Rich Corinthian Leather

Travelling out of New South Wales, our journey was dotted with picturesque coastal towns. In contrast, on our journey through Queensland, we find ourselves travelling through miles and miles of flat cane fields and farmlands on a never-ending road to nowhere between sporadic destinations. Queensland is VAST! The drive isn’t as interesting so far, but the destinations we stop at are just as beautiful.

The further north we get, the warmer the weather gets, and the more Grey Nomads we encounter. Though, they should be called Red Nomads, due to their rich tanned Corinthian leather skin from excessive sun baking. Stopping at Elliott Heads, we are, by far, the youngest people here. Our beautiful unspoilt backdrops along the NSW coastline have been replaced by row upon row of caravans inhabited by the over-sixties.

It’s not bad. There are no late-night parties or excitable kids at 6.00 a.m. Just peace and quiet and the odd chinwag. Here we met Barry and Cynthia, our overnight neighbours, who begin their migration north every May to spend five months defrosting their weary bones in the warmer regions. Barry was a wealth of travel spot knowledge, being a veteran camper since the 1970s. He knew of everywhere we had been and everywhere we are going. His advice was to “get out there and do it” and to trust the Kombi, because “those things can cross the Simpson desert”. Daph had a quiet “I told you so” moment. Ern will still worry about the capabilities of the Kombi.

Since being on the road, we have been going to bed when it gets dark and waking up with the sunrise, pleasantly awoken by the morning birdsong. Having worked the night shift for seven years and being used to a maximum of five or six hours of daytime sleeping, Daph has a messed-up body clock. Getting nine hours of sleep at night is doing Daph a world of good. But last night was a late one. We didn’t get to bed until 9.00 p.m. because we got recruited by Wendy to attend the evening yoga class.

During a gentle session in the local hall, we were put to shame by the flexibility of the limber retired locals in leotards and cardigans. There are no egotistical yoga groupies here. It was a breath of fresh air.

Yoga for the over-fifties fits right into Daph and Ern’s new pace of life. Daph is feeling young and alive. Ern is aching all over. Though that is most probably from driving the Kombi for the last 1300 kilometres, or from Daph poking him in the back when he’s snoring.

Onwards to 1770.