Christmas 2021 – isn’t that imaginative…
The end of the year is always a time for reflection of some sort. This year is no exception. The time starts when I get in the car at about 4.45am to drive to Bundaberg to see my parents whom I have not seen for several months.
It’s been a challenging year, more so I think than 2020 was. It’s challenged on many levels and I am certainly tired, let alone weary. So, I mosey up the highway – the most direct route – because on this trip it is most appropriate. The drive is peaceful with few other vehicles the whole way, until you get north of Maryborough where there are roadworks but even then the amount of traffic is nothing compared to that going north, as I am travelling south some days later.
I don’t do the big Christmas thing. I am quite bah humbug. It is a time of friendship rather than festivity. I enjoy this on the trip up and the trip back, with dear friends. Back to the story…the country is wonderfully green and glorious in its idleness having been deluged with refreshment over the recent weeks. Nowhere is it brown or dying from lack of sustenance. It is going the other way – being too sodden to absorb any more life giving rain. It is so nice to see the luxuriousness of the green that comes from the rain, the life it gives, the happy cows munching on the rapidly growing grasses that you can hear and see growing because of the rate that everything is growing at, including the weeds.
3 nights are spent in Bundaberg, a little moseying around, backroads through to Burnett Heads, and a little time just being. It is really lovely to just spend time, not doing anything, not having to be anywhere.
A little grocery shopping sees me ready for 3 nights of camping in a location which is out of range, except for the barest skerrick of coverage if you hold your tongue right, put your foot here and look there. I chase and evade the rain on the trip from Bundaberg to Imbil then up to the property I am staying at which is 10 minutes from Lake Boroumba and about 15 from Imbil – the village. It is tranquillity and serenity and all those descriptive words. The grass was slashed on Christmas Eve but is growing so quickly it should be slashed again. I continue to play evade the rain and am fortunate to set up whilst there is a break in the weather. It does become tedious that rain stuff, showers coming through, wind playing with it and sending it in every direction at once so that you can be sitting in the middle of your 3m by 3m gazebo and still receiving the lovely refreshment of drizzled rain as it swirls around.
There’s all sorts of thinking you do when in places like this, and absolutely none if you give yourself up to the space and pace and just watch the cows across the road or be fortunate enough to see the evasive wallabies (and there were about 3 of them in total) bounce through, one having watched me set up without my being aware of the scrutiny. It has been a strange trip down at times because where I had put my pillow, the pillow case kind of looked like my dog Zana looking through from the backseat at where she was travelling to – logically I knew it couldn’t be but several times I felt this way, the mind is curious.
The sound of peacocks braying (and yes I know that is the word associated with donkeys but look up the meaning and it fits) is not one I have heard for many years and takes me back to childhood when we used to travel from Brisbane to Woodstock for Christmas, and we would hear the resident peacock telling the world about his story. There are several on this trip, off in the distance, having a chat from time to time. The cockatoos and the magpies also have their discussions, the beautiful warble of the magpie is an amazing sound.
The sky plays a game of chase, never ending, the rain clouds hiding the brilliant azure sky. It shows itself sporadically and never for a full day nor many hours due to this game that is being played and the cyclonic conditions that are building further north. The insects of the afternoon and morning also keep company, at least it is not raining when they are chattering up a storm. There is a freshness in the air, one I am not prepared for as I didn’t think it would be 17 degrees at night whilst I was away so when I snuggle in my sway I have a sheet, airplane blanket, towel and the hammock fabric as my insulation and it works well, keeping me comfortably toasty. They are very early nights while away, it is an interesting change of pace and total absorption into that change, going to bed at barely 6.30/7, with daylight around but sprinkling showers and chill air, to lie and read stories that take you away and fall asleep comfortably ensconced.
Read a couple of heavy but good books and pick up a third, during the time I am camped. I consider whether I have become jaded by my work, or whether it is simply that you need to really pay attention to how you look after yourself and what you do to look after yourself. I think we are all naïve when we go into a profession like mine – whether we realise it or not – and you become hardened over time.
There is nothing like civilised wine and cheese in the afternoon, sitting and in the patches of sunshine, not realising the intensity of the UV, managing to get sunburnt legs because you weren’t paying attention, so engrossed in your book. Thankfully it is not too bad, just a nuisance when you scratch your leg and wake yourself up. What is most frustrating is the showery rainy stuff and having to pack up a damp collection of gear to stuff it in the car to move to the location of New Years Eve, where you set up under a beautiful big fig? tree, somewhat protected from the rain but in an area which becomes mud because you have to move around and walk through it. It is beautiful in its location, and overnight due to the intensity of the rain, the swag becomes wet and the bottom corner of the mattress a little sodden – pretty impressive effort all that rain.
Before heading to Cooroy, I have moseyed to Boroumba Dam, watching some early morning boaters out, and deciding never to camp at the nearby camp sit nor the Deer Farm due to the volume of people – it really is nice not to have to talk to others, or deal with them sometimes. What was absolutely lovely, was talking to some complete strangers whilst having a coffee in Imbil, sitting at the rotunda to have breakfast bought at the Bakery (and a good one it is too), talking with guys I will likely never meet again, about motorbiking and travelling and camping and anything but the current fascination with covid. It was an absolutely wonderful hour or so just passing time of day, watching the pooches people were travelling with going for a stroll whilst chatting. This was truly one of life’s simple pleasures.
New Years Eve was actually seen in this year. It was done with beautiful friends and new acquaintances, with fabulous food and a little alcohol. It was, even with all of the rain and associated discomfort, a fantastic place to be. These are the things that remind you that life is good.
So, having now crawled into 2022, I guess it is necessary to give this year a good go, get up to adventures, see more of the country and make sure the swag is aired and dried ready for new and different camping locations, re-new the passport in the hope that borders might open and allow for international travel even if ours is simply across the ditch to a lovely little island country I have briefly visited before. It is time to make sure there is laughter and good times, pace rather than speed, living rather than existing. Hopefully, the words will flow more readily this year and there will be more posts about everything and nothing, stuff and life. Here’s cheers to a whole new year of whatever you choose to make it.
