Wee Wee Mammy!

I think it’s time for a brief Nabeela update- she has advanced so much in her life in these last few weeks it’s taken my breath away!

After her two-year-milestone growth spurt- which lasted several days and involved feeding lots off me, eating little solid food, extra naps and a smidge of frustration (from her)- we now have a bigger baby, both in body and mind. It looks like it’s time for us to rummage through the charity shops for some new clothes for her. I’m disappointed about this actually; I was hoping to have made her several staples that would see her through for longer by now, but alas this hasn’t been possible.

Here’s a rundown of her most recent sayings.

‘Mammy and daddy go on an aeroplane to Bali’ (Nabeela seems to be implied in this)! I’m fascinated by the impression Bali obviously had on her. Nearly every day we hear about us going to Bali and she often talks about the hotel room, the swimming pool and, of course, the plane.

Whenever she sees a plane she now points to it and exclaims ‘like Pee-pee’- who is the grandfather she has never met. I love that, although she has never met him, she is at least aware of him and what he does (he’s a pilot). When she does meet him (hopefully soon) she will be able to put a person to the name and enjoy the encounter more because of it.

Proving her inherent independence, Bee can often be heard telling us that she wants to ‘do it see-self’ (by herself in other words). When this is for something she isn’t able to do yet, I tell her I’ll help and she seems to accept this with no qualms. Her independence has also stretched to saying bye to us and walking off on her own, whilst insisting she wants to go by herself! Hence the method of saying I’ll help.

As regards to our Elimination Communication (EC) with Nabeela, we think we may be on the cusp of graduation. We realised the other day that we had not had a ‘miss’ for several days. Instead- now she is able to- she tells us every time she needs a ‘wee-wee’ or ‘poopey’. Since then we have had a few misses, but she is very aware of when she has gone in her pants or the floor and will proudly point it out to us.

For anyone unaware of what EC is here’s an explanation. By communicating with your baby it is possible (as many traditional societies know) to know when your child needs to go to the toilet. Very young babies will display various signs that they need to eliminate and it is up to the parent to figure out these signs and be aware of them. Then you can take them to the potty or toilet or grass. As they get older and become vocal, babies can begin to tell you when they need to go. By the time they are Nabeela’s age many will be able to toddle off alone to the potty or a bit of grass or tell you so you can take them.

It always makes me smile to see her face when she realises she needs a wee when we are at home. She’ll mention ‘wee-wee’ out loud, wander off to the grass, lift her clothes with an expression of concentration and watch as she does one. This is usually followed by telling me she did a ‘wee-wee on the gwass.’

The things people dump

With a cocoon of heavy clouds wrapped around us all day, the sky threatened stormy weather. When it did finally burst, thunder growled overhead, lightening lit the gloomy sky and stepping outside was akin to having a bucket thrown over you. So, where is this supposed uncomfortably hot weather?

Each time the thunder roared Nabeela looked at me with disconcerted eyes and asked, “Whas that?” in her cute accent. Eventually she was answering herself with the words, “A stooorm!”

Amidst the rain, pelting down on Brucey van and obscuring our vision, I spotted an upturned pram in the middle of a path. Now, we have recently decided that it may be a good idea to get a pram. So Ryan grabbed it and we spent the next few minutes in the rain trying to figure out why someone had dumped it. It is in good condition, apart from the minor problem of being unable to fold it up.

Nabeela is too heavy for me to carry her for long in my arms, so unless she stays in the sling (which she won’t unless she’s napping or feeding) or decides to walk rather than wander off in a different direction, I often find I don’t get very far when I’m doing ‘town stuff’.  So for these occasions we thought about heading to a charity shop for a pram. But it turns out we didn’t need to- as we found one free!

Somehow it feels wrong to admit this. These years of having her close to my heart and able to share in the wonders of life, rather than being relegated to the side-lines (in a pram), leaves me feeling somewhat guilty for now having one! Nabeela doesn’t share these sentiments however- I think because we have never forced her into anything like a pram or high chair- she loves clambering in and considers it a fun toy to play on. So I’m going to have to get used to it!

A Special Day

I’m awed by the fact that it has been two years since I gave birth to our special little girl. All those months have sped by, filled with love and wonder. I am thankful everyday for her, but I made sure I made the extra effort to tell her just how much she has transformed me, today. She may not have understood much of it, but I know she understands those warm feelings and always she enjoys a good hug!

It was a do-whatever-Nabeela-wants-day today. We woke early and after singing Happy Birthday (where she joined in) we asked her what she wanted to do. She may only be two, but already she understands much of what we say and, anyway, we may have given her a few choices to help her out! We ate a cooked breakfast of home-made bread, veg and sausages (don’t fret they were vegan) and she scoffed the sausage, leaving the rest. Typical Nabeela style.

The rest of the day was spent doing our usual fun things, like going to the library, reading and eating. We even went to see an age-appropriate film (all about things we don’t believe in- Christmas and Santa, but it was that or nothing). She slept for most of it and spent the rest of it staring through her lop-sided 3D glasses and looking faintly bemused.

Unfortunately Nabeela has caught a bug of some sort (from a little girl who she adored and has just left the Park) and the rest of the day was spent rushing from potty to Mammy. She is currently asleep in my arms. The heat is emanating off her.

A Brief Immersion in Balinese Culture

The past several days have been spent in a cloud of sticky humidity and scorching heat. In Bali!

We stayed in the tourist melting pot of Kuta. Humid and dirty, its narrow and un-planned streets are dense with stalls and shops brimming with tourist tat. Locals call out to you every few steps, “Yes, looking?”- “You want?” – “T-shirt, boss?” as you negotiate the randomly laid out terrain, ever remodelled and built- upon.

The traffic is never-ending. Taxis, millions of scooters, bicycles, cars, vans, all vie for the limited space on the roads (and, often off them too). Car horns interrupt the general hum of engines often and, as it first appears, indiscriminately. I soon realised that horns were not, as in India, being beeped without reason though. As one local driver put it, “It’s the easiest way to let others know you are there.” This makes sense; however, the one overlaying problem in this is that it is so busy it’s often rather difficulty to distinguish one horn from another!

We didn’t enjoy the over commercialised centre of Bali, but because we were stuck there, we found pleasure in little things instead.

The trip was enlightening for a few reasons. Firstly it provided us with the impetus to learn a second language. I have always wished my Malaysian/Thai heritage would have meant I was bi- or multi-lingual. Sadly this was not the case, as my Grandma never did pass on her mother-tongue to her children.

Ryan learnt Indonesian in school and still remembers several key phrases and words, so what better language to learn? We have a head start, in that Ryan can speak a little and it is virtually indistinguishable from Malaysian, apart from the odd word or phrase, so one day I may be able to speak with my family in Malaysia. Nabeela has taken to the language like a fish to water (she can count to 5 already and was busy shouting ‘terimah kasih- thank you and several greetings to locals throughout our stay).

Speaking of fish, we also spent a huge amount of time in the water. It was so sticky hot that I needed to be wet most of the time, just to keep from melting into a puddle of mush. Nabeela’s confidence in the water increased drastically by the end of the holiday and she is beginning to go through the motions of paddling and actively kicking her legs to travel through the water. Our little fish adored the cool waters of the hotel pool. On our last day in Bali we rustled up the extortionate fee to enter a huge outdoor water park, for Bee’s pleasure. Her excited giggles and beaming smiles made up for the overblown tourist prices.

What made the holiday were the local Balinese. Everywhere we went we were greeted with huge grins and a barrage of curious, but completely innocent questions, about Nabeela and our family. They were awed by our little toddler. Her name is- according to the locals- an Indonesian name, meaning something along the lines of Celebration (how pertinent). This coupled with their love of children and strong family values meant we were made to feel so special and rich for what we have: a beautiful daughter and a happy marriage. So far removed from the typical westerner’s views of family- where families with kids are made to feel excluded from ‘normal’ activities or any hint of fun. The Balinese embrace children (figuratively and literally!) and find their behaviours exactly what they are: normal! No being made to feel uncomfortable if your child breaks something by accident or widdles on the floor. As one man succinctly said, “That OK, children do things like that.”

At all the restaurants where we enjoyed Balinese cuisine, Beela was handed around amongst the staff, cuddled, kissed, prodded (gently) and photographed. She loved being swept away to be the centre of peoples’ attentions and lavish hugs and smiles. Any children that she met she instantly liked, including one little local boy (about six months older than she) who she shared a coy cuddle with, and a kiss!

After being made to feel so welcome, we barely needed to tour the island. Soaking up the way of life of this country was enough for us, particularly on our limited time frame.

We did tour around a little, however. Taxis are very cheap and so we found that flagging one down (usually within seconds of looking) and travelling on the meter was the most comfy, if not the most efficient, way of getting anywhere. Efficiency isn’t really expected in such bustling, narrow-laned chaos. To walk the same distance may take you an equal length of time, however the sun beating you to a sticky glop is usually enough to force a retreat into a cool taxi.

We briefly visited Nusa Dua- a neat tourist resort of little interest to people who like to get away from the familiarities of their home country, but with a calm swimming beach to cool down from the bubbling heat outside. We sat on reserved-for-hotel-guests-only loungers, eating street stall-bought nasi goreng (fried rice) and fresh whole mangoes, dripping sweet nectar over the plastic armchair and washing the stickiness away in the ocean.

On another day we visited Ullu Watu Wat, a temple south of Kuta, perched high up, overlooking the Indian Ocean from the cliff top. There, hugging the cliff-top, we took in rich green views peppered with orange and red blossoms. We looked down on the might of the sea as it crashed continuously against the slowly eroding cliff face, with the temple stood watch above: a silent sentinel and shrine to the Balinese own branch of Hinduism.

What we enjoyed most from our multitude of taxi drives was the ability to sit back and watch the country speed by and listen to the drivers interesting conversations.

One time, as Nabeela perched sleeping on my own knee I watched as a family sped past on their scooter. A baby of around Beela’s age sandwiched and also asleep, between mother and father was oblivious to the heat, fumes and clamour around her.

An old man, reminding me so much of my own father (who of course could never be described as an old man!) grumbled on and on about his life. He spoke of his immersion in the tourist market and of the politics that renders him unable to leave.

As he talked I noticed his black hair, sprinkled with white, poking out from under his baseball cap, crinkled eyes portraying the gulf between himself and his grown-up children, the resigned tilt of his head as he told of the necessity of tourism, the curled half-smile as he mentioned the corruption permeating the country. “So many scooters and many accident!” He answered when we asked about the traffic problems, “People don’t even wear helmets.” Though they are supposed to, most tourists get away with a cursory warning and the underhand loss of ten dollars. Corruption in practice.

Another joy in Bali was the food. This may not be much of a surprise to anyone who knows us. For us life does revolve around eating, after all! We began the holiday eating in tourist restaurants, which were fine and still reasonably cheap. But quickly we noticed the small roadside stalls and the unobtrusive cafe’s which locals frequented. We began eating in these instead. Much cheaper than tourist places, they had an expectant and friendly feel to them. The staff often watched us as we tucked into the gloriously rich nasi goreng, fluffy plain white rice, crisp tempeh, fried tofu, sautéed greens and salty garlic sauce- I think they were pleased we had chosen them instead of the typical tourist hang- outs and were impressed by our wish to eat true local cuisine.

We all gorged ourselves on fruit. The juices are sensational. We enjoyed papaya, mango, pineapple and creamy thick avocado on plenty of occasions. My IBS didn’t bother me once and I have put it down to eating mainly cooked food. The amount of fruit we ate should have had me doubled over in bloated belly agony, but I was fine. So I may replicate this diet back home and go back to cooking most of my food. I love the idea of a highly raw diet, but after persevering for several months, my bowels are not allowing me to enjoy it or benefit from it.

Being vegan was no problem in most places, particularly when eating at a local place. We only encountered problems with egg, as it seems to be added to everything, and possibly fish. I am quite sure we unsuspectingly ate these two items on a few occasions, much to our disappointment. There is little to be done though, but move on from it.

I left as an Australian tourist and came back as a fully-fledged Permanent Resident! During our stay in Bali I checked my emails, just to make sure my visa was coming along ok and received the exciting news that my CO had granted me a P100 visa.

Initially my heart sank, as I thought it was only the temporary version and I would have a two year ‘trial’ period before being able to apply for the permanent visa. I was, happily, wrong and he had actually granted me permanent residency! The relief washed over me and (once back in the hotel room, away from curious eyes) I danced my ‘I’m-a-permanent-resident’ jig to Ryan and Nabeela’s raised eye-brows.

Entry back into Australia was somewhat of an anti-climax. My eagerness to get back to my new home was stifled when my expectations were squashed. I don’t quite know what I was expecting- a fan-fare complete with brass band and dancing? That would have been nice! If not that, then at least the customs official could have welcomed me to my new home. Instead she didn’t even mention it, only giving me congratulations when Ryan pointed it out. I do have a stamp in my passport commemorating the momentous occasion, however. That will have to do!

A Belated Introducton

Welcome to the blog. I hope my email ‘fans’ move over to this way of connecting with us from now on. I hope it will be easier all around.

Just a little background embellishment for people who haven’t read my past entries yet. Ever since moving back to the UK with Ozzie husband Ryan in tow we had talked of leaving again in the future- and hopefully before we got sick of it!

During our life in the UK we rented a couple houses (so as not to tie us there too much), had our daughter Nabeela/Bee/Beela (or various other connotations) and made some life-long friends. And I won’t forget the special time we had seeing our niece growing up from a tiny dot into a gorgeous little girl. Ryan also managed to change career direction completely and hopes to use these skills to get a flexible job back in Oz.

So after 4 years in the UK we were thoroughly sick of the weather and our prospects over there. We made a decision to knock down our previous barriers and just get moving.

Actually it may have been that I made the decision, whilst Ryan stalled for time. I distinctly remember saying to him, ‘I don’t care what barriers you throw at this, I am putting my foot down and we are going!’

Whatever I said, it gained the desired outcome and we quickly began arranging the complex and money-draining process of visas, citizenship and dual passports for Bee.

Along with this we had to rid our lives of most material possessions, down to a skeleton of essentials. But most heart-wrenching of all were the goodbyes to our beloved friends and family, including the family dog, Sam, who had been a constant thread in all our lives since we first met.

Armed with only the bags we could carry (or couldn’t carry as we later found) we left, teary eyed and somewhat melancholy, despite the huge adventure that awaited us.

Truthfully it all seemed like a huge anti-climax at first. I missed my family and friends so much that there were moments when, if someone had given me a return ticket back, I would have snatched it out of their hands and been off on the next flight.

After a good month and with familiarity and routine setting in, I only have these days occasionally and the raw pain is somewhat numbed by knowing that we are already having a better life here and that’s after less than two months.

Already we have made friends of a like-minded persuasion with kids; enjoyed the beach life fully, immersing ourselves in the pleasures of the sea; begun living the simple life we always strive for; and done things that I always wished to do, but didn’t (like getting dreads and enjoying a festival).

So our path to simplicity, freedom of our own making and natural living and family values is being trodden and we are all glowing within from it!

Bitter Sweet

From this day onwards sugar will not pass my lips!

At least not much sugar will. I have tried all the different intolerance diets for my IBS symptoms and nothing so far has eased my bloated belly or (sorry to say) excess wind. I’ve given up wheat, gluten, dairy (which I now don’t eat for ethical and environmental reasons), soy and all of the permutations that go with this. Nothing has changed things!

The only thing I have yet to cut out is sugar (or more specifically fructose). Probably for the very reason I should have stopped eating it: I love it and crave it! Anyone who knows me (even in a cursory way) knows I love sweet things and I have managed to push the thought of having to stop eating it from my mind for too many months now.

Finally I am ready to grow up and move on. So I am attempting to limit sugar to two serves of fresh fruit a day and that is pretty much it. No more dried fruit, raw fruity desserts, chocolate (oh, my!) or added honey/agave/maple.

Hopefully when this works (or should I say if?), I will be able to introduce it back into my diet slowly. But never in the amounts I’ve been known to eat it in!

Sticking with the diet changes yarn- we have initiated the last step towards veganism- we are not buying eggs anymore. Not that we are complete vegans- we’re still going to wear wool (second-hand or organic) and use bee products. Unusually it was Ryan who instigated the removal of eggs from our diet, after coming across various bits of information relating to the ethics of eating eggs and the environmental aspects.

The Visa Arrives!

Today we received the news we have wanted since we arrived...my visa is in the process of being granted! The only thing we need to do now is leave Australia. For some reason, to grant the visa you must be out of the country. On the plus side though, you can go to any country you wish- so we’re going to Bali!

Here it is in all its (edited) glory...

Dear Mrs M,

I refer to your current migrant visa application.

The processing of your application has reached the stage where I am in a position to grant your visa.  If your application is granted, you will be required to make an initial entry to Australia before 15 July 2012.  This “initial entry date” is linked to the expiry of your health and character checks and cannot be altered or extended after visa grant.

However, one of the criteria for the grant of this subclass of visa is that you must be outside Australia at the time of grant of visa.

Departmental records show that you are currently in Australia.  Therefore, you will need to leave Australia before I can grant your visa.

Please advise me by email or by facsimile of your intended date of departure from Australia, flight number and country of destination.  It is important that you receive confirmation from me that I have received this information before you travel. If you do not receive confirmation from me, there may have been a problem with the email transmission and you should try to contact me again.

  

In order to ensure that your travel plans have not changed, could you also please reconfirm your travel details - by email or facsimile - the day before you depart Australia.

   

It is important that you provide this office with the requested information within 28 days of the date of this letter. If you do not respond within the given time frame, a decision on your application will be made based on the information contained on your file at that time.

Yours sincerely

Case Officer

After reading this exciting news, Nabeela perched on my knee looking up at me, I began to screech happily, much to Nabeela’s bemusement.

Sadly the next thing I read (on facebook) was the tragic news of my ex-teacher, Mike’s death. I will mention this as my way of thanking him for being a wonderful and interesting teacher and for all the long chats we had after lessons. Thanks Mike for injecting a small amount of your enthusiasm of photography into me and for your kindness.

So with this mixture of wonderful and tragic news I rushed over to Ryan, simultaneously crying and smiling. He was suitably confounded.

Later in the day we stopped in at the travel agents to enquire about the price of a holiday to Bali. We left the shop a couple of grand lighter in the wallet (or more specifically on the credit card) and with wide grins spread across our faces. We’re going to Bali in ten days!

Dreadlocks

The dreadlocks are forming...slowly! It has been nearly a week since D demonstrated the non-chemical laden technique to Ryan, and he began. So far he has completed all but 4 or 5. I have a lot of hair and probably about 50 individual dreads! But after the initial shock- from both the pain to my poor raw scalp and from finding sleep quite uncomfortable with these bulky strands of hair digging in all over, I now love them!

They are settling in nicely now, no more feeling uncomfortable at night and I love that my once wavy hair has been transformed into a frizzy mass of thick strands of rope, sticking out all over- it keeps it away from my neck (which used to cause my considerable aggravation) and I like the way they look!

Lessons in Joy

We have spent the past several days doing little of writable interest, but having lots of fun all the same. We have spent much of our time with the Big Family (as I will re-name them). Because the days have been so hot we have spent much of our time on the beach during the cooler parts of the day or holed up in the big camp kitchen talking about our travels and way of life, comparing notes on Australia and the way we do things or learning new skills.

I have finally learned how to crochet. So I will be busy honing this skill over the months and trying to make bits and pieces for presents. Ryan and I have both learnt how to bake bread. It is something I have always been meaning to do, yet for some reason the idea has never stuck. But now I have seen how easy and cheap it really is (ignoring all those time-consuming, fancy recipes and bread-makers) we will begin at once.

Ryan and I have learnt how to form dread-locks and I am eager to begin them on my hair. It is something I have been considering for quite some time, on and off over the years. Yet I have never gone ahead with it! So we now have the kit and, despite the internal groans I can hear from my family, next time I speak to them I will have a ‘new’ head of hair (hopefully)!

Nabeela has matured so much in the past week. Being able to spend time with un-schooled children of such a diverse range of ages (from nearly three to eight) she has learnt much about an assortment of things. She has watched enthralled as the youngest has been dragged along the beach on a body board, skimming a thin skin of water and squealing with delight, before rolling away into the foam. She has delighted in playing in the park and learning how to successfully climb up the slide and slither back down it. She is slowly learning about crafts and how you tend not to eat everything you see, but instead make things with them (this is an ongoing process and much of the time she still insists on eating all bits of paper or cardboard she gets her hands on). She is assimilating the skills needed for riding a bike and sometime attempts to sit in the saddle. She is stringing together much more sophisticated sentences now and volunteers information more freely than previously.

I am beginning to see the delights in having a tribe of children rather than just a couple!

Salt-Encrusted and Eager

Today I went to the cinema...with Nabeela! Walking up to the cinemas, babe quietly sitting in the sling, I stopped off at the health food shop to pick up some ‘healthy’ treats. I made my way into the cinema, paid for my parent and toddler ticket and realised that I may actually get to watch the film uninterrupted, because Nabeela had fallen to sleep!

I luxuriated in the time I had to watch a meaningless film, eat sweet things and relax. This lasted for about half the film before Beela woke up in a sunny mood. I came prepared with plenty of toys. She wandered the isles clinging happily to her wooden spoon and cup whilst I watched the film (and her out of the corner of my eye). Eventually she came and sat beside me and became enthralled by the big screen begging to be watched. I was slightly disconcerted as the film was not really child friendly, with giant guns glinting and bullets flying all over. I kept imagining Nabeela turning to me, arm raised, shouting ‘bang, bang’! Luckily all of the violence seemed to pass over her head and only the things that she could comprehend made any dent. So she kept turning to me saying various phrases like ‘man running fast’ or ‘big cars’. It was exciting to be able to see a grown-up film with my daughter playing beside me!

Once the film was over and Ryan had finished his cleaning we met up and headed to the library to peruse the shelves and do some research. Ryan’s research was on job and training opportunities and mine was in a similar vein, but surrounded my writing ambitions.

The Writers and Artists Yearbook is a little gem for information and general motivation. Just flicking through to read short sections was enough for me to realise how helpful it will be for my writing prospects. The first article I read was by my (newly realised) favourite author, Terry Pratchett where he made me smile as he usually does!

I slowly accumulated a tottering pile of books and magazines to take home- some for research purposes, others to further my reading and more just for fun.  Later we found that we hadn’t actually taken them with us! Although I’d checked them out, Ryan hadn’t realised I had left them in a pile for him to pick up (I was carrying the heavy toddler) and just walked off leaving my precious collection behind! He is still paying for this error!

Outside the confines of four dingy walls, the day felt calm and the sun shone merrily on all, although it didn’t have that usual Aussie kick to it. To expel some energy and reconnect with ourselves and the earth we headed straight for the sea. I was determined to do a little swimming and so, bracing myself for the cold waters, I ran in and out several times to ease my body into it and finally submerged my entire body. This method seemed to work well- running in up to leg height, then running out. Then running in a little deeper and running back out, until I finally ran back in to be completely submerged. Even if it hadn’t worked, Nabeela found my strange antics highly amusing!

Her laughter and excitement didn’t end there however. She thoroughly enjoyed her sea swimming education. She learnt about how the ocean movements feel on her body as the waves roll in. I modelled the up and down movement whilst she was in my arms and by the end she was calling out ‘up and down’ as she rolled with the waves. She also began kicking her legs and flailing her arms in a jerky and uncoordinated imitation of doggy paddle. Completely unfazed by all of these new feelings and movements, she even had her face splashed several times and still came out grinning. If Ryan is serious about wanting a little ‘surfer chick’ for a daughter I have no doubts he will get his wish!

Back at the caravan park, salt encrusted and on the chilly side, we got into conversation with a newly arrived family of seven. Both parents and their five children seem on first impressions like a lovely family: relaxed, calm and with a very similar lifestyle and views to us. I was so excited about meeting some potential friends that I was reluctant to leave to shower away the salt for fear of missing out or FOMO as I have abbreviated it to! I did (shower) and didn’t (miss out)..! But we will certainly be catching up with them again soon.

Dipping Our Toes In

Nabeela can sing The Wheels on The Bus now- granted it’s a little disjointed and out of tune, but I love hearing her anyway! She likes to make up different things that people do on the bus, for example ‘Reuben on the bus...jumps around’ or as she randomly uttered today ‘Dani on the bus...makes hot chocolate!’ And we have added in actions too.

She is really involved in her imaginative play now and loves involving us in it too. We can often be found sitting on the floor with her, making pretending porridge or soup or coffees, using the ‘big kitchen’ utensils. Its either that or running around the play park just next to us- zooming down the slide, climbing ladders, but always avoiding the swing for some reason (we haven’t figured out why she is frightened of them yet).

Swimming was on the agenda today and we drove to Aldinga beach for this. Aldinga beach is one of the few in the state that you can drive on, which everyone raves about. I am less impressed with this- it feels like sacrilege to bring such man-made beasts onto something so unspoilt and lovely. Plus I don’t see how parking in a carpark just next to the beach and walking a few metres makes that much of a difference really.

The water was gorgeous though! The sand slopes ever so gently to meet the ocean waves and this seemed to have the effect of warmer water than our previous dip at Christies Beach. Furthermore the water was so clear. I could see to the sandy sea bed and managed to spot a tiny fish dart away, which my gigantic feet had disturbed.

Nabeela was vey excited by our little swim. Her innocent face was wide-eyed and a massive grin spread across it for the entire time. She splashed and dove into the water and didn’t once seem overwhelmed, even when we waded in quite deep. In fact she was asking for ‘more swims’ and that initial wave of shock running down her body from the cool water, then the squeal of delight afterwards was something I will treasure. 

Before our little dip at the beach we picnicked in Willunga. I had bussed it over with Nabeela early in the morning to go to a natural parenting group, only to find out that it wasn’t in Willunga but a town 30 odd kilometres away!

I was having a terrible morning without this added to the list too. On the journey over I’d been sick in the wet bag, for an inexplicable reason. So glad we use cloth nappies or it could have been a messy ordeal- how many people carry around a water-proof bag on the off chance they’ll spew?! After fleeing the bus and still feeling rather grim, I stumbled into the nearest cafe (to empty out the sick!) On leaving Nabeela decide to pee all over the floor. As it was running towards the counter I was silently cursing and feeling the glares of the shop assistant on my back. I had asked Beela if she needed a wee in the toilets- apparently she didn’t, until we left them!

A friendly lady in the vegetarian cafe I stopped in at told me about a library sing and rhyme time session, so I went to this instead. Nabeela enjoyed it and i was slightly perplexed by the number of songs I didn’t know or that had a slightly different tune to what I sang as a child. I loved how they began by singing a song about a koala and kangaroos though! Just in case I’d forgotten I was at the other side of the world!

We also browsed in an organic co-op store, which sold nearly everything I could have wanted for a weekly shop, at reasonable prices. We are thinking about joining it and maybe volunteering, to get an extra discount on our weekly shop. It’s run by volunteers after all and they always need new people to help out. It helped that they were all very smiley and friendly too!

Folking Around

Nabeela and I headed to Willunga in the early morning sun. We caught a bus straight through, which was good to find as I think we will be making this trip often from now on. I was all eyes during the journey, because everything is so new I like to take notice of my surroundings.

We drove through some truly terrible areas. One in particular that still strikes me cold was this huge (to me) housing estate, done up with identical houses, show homes, adverts, a shopping complex right next door, manicured gardens and to top it all off- fake grass squares positioned outside each house!

Since coming over to Australia I have been feeling some extremely strong emotions- one moment I will be floating in the clouds with happiness, knowing that we have made such a wonderful decision coming here, the next, I’ll be in a black hole of misery, almost crying out to click my fingers and be back at home, nestled in that familiar nest of family and friends.

The bus journey to Willunga was one full of those negative emotions. After being astonished and shamed by the plastic grass we drove through a hideous shopping complex and onwards towards a wine growing region, brimming with row upon row of neatly ordered vines, desolate from lack of trees and Mother-natures beautiful chaos.

I was having another I-must-go-back-home moment. This country is too Americanised for me. What’s going to happen to the wild bush and scrubland of the real Australia? Why did the English have to come here and rape the land of all its magic and wonder, the land that the Original peoples revered so much?

I feel ashamed of the British for marching in, reducing Aboriginals numbers so drastically and declaring the land theirs, whilst conveniently ignoring the real people who managed quite well before they came along.

All of these questions, emotions and conundrums pop up and swirl around my head frequently at the moment. They strike in particular during moments where I witness capitalism in all its neon glory. For some reason it hits me so much harder in Australia than it did in the UK- maybe because I feel that we robbed this land from people who deserve it so much more. It may also be because all of the issues between Brits and Aboriginals are so new and fresh- like a barely healed wound, I can’t help but see its mark.

Although I won’t forget these things that disgust me about Australia- from its plastic, sickly shopping centres, to the way it ignores its true history, I also realise that it’s not my worry to take on as my own. I can’t up and leave because I feel like the land isn’t mine- we are all just borrowing the land from the Earth and Mother-nature after all. However, I will never forget or ignore these things- they come with the whole package of immigrating to Australia: along with its beautiful face it also has an ugly side, no matter how Australians try to overlook it.  

Bobbing along on the bus all of the above was whirring behind my eyes and tears welled up before I could stop them. But then we arrived...

And I found my Saltburn! Although it is inland, I immediately felt in tune with the place. The busy, little market was brimming with an array of locally grown, organic and healthful food. As I wandered from stall to stall, beneath the glare of the sun I surreptitiously watched others and appraised the little villages ‘feel’. By the time I had scanned through all of the stalls and slowly filled my wheelie-bag with groceries I had decided that I liked being here and around the people that call it home.

Later, waiting for Ryan to join us (after finishing his cleaning), I found an organic, fair-trade vegetarian cafe; noticed an organic cooperative grocers and discovered a natural parenting group! If only it was next to the beach too! Well you can’t have everything, and it is only a ten minute drive away!

Once Ryan arrived with our house-on-wheels we made directly for the Fleurieu Folk Festival. Set within a playing field (or oval, as a true Aussie would say) the festival was a few marquees- ranging in size from small and intimate to large enough to hold a big crowd and keep them warm at night- with a few stalls dotted around and contained within a fringe of temporary homes. We set up camp and left Brucey van to stay cool beneath a stand of shading trees, while we ventured out into the sunlight for a bit of laid back music and tasty veggie fast food.

For the last several days Nabeela has been ill with a ‘green snot cold’ and hand in hand with this has been a developmental milestone and apparently teething. It’s taken us a while to realise, but she seems to get all of these things together every few months (to coincide with growth spurts I’m presuming). So our little girl has been showing a range of overt and difficult emotions recently- from teeth gnashing temper tantrums, to clinging to Mammies legs, to jealous scowls, all the way to ‘running and flying’ joy!

Obviously the confusion of moving and its entailing emotions are affecting these things further, so on the whole, we have been having a very challenging time with Nabeela recently. There always seems to be a delay with Nabeela’s behaviour and challenging times. It happened when we moved in with friends and it’s happened this time around- she seems to be handling the change supremely well and then a few days/weeks later we run into the problems. It’s almost like she’s running on adrenaline at first and when that runs out, then she starts feeling upset by it all. Which I think makes sense- it’s not evolutionarily very intelligent to freak out during the crisis, but you can do so once you’re out of danger!

Needless to say, we had a few challenges during the festival with Nabeela, although mostly we had a wonderful time.

On the positive though, developmentally Nabeela is flying along. She is now singing the songs that we have been repeating over and overt to her. So ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ and ‘Peter Hammers’ are now being echoed back to us several times daily in a cute, half-formed Nabeela voice. She is also getting involved with the actions to songs, particularly ‘Peter Hammers’ at the moment. It still feels weird hearing her little voice, from a distance, forming sentences!

The festival was such fun and we became acquainted with several talented artists- Richard Perso, Daniel Champagne, Lucy Wise and the B’Gollies and the Self Preservation Society. Check them out- they’re all quite different but equally talented musicians/ singers/ songwriters.

We spent far too much money on vego junk food and far too long playing in the kids play park (as Nabeela insisted!) But we did manage to witness some inspiring music, have a little boogie and sing along to songs we came to recognise. My favourite tent above all others was the small intimate young artist’s tent. Most of the musicians were 22 and under and many looked like typical student types, but they all had plenty of fun and played exceptional music. Both Ryan and I were shocked by the talent on display, from people so young and what made it even more exciting was that the festival was so small and un-crowded- all the better to see the musicians personality and energy on stage.

For the first time, Ryan and I also saw a tarot card reader together. She had never done a family reading before, but was up for the challenge (who wouldn’t be if they were getting paid!) Surprisingly she was quite accurate with the things she mentioned and had some interesting and likely pertinent advice for us too! It mainly surrounded the problem of taking on too much at once and not rushing things- which is great really; because it is something we had promised ourselves we wouldn’t do. So the track were tramping at the moment seems to be the right way to go- letting opportunities slowly present themselves, not forcing anything and staying positive to what we want in life.

We ran into some of the same people we had met previously and made an acquaintance with some more people who lived nearby and we would likely meet again. It is odd, but exhilarating to have people we can say hi to by name after only being here for a few weeks. I don’t know if it is the people, place or just our different outlook on life and socialising that has meant we are meeting people much quicker than we did in the UK. I only hope some of them may become as enduring friends as the people back in the UK are!

Living on the Cheap

We spent the day walking, walking, walking- from the van to the other end of town, from shop to shop and then back again. It’s not the most pleasant of walks, there’s no coastline or scenic parklands to linger your eyes over, just roads, vehicles of all permutations and ugly brickwork. The smell is little better- car fumes and occasionally the smell of deep fried foods.

However we ticked some more chores off our list and Ryan now has more of an idea what he can do with his work experience in the UK.

Better still was having confirmation of our free accommodation! For one and a half hours of cleaning the toilet block each day we get to stay in the caravan park for free! We also made a deal with the park owners that we will keep the camp kitchen clean and close it down each night in exchange for free internet. So all we need to pay out at the moment is our groceries each week and any little extras. Hopefully this will see us right for the next several months, while we get on our feet here and find a more permanent home. I think Aldinga is calling!

Pass Me a Fan

Today can be summed up in one word- HOT! I promised I wouldn’t complain about the weather over here- what can get worse than feet deep snow and below freezing temperatures? Apparently the opposite! It reached around 34 degrees Celsius, which once would have been nothing to me, but for some reason my body couldn’t function properly because of it today!

We woke up with the whisper of a warm breeze upon our skin and I thought, ‘Great, a hot day for us to enjoy!’ Then I began to sweat.

We got a bus then a train into Adelaide city centre, which was not uncomfortable, but that may have been because these modes of transport all have air-conditioning! Once we were in the city we ducked under the shade of a tree beside the river Torrens and ate the first part of the picnic we had prepared the previous day.

The day was just beginning to heat up properly and we stupidly began to walk around the town at this very time. Sun high in the sky, hats on and skin covered we began our walk along the river and towards the botanical gardens. It would have been a lovely walk if I hadn’t been so warm! The parks around Adelaide are well manicured (as seems to be the habit in Oz) and the botanical gardens were lush and expertly looked after. I wasn’t necessarily thinking about these things on this walk, however, and as soon as chance allowed I rushed indoors to escape the heat- blissful air-conditioning!

I’m slightly embarrassed by my typically English reaction to some slightly warmer than usual weather. All I can think is that I have acclimatised so well to the UK and its cooler climate that my body has forgotten what its like to live somewhere warm! My only hope is that it will quickly get used to it again and soon 34 degrees will, once again, be the norm and I will actually enjoy it!

Needless to say I spent most of the day fatigued by heat and trying to escape from the sun every chance I got! It didn’t help that Nabeela was insisting on clinging to me for the entire day. Poor bairns still poorly and daddy just wasn’t good enough for her, so sweaty mammy had to manage with a toddler strapped to her back or front for most of the day.

We briefly visited the Art gallery of South Australia (mainly to cool down), but I did receive the spine-tingling thrill of seeing a wondrous work of art for the first time. I’m sad to say that this has never really happened for me before, I can appreciate art and enjoy looking at pretty paintings etc, but I had never really seen a piece that made me stop in my tracks, tears spring into my eyes and a shiver run along my spine. Until now. I don’t even remember who painted it, but it was a large painting and quite old. The artist had captured the ambience of a forest in South Australia, with a mother carrying her child upon her back returning to her tiny camp. The lighting was magical and the glint of a stream peaking between the undergrowth looked alive and dancing. I took a snapshot of the woman with babe on her back to keep in my head.

When we returned to Christies beach, the earth had cooled enough for me to enjoy the delights of the dusk hour- that time between day and night, where families are together, laughter and quiet chatter fills the air and everything is slowing down and feeling lazy. We skipped around barefoot in the sand and sea; skin exposed and breathing freely.

With hindsight, Ryan and I realised that this was where we should have spent the entire day. The beach is much more appropriate for a hot day. Rather than stomping the concrete during the midday sun, we should have been shading beneath a tree beside the beach. Mental note- chill out when it’s hot!

Here We Stay?

After two nights at Moana Beach we idled up to Christie’s Beach, after visiting it the other day when it was too late to go into any shops or do anything worthwhile.

At the Caravan Park here we found out that we can do long term stays for ridiculously cheap, all it means is leaving every six months for a month and then coming back again. So we are considering staying here, in Brucey van, for an extended period while Ryan gets a job to save up for some land or even to travel further and longer. All we will have to do is cruise over to Moana Beach Caravan Park after 6 months and come back again.

We are enjoying it here- the beach is gorgeous, ditto the promenade, and the town has some interesting shops to browse in. Looking at the coast and promenade it appears to be an affluent and modern place, but it’s a township of contrasts and the main shopping street looks quite the opposite- careworn and out-dated. We walked along its entire length, up to the obligatory shopping complex and found several interesting places. There are several charity shops (or Op shops as they call them here), a new-age crystal shop (closed Mondays), an Asian vegan cafe/ grocery shop and a lovely little health food shop. At least we may be able to start eating healthily again- Our diet has been awful since we got here and we have spent so much money eating out. My body is crying out for some real food, that hasn’t been adulterated with excess fats and overcooking.

Food is so expensive here and good food i.e. organic whole foods are ridiculous when compared to the UK. I never expected the price difference of organic foods or the difficulty in finding it. Fruit and vegetables taste so much nicer however. I’m presuming this is because most are from Australia and are much fresher because they haven’t come as far. We have also speculated that organic is so hard to come by, not because farmers don’t farm organically, but because they can’t afford the labelling.

We spent a few hours in the health food shop talking to the lady behind the counter. After getting a coconut creamy tropical smoothie and some raw sweet treats to nibble, we sat down and got talking to her. It was an informative and enjoyable chat spanning a range of topics, from birth to rock bands. It helped us feel more at peace with staying here long term and we also got a contact for Ryan at the nearby hospital – a job may be on the cards there. The more people we connect with the more this place feels ‘right’ for us. Although I still keep getting that itch to explore Australia’s coastline further. I keep getting that little voice in my head saying, ‘Is there somewhere better for us?’ But is that just the human affliction of wanting more, more, more?

Shiny Bright Beach Towns

It was a lovely still morning when we awoke in Aldinga. Ryan drove us over to a reserve, with a community centre, public toilets, children’s play park and fields and we had a nose around it.

I noticed some interesting things (to us anyway), such as some sewing and craft groups and a community veggie garden group that meets regularly. The community centre had a clean and neat looking cafe that sold cheap food and the reserve was lovely- neat and well looked after. If we were to choose to live somewhere a community centre with these types of things would definitely be important to us. Here it seemed obvious from the start that people cared about their area, had a sense of community and have similar interests to us! Great start.

We had already got a sense of the coastline around here driving down to Aldinga. Everything was well maintained with plenty of picnic areas. How I love Australians for their respect of their environment! It is so unlike in the UK, where anything new seems to be graffitied or vandalised before it has been used properly! I am astounded by the number of BBQ’s and picnic benches sprinkled along the coastline- all in pristine condition. So we new the beach was lovely- wide sweeping arcs of white/gold sand and the ocean a fresh blue, rather than the murky blue/black of the typical beaches back home.

After breakfast we took Brucey for a mini tour of the area to find a place to stay the night. We landed on a Caravan Park’s doorstep in the heart of Aldinga and had a friendly chat with the lady there. She gave us a little more information on the area, a handy map and directions for the nearest shopping complex, so that we could do a much needed stock up of essentials. The complex was just another capitalism centre, all concrete, over-seized shops with gaudy advertisements. When we toured around Oz the first time I do not remember these places, but there appears (so far) to be at least one on the fringes of every township. I find them hideous, dead places, but the unfortunate thing is they are often the only place you can go for food or other supplies.

Good did come of the mall however! A troop of friendly faces carrying kids toys and other toddler group staples came in not long after we had arrived. The lady running the place got chatting to us and invited us to stay with Nabeela (although Nabeela didn’t need the invitation!) for a free play and craft session. As Nabeela loves this kind of thing we decided to stay and try to learn more about the area. We eventually got talking to another woman who had joined in later and she knew about the eco-village in Aldinga. Although she didn’t live there herself, she knew people who did. And oddly enough some of those people appeared soon afterwards! We had a good chat with all of them and it gave us such a sense of belonging and happiness. Here were more people with similar ideals and ways of life, right in the middle of a gaudy shopping centre of all places!

We left with a much better sense of what it would be like to live in the area and a strange sense of fitting in. I could see ourselves living here.

Armed with some new found knowledge and some dates for markets, festivals and an open-day at the eco village at the end of the month, we drove back up the coastline to see what else we could find. Without saying it, I think, Ryan and I both knew we could leave Aldinga for later- if we settle there it’d make more sense not to discover everything there is to know about it straight away!

It was late when we finally realised we should find a place to stay, so we pulled into the nearest caravan park- Moana Beach.

Get Us To The Beach

So after spending far too long in the hills, for such beach-dwelling young folk, we decided to get straight on the road, once we had loaded Brucey up and had a last hot drink in the pub. I simplify this- really it took us hours to sort out the van and all of our gear, but when it was finally finished we wasted no more time and left the caravan park to begin our driving adventures.

We couldn’t leave the hills without visiting ‘the big rocking horse’ (apparently the biggest in the world- Australians are so competitive). This rocking horse is the centrepiece to a wooden toy factory, which was what originally caught my eye. There were some beautifully crafted toys and we would have bought some if we had the space or could afford to get them shipped for family and friends. The rocking horse was frighteningly tall and I was stupid enough to climb to the top, alone. After nearly having a heart attack we walked through to a random petting zoo and we all had fun feeding the kangaroos, wallabies, sheep, goats, alpacas and various parrots.

We have realised that Nabeela is another birdy person (like my Ma). She is constantly telling us about birds that she spots and I think she realises now that birds have different names and often looks at us and asks ‘wha’s that?’ It will be lovely for her to have a common interest with her Nanny on the other side of the world.

By the time we had finished at the big rocking horse, it was getting on for dusk, so we piled into Brucey van and drove on, out to the coast. Our first sense of the beach was when I caught a long whiff of it on the breeze- that tangy, fresh smell only found along the coast. The next clue was that ever present sound- the gentle ‘husssshhhh’ of the waves lapping at the shore. It was dark by this time, so we could only make out a hazy grey shadow of the ocean and a lighter shadow of the sand beneath. But it was still the beach, and we had missed it, so we whooped for joy! I’ve only recently realised how much the ocean and coastline means to me, I like the hills and countryside...for a visit, but I could never stay there for good.

We drove around, hugging the coastline, to find a spot to camp the night. It was too late to find a ‘proper’ place, so we settled with a side road and lay down to rest for the night, with the intermittent sound of cars shuttling past to remind us where we were. We were in Aldinga, the place we had found in our research before we left- what would we wake up to find?

Here's Bruce

We decided today would be the day that we would own a campervan and it was...

Introducing...’Brucey Van-ee’- as Nabeela has hilariously named him- a dashing, if a tad greying, old banger, of the 1985 variety. His top pops and he is quite a long fella with lots of mod-cons including a CD player and Air Con! His parents were Mr and Mrs Toyota Hiace and we decided to name him Bruce, being the typical Aussies that we are!

Brucey came from a car yard and cost us 6000 dollars, with 2 months Rego (like Tax and 3^rd party insurance in one) thrown in. We had looked at another van earlier in the day, being sold by a lovely old couple who- in their own words- were ‘just too old for it now’. That van had quite a few issues and didn’t come with the extras that Brucey came with, so we decided to skip making an offer and hopped on a bus back into Adelaide, to look at our- soon to be new- van. 

From the first glimpse of his shiny exterior and neat interior we knew he was the van for us and trying to contain our excitement we quickly whizzed through the rigmarole of bartering, paying and signing all the paperwork. Soon we were driving out of the car yard and our first stop was... a huge baby shop. We needed a car seat of course!

The annoying sales woman informed us that you now need to have car seats bolted to a special metal loop in the floor of the vehicle or nearby and that children under 4 (or 7 she wasn’t sure) must be seated in the back seat of the vehicle. She couldn’t advise us if the seat she recommended would actually fit into the campervan or if it would have a hole for the metal loop to attach, so we just had to pay for it and hope it would work out. Thankfully, after spending hours combing through the van ad reading various instructions we have got it sorted and Nabeela is fine sat in it. It does shatter our dream of all three of us sat in the front singing silly songs and looking ahead, towards the open road and our new life. Instead Nabeela and I are sat apart from each other, and even further from Ryan, with a side-view of everything.

By the time we got back to the caravan park we were exhausted and didn’t have the energy to organise ourselves for our departure the following day.

Bad Mouth Baby

I was transported back to our old life on the road today, when we took a look at a van. The couple who were selling it drove it out to us, which was helpful, but their kindness was unrequited as the van wasn’t any good for our needs. It was the same van that we had used to travel around Australia in all those years ago, which would have been perfect, except they were asking far too much, there was less storage space and there were a few mechanical issues. Anyway, I wasn’t looking forward to driving the beast again!

Now jetlag is but a memory we have been spending our time playing- in one of the two nearby parks, on the grass outside the cabin or inside the pub. The pub has an old set of duplo blocks, still shiny (or is that just because they’re plastic!) and some grubby, synthetic stuffed toys, which Nabeela adores.

We walk into the pub of a morning, first customers of the day (as we are up by 6) and order two hot soy milk drinks, soon after, Nabeela will be pulling on me and demanding that I ‘come mammy’ and ‘play with toys’. So we all sit on the floor of the pub, making daft animals or objects out of blocks and cuddling smelly teddies!

If she isn’t playing, Nabeela will be giving us a running commentary of our day or pointing out various things, such as ‘magpie birdie’ or ‘aireeplane’ or even ‘f**k’ or ‘facker’! No, we haven’t been teaching our daughter to swear, Nabeela just can’t say her ‘trs’ just yet! Even so it is quite funny seeing the looks on nearby strangers faces, when she points and shouts ‘f**k’ in her ringing voice.

The Beginning...

This day arrived faster than I could ever imagine- suddenly it was our last morning in the UK (for a long time), ‘snap’ our last hour, ‘snap’ we were saying those tearful goodbyes and Emily was here to take us to Newcastle airport, ‘snap’ we were on the first plane!

Nabeela was excited about it and also confused, which I was expecting. She has had some unusual few weeks- saying bye to many different people, having a party, meeting new people and then saying bye to them, living in different houses and with several different people and picking up on the stresses and strains that we were feeling. She has held up amazingly well when I think about it.

By the time our first plane touched down in Heathrow Nabeela was shouting ‘fun!’ and bouncing around happily. Initially getting up to board the plane I had let her see and feel my fear and she had reacted vocally to this saying, ‘frightened’, but I quickly pushed those feelings deep down (who says bottling it up is bad!?) and Nabeela relaxed instantly and with wide-eyed excitement she boarded the plane happily, with just a tinge of apprehension, when I let my fears bubble up.

The flights all went as smoothly as could be expected, except for the airline mucking up our meals repeatedly. For one of my vegetarian meals I was served chicken, another we were given cheese and another only one of us was allowed to eat! Malaysia airlines are not acceptable and I would prefer not to fly with them again!

Nabeela slept for the longest flight and was only awake during take-off and landing which she seemed to be quite excited about. The flight to Adelaide was a little more stressful and Nabeela would not sleep, despite it being dark. By the time we came to land she was very agitated from being made to sit still on my knee and became quite vocal about it! The combined mixture of exhaustion and being cooped up in a tin box made her an unhappy little girl and by the time we debarked she was tearful and vibrating with stressed energy. The queue for passports was ridiculous and we wouldn’t have got through it if a staff member hadn’t allowed us to go through early. We were very grateful for this and thought our troubles were over until it came time for picking up our bags!

The carousel happily spat out Nabeela’s bag and my own, and we waited patiently for Ryan’s to meander around. By the time there were just two lonely looking bags left, riding aimlessly around and around we had a feeling that Ryan’s probably wasn’t coming out too.

This meant we were standing around for another couple hours waiting for a staff member to be ready to see to us and sort out the problem. Thankfully Nabeela had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep in the sling, so at least we didn’t have to worry about her! Ryan’s bag was still in London according to the woman he spoke to, who helpfully gave us some money for our troubles and promised the bag would be with us by the following day (which it was!)

Our problems weren’t over yet, despite being so fatigued we could barely stand we had to find our way into the city centre and back out again, on our way to Cudlee Creek. We paid the exorbitant price for a taxi into the CBD and had a relaxed, but expensive breakfast. Our next hurdle was to find a bus (or several) to Cudlee Creek.

After numerous conflicting directions and a several hour wait we found ourselves on a bus to Tea Tree Plaza, where we had to get another bus on to our accommodation. This bus was a little local one and my travel sickness has popped its ugly head up again since getting on it a few times!

Cudlee Creek is a rustic and somewhat aging park, with large gum trees interspersed between pretty bush-land and open grassy areas. There is a slow moving river running through the park on its way to Adelaide city and the buildings have all seen better days. It seems to be the height of country-quaint and most people we have met so far have been friendly, if a little stressed.

We have spent the last few days trying to keep up with the jetlag. Many days have been interspersed with random naps, extra long sleeps, 4am wake-ups and 5pm night-times. But we are slowly getting there!

The weather is freezing! Mornings (particularly at 4am when it’s still dark, the birds haven’t even awoken!) are the worst and I have been wearing more than I usually do in the UK. Typical really, I was expecting lovely spring weather and have, instead, been confronted with drizzle, icy-cold nights and frozen toes! We are in the hills, so a move to the coast is in order- when we finally get this van we’re looking for!

So it’s just a van on the cards now. We’re looking at one tomorrow and hopefully we will find ourselves the proud owners of a lovely set of wheels and house combined, soon!