummikub. I'll say goodnight on behalf of Blue, Jess and myself and check in again as soon as I can.

Playing hide and seek in the Pinola pine forest.

Apparently Blue likes lighthouses. Who would have thought.

These guys wouldn't shut up.

Such a hard life.

Big Blue's first blue post

This is a blog about the adventures of a big blue van and the people who will be driving it around Australia... well it's most probably going to be mostly about the drivers... actually as I'm the one writing this it's probably going to be mostly about me, but Jess and Big Blue will definitely be contributing characters.

Now that we've established all that, my name is Tim (nice to meet you) and I'm currently on my first full day away from home. Yesterday was about saying bye to family and friends, buying last minute gadgets and ordering the mayhem that was in the back of Blue. I drove from Adelaide until my feet fell asleep and was determined to make it to Mt Gambier but stopped just shy in Pinola for the night. I asked a bottle shop owner where a good place to stop for the night was. He said to head up the road past the caravan park, turn right when you hit the ramp and stop by the lake. What he didn't tell me is that the lake is a swamp at the moment, and it's right next to a cemetery. Basically I stopped to sleep in any deep-southern American horror movie ever made.

I survived the night, even though I'm sure some frogs were planning something gruesome for snoring through their love songs, and am now in Mt Gambier. I would have given my kingdom for a café but had to settle on the cheap, screaming child filled alternative and lets be realistic, it's probably not going to be the last time in this trip. I want to tackle as much of the great ocean road today as I can, so I best drink up and ship out. I'll check in again soon.

Tim

Fixing up Blue for the trip.

 

Working on the curtains.

Blue with his bags packed and ready for the trip!