Typical day in Tinks
I wrote this whilst on the road so that I could remember exactly what it was like. I wrote it in Eucla which is one of the stops on the Nullarbour drive from Western Australia towards Adelaide. I'm a bit late adding it to the blog, but I want it here anyway...
I wake up early. You know how it is when you're camping , when the sun's up so are you. I never wake up as early as Pete though, he's always up before me. This morning we're in a paid camp (yesterday was a hard day so we treated ourselves. $8 between us! We normally camp for free). It's 6am and it's cold outside so I roll over, pull the sleeping bag and duvet over me and go back to sleep. If it had been hot we would have been up and out so as to get a few hours driving in whilst it's still cool as Tinks overheats slightly when it's hot and the van cab can get to 40 degrees. But today there are gales outside so, with the pop-top down to protect it and no back awning on as it would flap about all over, I snooze.
Pete comes back from his early morning wandering and we have brekky. Always tea. Him weetabix, me coco-pops ( treat, although they're useless as they never fill you up for more than an hour). Today we have the luxury of the toaster and the electric kettle. Normally tea is brewed up on the camp stove but we're low on gas right now and the last three roadhouses didn't have any so that's another reason why we went for a paid camp. That and the shower. Oh yes. It's not often that we have them when we're on the road. Normally it's a song and dance with a couple of inches of water in the washing up bowl, a flannel, a jug and the privacy of the back awning with all the water soaking into the red dirt beneath my flip-flops and also going all over the esky.* But the hassle is always worth it to feel human again.
With breakfast over it's time to pack up: make bed; clear away dishes (dirty ones into the bowl to wash later); stove away; torches, alarm clock and toothbrushes in the drawer; secure cupboards and drawers with bungy cords; pull back curtains and secure with press-studs; bring boogie boards from driver's seat and put on bed; bring petrol canisters in from the cab and put at the foot of the bed; dump everything else stored overnight in the front (fleeces, bags, magazines) on the bed; put pop-top down and secure; take down back awning, fold and put it on top of the boogie boards on the bed; put esky in the back followed by all three 10L water canisters (after filling up four 1.5L bottles to drink whilst driving); slide surfbord in so it sits tights; shut back door and lock; jump in front; take sun-shield down; fingers crossed - start the engine.
Every morning I cross my fingers. Most days I want Pete to drive first. Tinks has been an angel so far (touch wood) but I always worry that today will be the day.**
Once on the road we chat a bit with the driver always watching (a) LPG - it needs filling up every 300km and (b) temperature guage. After a bit the novelty of the morning wears off and the passenger will head back onto the bed to play on the PSP, snooze or read. The passenger will also check the map book at least 20 times per hour just to see if the distance between A and B has halved since the last time they looked or the rest stops have suddenly become more interesting for some reason. The passenger's other job is to hand water bottles to the driver at regular intervals. The driver tries not to get blown off the road by road trains or to die of boredom on long stretches (made easier by listening to the ipod). Boredom usually drives us to eat crisps too early and eat lots of jelly dinasours that we shouldn't. Lunch is an exciting diversion. We pick a rest stop, try not to puncture the tyres on the rough ground and come to a halt. Today's rest area was fly-infested so we popped the top and had our hoummus picnic inside. Food is good a la Tinks (Emil Esky serves us well). Once all is scoffed and packed up again it's on the road once more. Every 300km we stop for gas (or, if the roadhouse doesn't have gas we thank the lord that we can switch to petrol like today). We pick a rest stop for the evening and hope that we get there before dark. Arriving at rest areas in the dark means you're convinced that there are murderers there. Arriving in daylight renders the same place as quite a pleasant place to stop.
Once stopped it's packing in reverse although some nights we don't bother with the awning - to stop the wind and also to make us feel safer if the rest stop is empty of fellow travellers. Most nights I will find something mechanical on Tinks to stress about - the radiator being too hot; battery being dead - tonight it's the oil leak that she's always had but seems to have got decidedly worse. I love Tinks, but my stress levels will go down dramatically when we sell her. Although who am I kidding? I'll stress about something else then.***
Once set up at a camp we close all the doors (to keep the mozzies out) and turn on the lovely light that works for several hours off the battery (and makes me stress each and every morning that we've used it for too long the night before). Then the stove comes out and the kettle goes on. Ah, tea. Then I make dinner. The Pete washes up. Then we might have a couple of cold beers and chat. Read. Play PSP. Tonight we're watching the rest of Alien on the PSP (marvellous gadget - especially when it charges off the cigarette lighter).
Then around 9pm that's it for the day. Brush teeth outside with the aid of a water bottle (to stop the sink from smelling). Have a wee and try not to splash! Get in sleeping bag and duvet. Switch off light and ignition. Sleep the sleep of the dead until the sun comes up on another campervan day.
Tinks, I'll miss you. XXX ****
I wake up early. You know how it is when you're camping , when the sun's up so are you. I never wake up as early as Pete though, he's always up before me. This morning we're in a paid camp (yesterday was a hard day so we treated ourselves. $8 between us! We normally camp for free). It's 6am and it's cold outside so I roll over, pull the sleeping bag and duvet over me and go back to sleep. If it had been hot we would have been up and out so as to get a few hours driving in whilst it's still cool as Tinks overheats slightly when it's hot and the van cab can get to 40 degrees. But today there are gales outside so, with the pop-top down to protect it and no back awning on as it would flap about all over, I snooze.
Pete comes back from his early morning wandering and we have brekky. Always tea. Him weetabix, me coco-pops ( treat, although they're useless as they never fill you up for more than an hour). Today we have the luxury of the toaster and the electric kettle. Normally tea is brewed up on the camp stove but we're low on gas right now and the last three roadhouses didn't have any so that's another reason why we went for a paid camp. That and the shower. Oh yes. It's not often that we have them when we're on the road. Normally it's a song and dance with a couple of inches of water in the washing up bowl, a flannel, a jug and the privacy of the back awning with all the water soaking into the red dirt beneath my flip-flops and also going all over the esky.* But the hassle is always worth it to feel human again.
With breakfast over it's time to pack up: make bed; clear away dishes (dirty ones into the bowl to wash later); stove away; torches, alarm clock and toothbrushes in the drawer; secure cupboards and drawers with bungy cords; pull back curtains and secure with press-studs; bring boogie boards from driver's seat and put on bed; bring petrol canisters in from the cab and put at the foot of the bed; dump everything else stored overnight in the front (fleeces, bags, magazines) on the bed; put pop-top down and secure; take down back awning, fold and put it on top of the boogie boards on the bed; put esky in the back followed by all three 10L water canisters (after filling up four 1.5L bottles to drink whilst driving); slide surfbord in so it sits tights; shut back door and lock; jump in front; take sun-shield down; fingers crossed - start the engine.
Every morning I cross my fingers. Most days I want Pete to drive first. Tinks has been an angel so far (touch wood) but I always worry that today will be the day.**
Once on the road we chat a bit with the driver always watching (a) LPG - it needs filling up every 300km and (b) temperature guage. After a bit the novelty of the morning wears off and the passenger will head back onto the bed to play on the PSP, snooze or read. The passenger will also check the map book at least 20 times per hour just to see if the distance between A and B has halved since the last time they looked or the rest stops have suddenly become more interesting for some reason. The passenger's other job is to hand water bottles to the driver at regular intervals. The driver tries not to get blown off the road by road trains or to die of boredom on long stretches (made easier by listening to the ipod). Boredom usually drives us to eat crisps too early and eat lots of jelly dinasours that we shouldn't. Lunch is an exciting diversion. We pick a rest stop, try not to puncture the tyres on the rough ground and come to a halt. Today's rest area was fly-infested so we popped the top and had our hoummus picnic inside. Food is good a la Tinks (Emil Esky serves us well). Once all is scoffed and packed up again it's on the road once more. Every 300km we stop for gas (or, if the roadhouse doesn't have gas we thank the lord that we can switch to petrol like today). We pick a rest stop for the evening and hope that we get there before dark. Arriving at rest areas in the dark means you're convinced that there are murderers there. Arriving in daylight renders the same place as quite a pleasant place to stop.
Once stopped it's packing in reverse although some nights we don't bother with the awning - to stop the wind and also to make us feel safer if the rest stop is empty of fellow travellers. Most nights I will find something mechanical on Tinks to stress about - the radiator being too hot; battery being dead - tonight it's the oil leak that she's always had but seems to have got decidedly worse. I love Tinks, but my stress levels will go down dramatically when we sell her. Although who am I kidding? I'll stress about something else then.***
Once set up at a camp we close all the doors (to keep the mozzies out) and turn on the lovely light that works for several hours off the battery (and makes me stress each and every morning that we've used it for too long the night before). Then the stove comes out and the kettle goes on. Ah, tea. Then I make dinner. The Pete washes up. Then we might have a couple of cold beers and chat. Read. Play PSP. Tonight we're watching the rest of Alien on the PSP (marvellous gadget - especially when it charges off the cigarette lighter).
Then around 9pm that's it for the day. Brush teeth outside with the aid of a water bottle (to stop the sink from smelling). Have a wee and try not to splash! Get in sleeping bag and duvet. Switch off light and ignition. Sleep the sleep of the dead until the sun comes up on another campervan day.
Tinks, I'll miss you. XXX ****
*Esky - brand name for cool boxes here in Oz (Esky is short for Eskimo). We had a 65L huge one.We named him Emil after the footballer.
**Such a day never came. The valiant and beatiful Tinks never let us down once - the only time she didn't start was when a battery wire came loose and when it happened we were safely esconsed on a camp site in the spawling megalopolis that is Perth.
***I was right. I still stress just as much, just about other things. I thought travellers were supposed to be chilled?
****I do miss her. Lots. She was fab and it was a pleasure to have owned her. Big kisses to Tinks.
posted by Faye @ 2:08 am
1 Comments:
At 7:17 pm,
Alan said…
Ah the delights of an eski / cool box / ice box / chilly bin. Seems as if you`re mis-using yours though - the ones on our truck are reserved for alcohol only.
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