On a bicycle made for two...

Spending our final hours of 2018 in Melbourne watching the fireworks and soaking up the atmos made for an amazing end to the year. Cramping into the suburbs had been a piece of cake, we even managed to fuel up at $1.09 (£0.58!) our cheapest fuel price of the trip. Our picnic blanket spot, nestled between everyone else’s on the banks of the bay in WIlliamstown, a vantage point for the city skyline, was the ideal place to watch the fireworks. However, driving back out in early hours of the morning, along with the gazillion other people, wasn’t so amazing. Having said that, the great advantage of driving your home around is that if after 45 minutes of slow moving traffic you decided you’ve had enough, you can pull in, get in the back and comfortably go to sleep where you’ve parked. That’s what we did. After what felt like hours, the engines from the passing traffic trying the leave the city still hadn’t stopped. We both lay there, illuminated by the headlights of each passing vehi

Getting back into the daily routine of Crampervan living wasn’t going to be easy after a whole month of house living luxury. (Where had the time gone!?) Over our month of not touring, L and I had become used to having the space to spread about our small amount of possessions and unsurprisingly we’d also become used to the convenience of not needing to pack away our bed each day. On the subject of Manchester (the bizarre Australian term for bed linen, curtains, cushions and I’m not sure what else)… I was woken up in the early hours of our first night back on the road, by a loud noise coming from outside the Crampervan. A couple who’d not been parked next to us when we’d gone to bed, had rocked up late and began vigorously foot pumping their airbed! The resulting noise was not so easily identifiable in a semi conscious state which lead to mild confusion on my part, resulting in poor L being prodded awake due to my worrying that strange creatures were outside the van trying to