To Omeo

This weekend we're off to Omeo. Paddling. It's becoming a bit of an annual event. Remember last year's trip? The drive? Racing along the Tambo? Sabina's patient "It's a long way"? Seeing Spirit and Rain? Memories of Winter Classiscs gone by and the Mr Men team?

This year we're driving up together as a family. Mr and Mrs Orange (our boats) on the roof. At Bairnsdale we stop and ride the flying fox. It's still a long way, and darkness descends as we glimpse the Tambo. The wind howls. We drive. "But when will we get there?", quizzes Sabina. The road winds, the Blue Duck lights up. We arrive.

I busy myself preparing dinner, Pete brings things in from the car. Sabina explores. By the time dinner is ready, she has decided she will sleep in the top bunk. After dinner, we still seem to be busy settling in. Sabina tugs at my sleeve. "Mama, there is no bath", she says. "I don't want to shower. Can I just go to bed?" Deep down, I gasp. A child that just wants to go to bed? This is pretty cool. I dig out her pyjamas, and just point out that she must brush her teeth. Minutes later she tucks herself in.

S and R waltz in, baby in one arm, bottle of red in the other. We chill out, sip the wine and joke.

The generator goes off at about 10pm, our guests leave, we hear D and A arrive and settle in next door. A million starts twinkle outside, and a freezing chill sweeps the valley.