Time. It is constant, yet changes based on perspective. Recently, a stranger noted that you dont realise how quickly time passes unless you have children. I dont necessarily agree that you must have children to feel the effects of time, but they are useful measuring sticks. The passage of time can be acutely felt when you havent seen your friends for a couple of years and, what feels like overnight, they go from being parents of a toddler to a fully formed small person. It is then you realise how much time you have missed. And just how important the moments that we get to spend together really are. The past few years have really highlighted this for me, and so many others, so what started with a crumb of a possibility deep into the first Covid lockdown quickly turned into 18 months of planning and preparing for an unexpected Australian adventure.
Mark and I had always talked about how, when we had children, we would continue to travel as we did without them because, as we so arrogantly noted, it can be done – it just takes a little more effort. Agh, childless Mark and Emma – what optimists
they were! Aside from a trip to Vanuatu when Annalise was six months old, there hasnt been a whole lot of exploring in our household over the past five years – mainly local holidays to family friendly destinations. Which is what made the idea of spending six months in a pop top camper gallivanting around the country with my little family even more appealing.
After a slight Covid related delay at the start of our trip, a pivot on our plans, and a generous offer to ride out the isolation at Marks fathers house, we packed our lives up, put on the out of office, and hit the road. The first couple of weeks were dedicated to traveling up the east coast, from Lake Macquarie to the Gold Coast, spending time with family and friends. A quick stop at Bluesfest was all the confirmation that we needed that some semblance of our previous lives was within reach. Like most things with children, we just needed to adjust our expectations to fully enjoy the experience. Instead of moving from stage to stage as we normally would, we set up in front of the main stage and big screen while
Mark and I individually went to the other stages to listen to the music. Once the sun went down, we took turns as one person stayed at the camper listening to the music from afar while the other was able to fully immerse themselves in the festival.
The festival itself is a testament to the resilience of that has recently been devastated by floods, before that Covid, before that bushfire. Each stage blasting of great music, messages of strength and (given the current phase of the election cycle) Although The Waifs were down one sister (who is also their killer harmonica player) they were able to crack out a great set relatively seamlessly. The smooth sounds of Fat Freddys Drop was all Ewan needed to get into the groove and John Butlers beautiful rendition of Losing You moved me like all good live music has the ability to do. Then there are all the little gems you catch when you wander to a stage with little idea of who is playing. This is probably my favourite thing about Bluesfest - the quality of the musicians is absolutely second to none. I managed to
catch Ray Beatle who was one of my favourites, while Mark raved about Kingfish Ingram whose delta blues sounds drew him away from Crowed House.
The days that followed were spent at Sea World and visiting more family so when we finally left a rainy Brisbane we were ready for the adventure to really begin. Our first stop was a sopping overnight camp in Injune before heading to Carnarvon National Park. Our original plan was to camp on park at Mount Moffit, however the information centre at Injune advised that the road was ‘sticky and to steer clear. Another pivot and we ended up at Carnarvon Gorge section, staying by chance at Sandstone Park, gobsmacked by the glorious outlook of the park.
