Driving Stories

This post by Stefan and Leen. Both writing, both awesome.

Leen's pictures from the passenger seat

As previously mentioned - to the exclusion of all else - we recently went on a road trip.

Unexpectedly, we did quite a bit of driving. Over the ten days we were out of town we were driving for about 40 hours - nine of those on the last day.

It was heavenly. Never before has our ensemble been blessed with a vehicle capable of such a journey. Our previous vehicles have seen us do some exciting 'sitting by the side of the road' and 'waiting for the rain to pass before trying to turn the key again', but we were eager for something different.

So, with a shiny new GPS suctioned to the windscreen, Bullet Bill up front and Gloomy Bear in the back, off we drove into the sunrise. Here's some of the funnest stuff we did with our seatbelts on.

We learned that it's spooky to drive down a deserted road lined with dead crows, until you realise they are only shredded tires. Then it's just weird.

When one wishes to see a wombat or kangaroo while driving, it is important to clarify that it should not have been killed by a previous motorist. Otherwise you get sad. Oh we saw a wallaby - that was cool cause when we stopped to looked at him he just stood still as a statue and we had a stare off - he got bored and left eventually, we also saw a couple of hares. And kookaburras (awesome).

We managed to make it seven days without getting beeped at. When we did finally get parped in Ballarat, it was from a nice man gently encouraging Stefan to stop heading the wrong way down a one way street. No-one was around to parp when Stefan later confused a road for a two lane highway and lazily drove down the wrong side of the street while singing along to Snoop and Timberlake's 'Signs'. 

We drove along a winding road that took us to the top of Mount Franklin (or Lalgambook as it was known by the Jajowurrong people). We have seen the volcano where your water comes from, and it is magnificent. (The water doesn't actually come from the top of the mountain but from a pump across the road.)

In Melbourne trams share the roads with cars. Due to this peculiarity they have invented the hook turn, wherein motorists turn right from the left of the road. It makes sense once explained to you by a local (thanks Verne), but not if you roll in to the middle of the city from interstate and wonder why everyone is honking and your neck veins are going all percussive.

Luke encapsulated the concept well: "If you want to turn right, go as left as possible, wait for the lights to change, and then step on it! Of course!"

We got lost exactly one time, which we wear as a badge of honour.

We drove all over the place. In Broken Hill, you're looking at a three hour drive to get anywhere else. In Victoria everything is 20 minutes away, and we indulged. We drove through all sorts of places and would find ourselves visiting one place at a time until we were accidently hundreds of kilometres away. Blackwood is beautiful, cold, and blessed with an amazing deli/bakery and a great looking cricket ground. Kyneton was described to us as "a bastard of a place" by Leen's dad - he wasn't wrong but we had to check it out anyway cause Kyneton Springs has that great Gauva flavoured mineral water. Mount Macedon is full of rich people. Trentham has a great place to eat called the Red Beard Cafe (that served milk straight from a cow) and a really pretty cemetary. Daylesford - and the whole State for that matter - smells great. (And daisies grow everywhere!!! - who planted them? No-one my friends, they just grow!)

After our first five hours on the road we turned off to see Dunolly (where Leen spent years 2 to 3 of her life) and suddenly the landscape changed. The air was moist and trees were everywhere. Glorious. 

Victoria boasts excellent signage, which exuded much more of a 'we give a toss' than New South Wales. NSW sucks boi! Highways were free of rubbish and 'Adopt a Highway' signs thanked those responsible. All places of interest were clearly marked. Other signs encouraged us to call a number and dob in any litterers we saw. We witnessed none, but really wanted to call that number. A majority of signage found alongside NSW country roads bears a yellow M and is printed on brown, crumpled paper.

Leen's cousins Glen and Patsy took us for an awesome Sunday drive and pointed out cool stuff like:

• A gully that was mined out for gold by hand in the 1850s
• The numerous places where her dad used to live, including in a tent near Blackwood where it would have been fuh-reezing
• and a house where an old lady his grandma used to visit lived. His grandmother was worried as no-one had seen this lady's husband in a while so she checked in on her and there was her husband... propped up in his armchair - dead! He had been for a while and she was to distraught to move him. Spooky. Victoria is perfect for spooky stories like that. 

Happy Halloween mother-truckers!