PARK LIFE

We'd read an article weeks before about urban vanning in Melbourne, describing how there was a grey area in the law protecting people who wished to sleep in they're vehicles around particular parks in the city, so when we arrived in Melbourne it seemed like the obvious thing to do!

Our Vanny was parked up at Edinburgh Gardens for just under two weeks, whilst we house hunted. The park itself is beautiful and quite accommodating for campers! a drinking water tap, toilets which are cleaned daily, it's funny after a few days living on the edge of the park we found ourselves almost becoming house proud, protective even, "you should have seen the state of the bathroom this morning!". I'm sure its quite a picture for the families picnicking, enjoying the last of the summer to see a long haired hippy stumble half naked from a van, early afternoon and head to the toilet block, towel, toothbrush and razor in hand. The only real issue with living at the park was the lack of shower, though we only had to walk a couple of mins down the road to the local swimming baths for that, at a cost of $4.50, not bad really and a beautiful open air pool!

Two weeks and we find a place to live, a house that is. Choosing to settle in one of the most desirable areas to live in the city made the house hunting a little trickier. Watching Gumtree like hawks, theres a lot of movement, rooms pop up all the time but if your not on the ball they're snapped up just as quickly as they came. I't's crazy, after a couple of days searching, you start to understand just how many people are hoping to find a place in the area, if an add's been up for 6 hours or more, don't bother, it's gone!

We view a few places and meet some local characters, like Khundu, we find his add scrawled on the side of a 'friends of the earth cafe', it reads: "my name is Khundu, I am a 42 yr old vergo rooster, I am an artists, the flat is filled with twigs and leaves, this is how I like to live my life", a nice guy, and a nice flat despite the foliage (and pieces of dead bird), though a little high strung and probably a little intense to share a house with, just the three of us.

So accustomed to living from the van we almost wished there was a safe place we could park up with access to a toilet and shower and reckoned we'd be happy enough, alas, such a place does not appear. We do however stumble upon a lovely house and lovely house mates, in the perfect spot for the right price! Kara and Teelo are a happy, hippy, travelling couple also fresh to Melbourne and have signed a years lease for a characterful bungalow in Fitzroy North. Ow, and it has an outdoor toilet, which surprisingly doesn't take long to get used to, to be honest it probably made for an easier transition into house living, given we're quite accustomed to venturing out for a pee these days!

BACK ALONG THE COORONG AND ON TO THE GREAT OCEAN ROAD

Having traversed these lands only three weeks previously we feel a little like were retracing our steps perhaps a little too soon. Still, this landscape has so much to offer and so many hidden gems that it would be stupid and naïve of us to feel like we'd 'done' this place already, for as we know, you don't 'do', places aren't 'done', as we learn as we take Chaz to see some of what we've seen and stumble on some things we haven't.

We manage to score some local produce driving through the Coorong, some fish caught fresh that morning and sold from someones house, and some local honey, no tender just a fridge next to the road and a trust box for the fee. It doesn't get much more local.

After weeks in a car park, a campsite is a godsend. Having not yet seen kangaroo's in the wild (alive), Chaz is slightly overwhelmed (as are we) when we arrive in a camping spot down the road from the Twelve Apostles to a field full to the brim of roo's roaming AS free as they like. To see so many (50+) so close, can be somewhat intimidating, still they keep to themselves, eating, boxing each other, not paying much attention to us happy snapping.

Kuala bears are odd creatures, not particularly keen on doing anything much, spending they're lives sitting around, getting high and eating. Which is funny, because our dear friend Chaz shares more than one of these qualities. We pull up in the Otways park flagged down by a small asian man, pointing furiously to the top of our van, “ah, another Hiace fanatic no doubt”. No, he's pointing to the Kuala hanging from a branch not half a meter from our roof, a little shocked but unscathed.

Chaz instantly scales the front of the van to get even closer, imagine if you will: The kuala high from the eucalyptus leaves, Chaz high on whatever's to hand, a couple of feet between them, two furry, stoned and bemused creatures, not quite understanding the situation, nor understanding each other. The situation climaxing in Chaz attempting to make contact, raising a finger as if expecting the kuala to follow suite, hmm . . that or shredding his wrist! We persuade Chaz that it's probably not the greatest idea.

Jaimie who of course has seen it all before and is as excited by the Kualas the second time round as she is road signs, attempts to draw attention from the tree hugging marsupials!

After loosing Chaz, our plans focus on Tasmania and a month of adventuring and trekking. But . . after catching a glimpse of our finances, we rethink our game strategy a little, and decide that perhaps its time for some city living, and some work! Time to recuperate the funds somewhat, this country is extremely expensive to live and travel in if your not working.

MOVING ON OUT

After a night on the coast, just south of Adelaide in a little place called Seaford, and a ‘minor’ disagreement with the holiday park manager, we decide to venture further south on the Fleurieu peninsula toward Kangaroo Island, famous for its . . koala’s. Reaching Cape Jervis on the tip of the peninsula after dark, running deep ‘in the red’, we seek the nearest caravan site to recharge, clean and generally rest, and just in time as a friendly neighbouring vanner informs us that a heavy storms on its way. We see the storm through no worries, top down, tucked up. Chaz however, in his tent the poor thing, has encountered a number of issues through the night, first moving his tent for fear of being blown off the peninsula, then being pinned to the ground by the poles stricken by extreme wind, and finally having to initiate an intricate mote system inside of the tent for the accumulating water. The next day brings sunshine and blue skys, after some debate we decide to pass on the Kangaroo Island experience, deciding we can do without the hefty ferry fee and that were likely to encounter the islands inhabitants on our journey naturally.

AND THEN THERE WAS THREE

After almost three weeks in Adelaide,  festivalling, hanging out with the locals and taking in the sights we feel ready to hit the road and allow our hosts to reclaim their living space and car-park which we have somewhat commandeered these last weeks. Not able to thank these guys enough for their hospitality, but more for enabling us to really experience Adelaide like we would never have been able if not for their kindness, we leave hoping they’ll one day allow us to repay the favour in our own town.

Eager to ensure the vans in good shape, before we begin the road trip with Chazzy, we get her booked into a garage for a wheel rotation and re-alignment, and also for a break check as Jaimie’s been experiencing some shuddering when breaking. The mechanic Rob, who happens to be an old Scottish chap, which is quite reassuring when so far from home, tells us there’s nothing wrong with the breaks, in fact they’re brand new! The shuddering is most likely something to do with the suspension given her age, but ensures us there’s no danger. And so were fit for the road, if a little hanging and bedraggled from the last-night shenanigans!

BARRIO

Barrio, a bar, venue and all round fun complex built especially for the fringe festival in the heart of the city, designed primarily to stage the artists and performers over the festival, but in the evenings opens up to the public. Every night there’s a chance to gain quick entry given you bring a desired gift, the theme of which changes nightly. We come on a night when the theme of the gift is arts and craft, brilliant, we can do that! I instantly begin fashioning a malteaser box (which by the way, are not the same in Australia), Chaz reaches for a cigarette butt and some old chewing gum and Jaimie disappears, only to return minutes later with an A3 Van Gough style print happened to find on the street!

The place is amazing, built completely from recycled materials. There’s a tequila bar, a toast factory, a large selection of old deep-sea diving equipment, even an area to create your own ornaments at which Jaimie acquires a fawn head plaque and continues to give it a Jackson Pollock meets Freddy Kruger style face lift. The rest of the evening is spent, blind drunk playing paparazzi, snapping Jaimie and her alien fawn growth next to anyone who's interested, and anyone who isn't.

and the madness continued ......

WOMADALAIDE

Being the stingy, griping English tourists that we are, we ovoid the $320 festival ticket price and enjoy the festival for free, that is between Brads offerings and some sneaky fencepionage and infiltration. Ok not supporting the world music cause with money but definitely in presence, dancing like no ones watching, except they definitely were! A funny crowd at the Womadelaide, strangest festival crowd we’ve ever met, mostly middle aged, upper class, very conservative and reserved, there simply to appreciate the music, in their own way. Each to their own, but if you ask me I'm sure they could afford to loose a few inhibitions!

Easy to feel like the raucous English crowd at times, but I wouldn't want to change the way we have fun, and those with they’re heads properly screwed 'off' soon follow suite.  

Upon 'alternative' entry one day, I land from a high jump to find myself not inside the festival but inside a bloody ZOO! Now I know this may sound highly exciting and dangerous but before I let the truth fall second to fantastical fictions I must confess, I landed inside of the English part of the zoo! Bollocks! not cornered by kangaroos and snakes but surrounded by life stock and rabbits. Great, a Yorkshire-man in the middle of an Australian zoo in the middle of the English farm animal section, I reckon if I hung around any longer I may be mistaken for an exhibition myself!

The festival leaves a good impression, we see loads of amazing music, Staff Benda Bilili  play all three days, seeing the band pre festival made the experience so much more. The love and hope these guys emanate on and off stage is extraordinary, surreal considering the hardships they have and are facing as we read in the news of some of the issues facing the people of Kinshasa and the democratic republic of the Congo, though I guess love and hope is an important message as any.

Chic, who the hell is Chic? Well we found out first hand who Chic was, disco innovators and responsible for almost every disco number you've ever heard! Though you do get the impression the man behind it alls somewhat bitter about his back seat approach to creating hits. “Funny, I've had seven number ones in Australia and I've never been here!” Funky enough to keep us groovin for hours, sober as a judge, before we'd figured a ploy to smuggle our booze in as well as ourselves, half pints (or 'pots') are bad enough as a general serving never mind at inflated festival price! It doesn't take long to figure out a little import.

One night were walking through the food stalls when we spot a queue ten times longer than any other, bustling with eager punters. Intrigued we head to the front to see what everyone's queueing for, doughnuts! Everyone’s queueing for doughnuts, we like doughnuts as much as the next person but this is a little weird, we pass. The queue endures for the duration of the festival, one night Jaimie even encounters a girl scoffing one in the ladies toilets, another girl spotted her and a full blown discussion broke out, “Are those the Byron bay doughnuts, oh my god they are so amazing”. On the last night we give in to intrigue and decide to get a bite of the hysteria and . . . they're just doughnuts, hot, doughy, sugary and very lovely but doughnuts none the less, obviously these people have never been to Blackpool!

Tinariwen were also on the bill, a group of Saharan desert rockers. Enchanting music, we manage to meet the group after their gig. Again, Jaimie pulling out French phrases I had no idea she knew and myself cowering sheepishly behind her, trying in vein, mumbling something about French cuisine no doubt. They don't attempt any English but one look in the eye from these guys says a thousand words. On the way out I bump into the prolific dub producer Mad Professor who, amongst other chit chat, offers me some parenting advice, unnecessary but why not!