Bugger!
Here we are in Jurien Bay on the very first day of our trip; and the caravan travelled all the way along the Indian Ocean Drive just like a Cadillac; solid as a rock.
At last I thought, a grey nomad in a caravan! Getting my own back! a grey nomad proclaiming “breaker! breaker! We’ve got a convoy!
But I jest.
All the silly young ones behind me didn’t chance passing, even on the overtaking lane. ( the old bloke in the caddy was doing just over a ton on the inside lane.
However, we are only 220 clicks up the road because at 9.30 this morning after attaching the myriad of shackles and wires I must’ve jack-knifed the van backing up and severely cut the electric cables.
What a bugger!
But, the RAC to the rescue and after a torturous 2 hours the mechanic in blue declared we were ready to go (and how jealous he was and how he wished it was he)
Our dinner of Isabel’s fabulous meat pies with mash and veg went down a treat after a quick sojourn to the beach at sunset. Just after 8 and our brass band tracks are playing thru the speakers and not interfering with a caravan park full of young families — who appeared to have all fallen asleep.
So early!

 

Once you have viewed Western Australia’s  north-west motel accommodation sites, you determine that to tour the top-end, your own top of the range caravan is what you require to traverse the Pilbara and Kimberley regions of WA.

So, with a little reluctance and foreboding you hesitantly enter the arena of ‘whiteys’  old folk caravanning excellence;  Jayco, George Day, eBay or Gumtree; take your pick!

Now I must admit we could have ended up in a Jayco Penquin (cheap arse-end of the caravaners’ nirvana!) for the sales rep insisted upon sitting in this Antarctic bird-trap flyscreened boxcar, bitching about whitey caravan buyers. Alas for Jayco, Henry the mustachio’d  laconic kiwi salesman at the George Day camp saved us from the schlemiel boxcar salesman and we soon had the bells and whistles of a New Age.

     

However, ‘New Age’ has become an euphemism for the dreaded ‘W ‘ word in catering—don’t let on it is a wedding you are planning the catering for—. The dawn of a new age of wallet letting has begun. Handing over of the newly purchased George Day caravan is soon hand-balled to a brusque non-descript, who effectively undoes the brilliance of Henry the salesman and quickly handballs us to Geoffrey the tractor driving yardman/handyman.

 

Geoffrey is a top flight bloke; largely beset by the George Day employed brusque non-descript, who by now has completely abandoned the wallet letting whiteys to their handover nightmare. Nice yardman Geoffrey advises we need to add a Hayman Reese set of sway bars and levelling kit for the sprightly Falcon with its measly 70k on the speedo . Tally to date: over 50 grand, $740 for levelling kit, $1560 for electric brakes and new tow bar on the car, a days wait for the new birth and the new age spending clock has begun ticking.

Blow the cost, let’s head for Mandurah as a shake down weekend away. Lovely caravan park, terrific weekend and idyllic conditions for the local ducks who enjoyed the copious water leak spewing from the brass hose connections to the new age van. Then back home to find an oil like leak spewing from the brand new caravan wheels. After only one week, off to the warranty repairer and (with hand firmly holding the wallet) quietly ask for a price on a rear view camera on the van along with the installation of a gas bayonet for the humble BBQ.

Answer: keep the new age wallet closed and shop around.