When I was a kid, my family went on daytrips all the time. We drove to Marysville to see the Autumn leaves and Steavenson Falls. We drove to Mangalore every Easter Sunday to park in a dirt road behind the airport and watch the air show from a distance. We drove up to Toolangi and along the back roads into Healesville of an afternoon, just because.
One of my earliest memories is of being in the back seat of the car with my favourite doll, watching raindrops hit the window as we drove along and feeling like that was exactly where I belonged. Continue reading →
If you were to sit me down one day and say, “Katie, I am so incredibly fascinated by your entire life story – pray tell me, what was your favourite thing about secondary school?” then my answer would be, simply: Band.
I ended up in Band by pure chance, which is just as well, because I have a terrible habit of holding myself back from trying exciting things by telling myself all of the ways it will go wrong. Luckily for me, my Year 7 history teacher just happened to have taken over the Band programme and she decided to look for a piano player in our class for complicated reasons that would bore you should I go into them. The short version goes like this: I was there; I played piano; I’d passed the highest AMEB exam of the piano players in the class – I was in.
All of my best memories of secondary school revolve around Band and my VCE History class, because I had an amazing History teacher who gave us lollipops in our last class and told us to save them for the exam because having a lollipop in our mouth would make our brains work better. I’m not sure how that would have gone down in exam conditions, so it’s lucky we all dealt with our lollipops long before the exam turned up.
There are many fine traditions in my life, one of which happens to be a tendency to go on a roadtrip at the drop of the hat. Unfortunately, another fine tradition seems to be my incredibly bad habit of waiting weeks before I share photos of the adventures on which I find myself with my exceedingly excellent friends, the Failboats. For example, I happened to be seeking out a blog post about a Failboats trip that occurred during a particular new year.
I found it in my March archives.
Today, however, I am delighted to report that these photos are only three weeks old and I must thus be improving when it comes to sharing my roadtripping photos. That means it’s under a month since I went to Canberra with the Melbourne contingent of the Failboats to commemorate the impending birth of another Failboat’s offspring. (Next time, I’m aiming to have the photographs up within a fortnight. This seems overly optimistic at this stage, but we’ll see.)
Join me as I share photographs with a bonus serve of My Thoughts on Roadtripping.
Time is speeding up, isn’t it? Everyone else got the memo but mine must have gone straight to spam because I was completely unprepared for the last fortnight to disappear without notice. What even happened? What did I do? All I can really remember is the last weekend because on Saturday, my band finally held the dinner dance for which we’ve spent half a year rehearsing and on Sunday, the Chef and I went on a little adventure for the first time in ages.
Our destination: Garfield, which is somewhat of an improvement on its original name of Cannibal Creek. Even though I would happily head to a small town in the country for no reason whatsoever, this time I had a purpose and it came in the form of the Garfield Heritage Winterfest Antiques Market. Oh, and an op shop in town that was opening on the Sunday, too.
There’s probably an art to roadtripping and proper ways of doing it, perhaps with an accompanying set of commandments: Thou shalt always have a full thermos before setting off, or, Thou shalt not pack on the morning of thy departure. But when it comes to Failboats and roadtripping (which happens to be one of our favourite pastimes) our approach is to take it as it comes. The most important part is to have a destination and a kitty for expenses; we make up everything else in between.
Before I headed to the bay with the Melbourne Failboats, there was a great convergence of all Failboats in Canberra for the wedding of the Failboat known as Jen. We came from Melbourne, Perth and Sydney and we even granted The Chef with honourary Failboats status for the course of the extra-long weekend.
The Chef and I headed off a day early, stopping over at the parents’ place in Beechworth, which is sort-of the half-way point. By the second day, everyone was on the road, sending updates and speculating on who’d reach Canberra first. Continue reading →