“Which way?” I ask. “Not sure. Put it into Google Maps and check the options” she answers. The itinerary is scratched on a shopping receipt shoved in the side door pocket and lists five overnight destinations. “The GPS is melting down, it wants you to turn right,” I direct. “I can’t, there’s a concrete median strip, the entire length of this highway” she replies. “I think that was an illegal U-Turn.” I add constructively. “I know. I didn’t think we’d make it with our turning circle either.” She laughs. “No biggie. Public holidays, double demerits and heavier fines in NSW. What better way to start a road trip? They make it hard to get out of Sydney, so let’s just do what it takes!” More useful commentary from the passenger seat. Nothing new to my best friend. The only time she’s ever been annoyed travelling with me was 30 years ago in Italy. Back streets, late nights, long kilometres walking to youth hostels and a need for food extending beyond popcorn dipped in jam. This time we are doing it in style. (Popcorn does make an appearance down the track though).
Onto the Pacific Highway we leave the verdant north shores for the wide open road.
“You said you ‘n’ me was gonna get out of town and for once just really let our hair down. Well darlin’, look out ’cause my hair is comin’ down!” (Thelma: Thelma and Louise).
In the absence of any real long hair in the car, with a swag of podcasts and audiobooks ready for play and plenty to talk about we are set for the kind of ‘hair – down’ adventure. Besides, we have matching pineapple PJ’s packed. What more is needed for an adventurous trip to the tropics?
Kam – il -a – roi . Coon- a- bara- bran. Bog- a- bil-la. Goon-di- win- di. Four syllables. Big names for small country towns. It’s not difficult to see why songs have been written about outback places. The sorghum fields stretch for miles. Green meets blue. Wild horses and cows roam. The road is strewn with animals of all kinds and native carnivores swoop for a meal in front of fast moving cars. But pork?
“Gonna get myself a rifle and a load of good mongrel dogs.
Cause there’s too many pigs around Goondi
But if you gun them you can make a buck.
Tie em around the ankles
And hang em on the back of your truck.”
John Williamson, what were you thinking? Goondiwindi Pork? Where are we going?Lesson 1: There’s obviously something to be said for pre -trip research.
Rolling across the Queensland boarder along the picturesque bridge into Goondiwindi, there are no signs of pork. No rifles. No hunting dogs. A town famous for a race horse it seems -Gunsynd. A late afternoon stroll along the peaceful McIntyre River wraps us in the scent of Jacaranda blossom, Bougainvillea delights, Oleander wonder, and Mango magic. Tropical PJ’s here we come. Dinner at the historic Victoria Hotel, sees us pass on the pork sausages and settle for vegetarian. Too much meat today.
After eight hours of driving. One last challenge remains for the day. The cryptic motel Wi-Fi password as written: SNOWWHITE1(LOWERCASE). We crack the code, upload our photos, send messages to family and fall asleep to the tune “Taking me somewhere I’ve never been. Goondiwindi Moon.” (Lee Kernaghan). Chicken tomorrow?
Brilliant!!!! Too much fun!!!! Xxx
Yes, and that was only day 1 🙂
Can’t wait for the rest of the days!!! 😂😂
Hilarious ladies! 🙂
Sounds like a great day!
Thanks for sharing Jarka!
Looking forward to day 2!!!
Xxx
Thanks Wendy. Day 2 is nearly ready 🙂