Holiday Diary: The Drive

Doing a 6 hour drive with three kids under six is never an easy ask. Thank goodness we have them split across two cars, with Oma and Opa having the pleasure of travelling without the little treasures.

Having left the big smoke at about 9, we rock into Barinsdale just in time for lunch. The kids finally meet up in the Fish and Chips shop as we order lunch. They cause a tornado. The fish is cooked, and we break open the paper packaging in a park. Devoured in minutes.

The park is famous amongst travellers boasting a huge slide, swings, play equipment, and the best flying fox I have ever seen. Kid heaven. Even the little guy, just turned two, is running from one bit to the other with glee.

When the kids aren't watching, Oma and Opa take their leave. Some excuse about "get there early and set things up". Maybe just as well. The kids have just discovered the flying fox and wild screams of semi joy, semi fear pierce the air, as the little tuckers ride on a toy designed for teenagers. Yes, the little guy too. Even the parents have a go, with likewise similar screams.

When the heavens open up, we make the excuse that it's time to go. Sabina has actually already exhausted her lunch energy and sits in the back munching on grapes. "Mama, I'm finished", she pushes the grape container under my elbow. Five minutes later she's asleep. Bliss.

Now we drive through beautiful forested countryside, chatting and reminscing about the days before children and marriage when we used to travel with much more gear than just two kayaks. "Smoke over road". We pass the sign unfussed. Not so the oodles of campervans.

Finally we apprach a big yellow mushroom cloud. We get the works as we pass through the back burning area. I nearly hit the roof when I see flames in a tree, and shout with joy pointing to the smoking bushes. We wave to the CFA attending the area. After a month of fire activity, and being on alert, and cleaning up, and, and, and ... we get to see a fire! Well, remnants of it. Yay!

We arrive in Merimbula and pick up a stiff drink in the pub. Then to the holiday house, where Oma and Opa have things in control. Until the kids start running around that is. The stiff drinks come in handy. The house is a screaming mess as underexercised but overtired kids race around incoming baggage.

We all sigh relief when they are finally in bed. The pizza goes down a treat. The view is great. The holiday begins.