Well-Oiled Machine

Only just made it to a place called Seaspray.

Limped into a caravan park for the night. The poor girl has been coughing and spluttering, misfiring, and backfiring for half of this leg. Not sure whether it’s the crap fuel we’ve put in (only once because country towns have no need for premium fuel apparently) or something else.

Any ideas before we ring our friendly mechanic back on the coast? Can we still drive her? Are we likely to blow up along the way? Or is it best to leave her where she is and carry on by foot?

***

I’m feeling like we need a light-hearted post to distract us all from the engine troubles. This post shall be entitled “Well-Oiled Machine.” A tongue-in-cheek reference to the Kombi (which seems to have settled as we plod along at a comfortable seventy kilometres an hour on the M1[1] to the VW Performance Centre, being overtaken by cyclists and kids on skateboards), but mainly in reference to our perfect partnership and how well we work together as a team:

POSITIVITY:

Ern pulls into a side street, engine spluttering, furrowed brow, chewing his bottom lip…

Daph: “What on Earth are you doing?!”

Ern: “We’re struggling! I don’t know what to do!”

Daph: “Well we can’t stop here! Keep going. She’ll be right[2].”

Ern: “I f**king love you.”

Daph is unsure if these are Ern’s dying words or if he is genuinely appreciative of the gee-up.

TEAMWORK:

Daph is cooking up a delicious beef stew and mashed potato in the Kombi kitchen, straight out of a Heinz can and a Deb packet. Ern is making friends with passers-by who love the Kombi.

Daph is hanging out the washing on the makeshift octopus strap washing line. Ern is making friends with the neighbour who wants to borrow our hammer.

Daph is folding the washing and packing up the bed. Ern is making friends in the office, borrowing the phone to ring the mechanic.

Daph is navigating poorly, looking pretty with the wind blowing in her bed hair, whilst updating her Facebook family. Ern is always driving.

“Where now, Babe?”

THOUGHTFULNESS:

Ern: “I’m going to stay awake until you fall asleep, so my snoring doesn’t bother you.”

Daph snuggles in and drifts off. Five, four, three, two…

“BBBBRRRROAR!”

Ern is fast asleep, snoring like a steam train. Daph carefully picks up her pillow and rearranges herself into a top-to-toe sleeping position, attempting to put as much distance between her ears and Ern’s snoring, which is amplified tenfold by the Kombi acoustics.

Next morning:

Ern: “Did you sleep OK?”

Daph is hanging off the bottom end of the bed, pillows lost somewhere during the nights fidgeting, disorientated from waking up looking at Ern’s feet.

Daph: “Not the best night’s sleep.”

Ern: “Second best?”

OPTIMISM:

Driving along the M1, minimal coughs and splutters, unsure of what the day will bring, wind in our hair, sun on our faces.

Ern: “I f**king love you. Not just a little bit. Like a shit tonne.”

Daph: “I f**king love you too.”

[1] The M1 is the main motorway on the east side of Australia and is not the best kept road in the world. [2] An Australian saying that generally means that whatever is wrong will eventually right itself.