One of my earliest memories of living in Canberra were trips to Questacon. For years I’d told Errol about it, wanting to take him so badly. I may have talked it up – and thought perhaps it wouldn’t even live up to my own memories – let alone the hype I’d given Errol. Nope. It was as good as childhood me remembered.
We cheated here, I missed a day, so here is another from Questacon in the incredible baby area. I’d consider moving to Canberra solely for this to be honest.
Me and my Florin Fred x
Oh help. Florin, your face. The way your hair stuck up like that while we were in Canberra. Your papa’s lovely locks. The sticks from earlier crawling explorations on your sweater. This was a good day.
On the drive out of Canberra my grandma slipped me $50 and told me to “buy the kids some ice-cream”. I don’t know where she’s been buying her ice-cream, but I think she has been ripped off, ha. Ever obedient we did take her generous gift and on our arrival in the blue mountains bought ice creams for two happy travellers.
In the blue mountains we explored the Jenolen caves and tried our best to stay warm. The cold made Florin docile and cuddly. Errol and I constantly vying for who should get to wear him that outing. Errol won this round.
We parked up on the hill side in an empty carpark and found an incredibly friendly rosella that we all took turns feeding sunflower seeds from our trail mix.
One part of our journey south and back has been being welcomed into homes of friends and new friends. In the Blue Moutains we stayed with the lovely Debbie Fear. She welcomed us with a warm fire and gave up their own bed for us and as I lay tucked into someone else’s bed in a town we’d never stayed in I was reminded again how kind and good people actually are, even if the internet sometimes gets me thinking otherwise. The sad part is always saying goodbye and in the morning before we’d even had time to properly enjoy Debbie’s company,we were off.
On the lake which sat beside the home I grew up in, a milky dream this morning, Lake Macquarie.
Perhaps subconsciously (or perhaps with meaningful intention) a lot of our road trip to Adelaide has retraced fond memories from my childhood. The trip began visiting old friends who have my heart and we come home visiting more of them.
We find ourselves this day with one of my childhood friends exploring the Watagans National Park where my family would drive on Sunday’s and have morning picnics like our own version of “church”.
The fleeting nature of my time with these little people made ever so apparent when I am standing in the same places where I remember being little myself. Where we played hide and go seek behind old pines and my mum would invite our friends to join us now I am standing calling my own tribe back for picnic lunch. It’s comforting and sad and wonderful all at once.