Not The Cucumber!

Car journeys lasting longer than an hour, when the boys were small, used to be my definition of hell.

As we pulled away from home last week, I looked at them in the back, surrounded by enough electronic devices to stock a small JB-HiFi, and remembered the bum and mind-numbing journeys of my childhood. I tried to tell them, but they just looked at me with pity while inserting their earphones. Sigh.

Judge away, but the peace these electronic devices brings cannot be underestimated. Once we are sure it’s safe (i.e. no eavesdroppers) TS and I have some of our best chats.

But best of all is gazing out of the window, watching the breathtaking Australian scenery go by, the rhythmic sound of tyres over tarmac lulling me to sleep.

Obviously, this tranquillity never lasts.

Pulling over to change drivers, I marvelled again at the scenery, chanting my usual “Can you believe we live here?” mantra.

(Which frankly, TS is bored with hearing.)

I readied the camera.

TS announced he needed a pee.

Expecting him to dodge behind a tree I took aim with the lens.

Bad move.

Here was a man in need of some communing with nature.

He peed next to me.

Face pressed against the car window, CM exclaimed “Urgh…look at the mess he’s making!” (He is his father’s son after all).

Racing back to the car, narrowly avoiding the piss pool spreading out on the dusty ground, I lamented again my existence as the lone female in the House of Trouser.

(TS was to the left of me as this was taken)

Another 2 hours passed. The boys eyes were now fully rectangular and they were whingeing intermittently…”how much further?”, “can I have a snack?” etc.

I returned to window-gazing hoping the peaceful landscape would help me drown out the moaning.

We began to pass signs about fruit flies…What the what the?

And then we saw the road block.

For confiscating fruit and vegetables.

I tried to banter with the “fruit officer” as I handed over our apples and bananas.

Unsmiling, she barked: “Do I need to search the rest of the vehicle?”

I was borderline hysterical with giggles as I said no.

AND THEN  I spotted another contraband item.

TS could not have sounded more English as he exclaimed:

“NOT THE CUCUMBER FOR THE GIN!!!!”

The fruit officer’s face was a picture.

Poms on the road, eh?

Do you love or loathe road trips?

Road Trip!

By the time you read this I will have peeled my eyelids open and embarked on a trip to South Australia to do this.

As a Pom long road trips are a novelty.

In England this is what happens on a busy holiday weekend.

TS and I have been known to just stay home rather than sit in the giant car park that is the UK road system.

Lots of huffing and puffing. Lots of staring at the back of the car in front. Lots of “why did we take this road?”

And the service stations. Hell on earth.

Driving through the lush green countryside of the UK can be wonderful, however, all too soon another town or village appears.

Then.

Australia.

Since we arrived we have driven twice to Adelaide to see my best friend.

Once we left Melbourne,I was staggered at the miles and miles (or should I say kilometre after kilometre) of nothing.

Well, not nothing, obviously.

Wide open spaces. As far as the eye could see. I could not stop exclaiming to TS (who has been in love with Australia since forever and visited several times before we met).

Perfection.

I will never get bored with this.

Up, up and away…

I Love Hot Air Balloons.

So what? Well, I have severe vertigo for a start. (yes, yes, I know I did a skydive). I am also Mrs. “What If?”. I am scared of doing anything remotely exciting, you know, IN CASE I DIE.

There are several Japanese tourists have me in their photos after I totally freaked out at the top of the Eiffel Tower during a romantic break with The Saint, B.C. (I almost broke his finger that day).

I am sure that there are also photos of me rocking back and forth on the floor of La Sagrada da Familia in Barcelona too.

Best to forget my visit to the Eureka Tower.

The Saint loves it when I want to climb tall buildings.

For some reason though hot air balloons make my heart sing.

Typical of his lovely nature, The Saint risked damage to his body parts and booked us a balloon flight for my recent-ish, significant birthday. I know, I look great for 30 don’t I?

Weirdly, I didn’t get vertigo.