The Journey Home

Embarking from the ferry on a cold and frosty morning was a shock to the system, but we’d had plenty of warning. The daily temperatures had taken a downward trend as we had also headed southwards. As we turned the corner from New South Wales along the south coast of Victoria, the weather had that familiar Tassie winter feel to it.

We had a few days on a farm in Tostaree, near Lakes Entrance, with a beautiful outlook over fields of grazing sheep and cattle, but had a distinct white frost over them every morning. Our lovely hosts Greg and Vicki make their backyard available to campers to help supplement their income, as the farm has suffered considerably in recent years because of lack of rain. We had the use of a large room converted from an old barn, complete with huge open fire, kitchen, bathroom, 8-ball table, dart board, table tennis, piano and sound system, through which my guitar got a good workout. As we were their only clients for these three days, we had the facility to ourselves, with Greg and Vicki joining us each night for drinks and a shared meal. It was a memorable stay.

Tostaree farmstay, near Lakes Entrance.

One of many trestle bridges of southern Victoria, now disused but a marvel of timber engineering from a century ago.

The final few days before going home were spent at a flashy resort in the coastal town of Inverloch, about two hours’ drive from the ferry in Melbourne . Our nightly rate was considerably cheaper than full price courtesy of our RACT membership, and it was certainly a luxurious way to finish off our mammoth trip, made even more special by having cousins Phil and Michelle join us for a few days from Melbourne. With heated indoor pool, spa and sauna, bar and restaurant on-site, and a panoramic view over Bass Strait, it was a spectacular place to stay.

However, after five months on the road, it was time to go home. A lot had happened while we were away – none more important than our darling daughter slowly changing shape from a growing baby. It was such a beautiful sight to behold, to see her as soon as we rode into town, we just couldn’t wait any longer. My sister had moved house, and in doing so had become a very capable house-sitter for us while she searched for a new home. The timing was perfect, finding one and moved into it the very weekend before our return.

Over those five months, we’d journeyed northwards through the middle of the eastern states as far as Cooktown, and then south along the entire east coast of Australia, travelling over fifteen thousand kilometres using over two thousand litres of diesel from 35 fuel stops. There were so many indelible memories, from the Broken Hill desert to cruising the mighty Hawkesbury River, from cassowaries of far-north Queensland to crocodiles of the Daintree, from snorkelling the Great Barrier Reef to getting splashed from breaching humpback whales off Coffs Harbour. It’s been a dream come true.

The Journey.

But travelling for the year has not finished yet, for we are only home a month before flying overseas to fulfil yet another life-long goal. Switzerland, Greece and Germany, with Amsterdam and Budapest thrown in for good measure, and celebrating Anne’s 60th birthday along the way. We should get home just in time to become first-time grandparents. It will be an unforgettable year.