The Magic of the Nullabor

I've been driving, with my little family, through the nether-regions of Australia over the past few days on our 100 day adventure around the country.
I've discovered, as we've travelled, that the Nullabor Plain is the world's largest limestone (Karst) slab, and that beneath the scrubby plain itself are hundreds of kilometres of cave systems and subterranean caverns. There are Wedge-tailed Eagles, road trains aplenty and small, friendly trees dotted here and there.

It's a delightfully interesting part of our country and I'm feeling grateful for the chance to traverse it one kilometre at a time.

As I've come further West the skies have widened and the land has flattened. It's like I'm a marble rolling through a giant dish - nothing to stop me, going with the flow, just showing up on the road, one day at a time (see Sarah Wilson's post for more on this idea).
Each morning I've woken early, sometimes with the girls hot on my heals, sometimes alone, and continued my yoga practice as the sun rises. Thanks to the Women's Wellness Weekend I attended recently my daily practise is much more consistent and my body is thanking me for this. And I'm finding that travel, and camping in particular, are good matches for a morning yoga routine - I don't need a room or a hall, I just roll out my mat on the sand or grass or soil, face it to the East and begin my work.

This has been the Nullabor for me.

Xx

Living outside the box

That's what I'm doing at the moment. As you know I've taken myself and my family out of our house, out of our town and out of our state to travel for 100 days around Australia. But this is more than just a holiday for me, more than lovely family time together - it's an opportunity to stretch myself beyond my comfort zones and really live outside of the box.

This Easter weekend we're driving 2700km across the vast Nullabor Plain from Adelaide to Perth. That thought alone and the unknowing of what awaits me on this trip is enough to bring out my vulnerability. However last night I then locked our keys in the car after a misunderstanding with my darling partner while we were on a short stop in a small town north of Adelaide. My vulnerability grew stronger.

We worked for two hours on the car, the keys in sight on the box of homeschooling books in the back seat, trying to press the button to open the doors with a piece of fencing wire inserted down into the window seal. The girls played in the dirt in front of a house as the afternoon turned into evening. Bethany soiled her nappy. The wipes and clean nappies were in the car. Then it was completely dark and I was feeling desperation start to rise.

So I turned it around...

I imagined everything working out. I imagined us getting into the car, relieved that it had worked out. I imagined us continuing our drive north and happily setting up camp in the dark. I imagined the girls going to sleep peacefully in the car as we drove. Still the car was locked, but the imagining helped. I embraced that old vulnerability of mine and transformed it using my imagination into a possible future - like consciously creating what I wanted at the time.

Not long afterwards a tow truck pulled up next to Ian, who was still trying to press the buttons with the wire, and after a quick conversation came back with his van full of tools. In 10 minutes our car was beautifully open and and that future I imagined started to manifest. It was a lovely moment as I realised this.

Then, after trying to pay the kind mechanic, I found out that he'd come as a favour to his friend - whose house we were outside and we'd spoken to briefly a couple of hours earlier. It was both of these kind strangers who helped turn our evening from disaster to a consciously created wonder and I left feeling that my vulnerability had transformed into awe.

But the greatest thing about it all?

Both vulnerability and awe felt the same - both raw, both big, both plundering the depths of my heart.

It was a day of whole-of-heart living - outside the box and outside of my comfort zone. And I'll be back for more of this out of the box living you know, 'cause it cleans me out, mucks out those smaller emotions and let's me feel perspective. And that's precious.

When did you last have a day of living outside the box Mamas?

Miss Bethany turns two

Our baby Bethany turned two today, celebrated by a full moon and a full lunar eclipse. Two years ago we welcomed Bethany - four and a half years after Rosie joined our family. Doctor Angela ensured a safe delivery in Mount Beauty and we were, as we are today, very happy and satisfied parents.

We celebrated Bethany's second birthday today by packing up in the west end of Kangaroo Island and moving our camp to Antechamber Bay, in the far east of the Island. Along the way we visited Raptor Domain and watched a bird of prey show where Rosie held an Australian Kestrel. 

Now we sit near the beach in the full moonlight, birthday cake gone and presents for a two year old opened. We hear the waves crashing on the shore and wonder what the next twelve months will hold for our little girl....

The isle of kangaroos

Our first view of Remarkable Rocks

Our journey around the Great Southern Land has brought us to Kangaroo Island, off the South Australian coast, this week. 

We are camped in Flinders Chase National Park, at the Western, more rugged end of the Island. 

First explored by Frenchman Nicolas Baudin, who at once introduced pigs (now feral) and chickens, Kangaroo Island was the site of the first 'free settlement' in Southern Australia. Today there are many old stone houses dating back to that era.

This is an island of extremes in some ways - an expanding tourism effort has the main attractions set up for international visitors in tour buses while the wild, relatively untouched coastal cliffs are not far away. I'm struck, as I always am, by the irony of this necessity.

As campers we are relatively free to do as we please, go where we like an enjoy the 'free' parts of this island. And we're having a good time.

Today we visited Remarkable Rocks - granite boulders atop a lower granite outcrop jutting in the southern ocean. Rosie played hide-and-seek with her grandparents among these metamorphosed beauties. 

We've spent several hours in the national park visitors centre looking at local animal skins, learning about Australian megafauna and discovering the genetic differences of the animal species on Kangaroo Island when compared to the mainland (generally species here are smaller, if you're interested).

And oh, the discussions Rosie and I have had - about paleontology, animal extinctions, introduced species, aboriginal culture, geology and ecology. It's a veritable gold mine of educational opportunities.

More of this to come to be sure. Xx

Ian trying his luck at Remarkable Rocks

At Admiration Arch - cold and windy.

Lunch at Cape de Couedic lighthouse

One cool Mama

One cool Rosie xx

Birds of a feather

At the time of writing this post we are camped in the Grampians in Western Victoria. It's been a wet camp, with ongoing drizzle marked by patches of fog. It's the first rain here in five months we've been told.

We are at the beginning of our 100 day journey around much of Australia (#100daysaroundaustralia - is the hashtag I've made if you want to follow my photos on Instagram). It's been our dream, as a couple, to slow travel, to journey for an extended time, to find ourselves on the road with our family. And it feels lovely, just lovely, to be here now. Just us. A long road stretching ahead.

Our activities over our few days here in the Grampians have involved lots of bird watching, and a few outings in the rain to short walking tracks and waterfalls. And, if I'm honest, to fuel my caffeine addiction in Halls Gap when I could fit it in.

Rosie has been enamoured with our binoculars on and off for a number of years now, occasionally looking for birds from our home in Mount Beauty, and sometimes carrying them around 'like a real explorer'. And so they were one of the first things I packed, hoping they will form a cornerstone of our homeschooling while we travel.

With delight, this Mama has been rewarded very quickly with glimpses of the Rosie who loves to observe nature, who loves living things and who wants to involve others in her discoveries.

It's a particularly sweet reward for me because much of my childhood, as I remember it, involved watching birds, studying bird books and filling in self-created 'Bird Observation Record Sheets'.

I LOVE that Rosie shares this passion and am gently, gently encouraging this love of her's and mine.

Xx

A bush adventure

This week we packed up our wonderful camper trailer, loaded up our adventure-mobile and set off for a mini-holiday camping in the Mitta valley. 

It wasn't far from home, and we spent only three days away, but somehow it felt much more refreshing than that. 

We swam. We walked. We painted pictures. We made a map of the camp. We homeschooled (travelschooled really) around our tent, in the campground and on our little camping table. We visited Dartmouth Dam and went for a kayak. We cooked bread and curried sausages on a campfire.

In the middle of all this Bethany fell off a camping chair and broke her collar bone, poor little mite. But you know, she's quite fine with it. We tied on a sling, gave lots of cuddles when it hurt, and she continued to play like it never happened. Amazing.

*sigh* such a lovely family time....

And so simple too. I'd forgotten what's it's like to camp in the bush without amenities, without the prompts of the media or the call of advertising. Without wants, and so it seems without needs also. We were quite content. And looking even forward even more to our trip around Australia in April.

I definitely recommend taking the risk and submersing yourself in the nothingness of a bush experience. At the very least you'll have a greater appreciation for home when you get back. At best you'll find an easy stillness within your family, a pulling-together and closeness.

May you share a bush adventure with your lovelies soon.

X x

Food from the garden to take camping...

Mallacoota: a place for reflection

It's in lovely Mallacoota that this Mama finds herself these few days. After a drive of many hours and an overnight stop in Bairnsdale we arrived, excited, in this place of reflection.
All around our camper trailer are the reflections of beach houses, emerald green hills and gently bobbing boats. If we venture further afield we find emotions reflected in the boil of the stormy ocean, the serene waters of the top lake and the aerial mastery of pelicans.
It's a place for looking forward and looking back.
Yesterday, as this Mama took an early morning walk along the boardwalk at the lake's edge, thoughts turned to past times here. Years and years of family holidays were spent in this delightful part of the world. Back in those days there was Nan and Pa helping to look after us, taking us on their boat and fishing with us. Our cousins would sometimes come too and family felt much closer. It is not melancholy that Mallacoota inspires, but rather gratitude for those special times that this Mama holds in her heart. And hope, too, that these few days here will be a part of my girls' special holiday memories as they grow.

Time for reflection

End-of-holiday reflection that is. Our last few days in Tassie were a mixture of beach play, exploratory walks and a big road trip to pick up Nana and Pop. It seems to me that the end of a trip, particularly a longer one, is a time of great reflection. I look back and think about the things we've done together since leaving home - the good things and the average things. And then I find myself looking forward - to the next period of time and especially to the next big trip.
Today Rosie and I plotted our next family trip around Australia onto a map - planned for next year. We look forward to desert adventures, seeing crocodiles and visiting cousin Elsa's house. I look forward to a longer trip away (at least 3 months, hopefully 5-6 months) where we can grow together more as a family. For travelling with family is such a great way to build relationships and a positive family culture of learning and exploring.
As I look back over this trip I see with joy how Rosie has become very comfortable making new friends. Over the last few days I have watched her make friends quickly and easily in new places and situations. I've seen her overcome some long-standing discomforts for the first time and seeen her writing and reading really blossom.
This is the beauty of travelling with kids for me. This is slow travel working its magic. Here's to the next trip, and the ones to come after.

Slow travel in Sleepy Bay

"Speed limited by lifestyle choice" said the sign on the large campervan we parked next to at the beautiful Sleepy Bay in Freycinet NP. It was a statement that made me curious because I've been pondering the concept of slow travel lately as we've relaxed into our camping in Tasmania.
So many people we've met on this trip and on other trips in the past seem to be in a hurry to see as much as possible in the shortest time. And it seemed to me, when I was a child and even older, that this was how holidays were. In fact I didn't really contemplate any other way of doing travel until much later.
But slow travel is my way now. When we travel slowly we become more intimate with our surroundings. And when these surroundings are natural and pristine we feel a deep connectedness to the Earth and to ourselves. Our lives align themselves with our natural rhythms. When we travel slowly we get to know people better, both locals and fellow travellers.
And when we travel slowly we get to experience the culture of the place we're visiting in a much deeper way. In a way that only grows with time. This is the real value of travelling slowly.
And so the sign on the campervan was curious - do these fellow travellers go slow in their van as a way of fitting in with their slow travelling lifestyle?
We did our own slow travelling, by kayak this time, in Sleepy Bay on the east coast of Freycinet. To say that this was the best kayaking I've done is an understatement. It was pristine. There was a gentle swell. There were dolphins and sea caves. And no one else was there. Heaven. Definitely a slow travelling day.
I like this way of thinking - it's outside the square (unless you're a grey nomad) which suits us, but it also just feels right. Hmmm...more thoughts to come here .