 Although ours was a campervan, this sketch by John Murray entitled "Are we there yet?" summed up some of our feelings! 
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Are we there yet?
Another lovely morning saw the beginning of our last day on the road. We had
been very positively impressed with the caravan park. Even the amenities
block was spotless with signs everywhere instructing patrons on what to do
and not do. Clearly the retired couple running it cared very much about
keeping it well.
After refuelling the van, I took the wheel for a simply splendid drive to
Quirindi. Rolling green and gold fields surrounded by distant blue-hazed
hills, little traffic and a perfect Sunday morning made my spirits soar.
What magnificent country! At Quirindi, Bruce took over and we continued
through the same sort of countryside for miles and miles, accompanied once
again by the rail line and one or two long trains loaded with grain. By the
sides of the road, golden wattle blazed and cattle and horses grazed
leisurely in paddocks beyond. We climbed the final hill before Murrundi,
sweeping down through the small town, totally inspired by what we saw.
Driving on, we arrived at the horse centre of NSW, Scone, where we stopped
for refreshments. I took the wheel for another inspiring drive through
further Australian glory, passing through Muswellbrook, past Bayswater and
Liddell power stations, past enormous open-cut coalmines and on to
Singleton. The day continued to be perfect as we began to see more houses
and hamlets beside the road, signs of an increasing presence of
civilisation.
Turning off the main highway at Branxton, we prepared for the last leg of
our journey. Bruce took the wheel for the drive to Cessnock, we stopped
briefly at MacDonald’s and Bruce decided after a quick snack to keep
driving from there to Sydney as well. Beyond Cessnock in the now lazy
warmth of afternoon, we passed the Hunter Gardens, reminding us of a
delightful weekend we’d spent there with friends, and then on past vineyards
and bushland on to the F3, over the Hawkesbury River, through the
all-too-familiar Sydney traffic and finally home. Our energy was
extraordinarily high and we were able easily to unpack the van and begin the
longer process of settling back into normal routine. Our experience had
been so dramatic and so totally different for us that this process would
take some time.
Epilogue
We travelled so far and so fast, we were challenged by so many new
experiences and so humbled by the reality that is Australia beyond the
comfortable familiarity of its coastal fringe that we shall need a long time
to distil what was most significant out of so much richness.
On the purely mundane level, we learnt how to manage a campervan, how to
manage living in a campervan and how to best get on with each other in such
close quarters. We are proud of that.
To our surprise, we also learnt how pleasant life in caravan parks can be.
Informality is the key though there is still a discreet etiquette at play.
No-one dresses up, washing drapes on folding racks everywhere, sipping
drinks and socialising or watching TV under caravan awnings is a daily
experience. Domestic routine is the glue that holds the traveller’s life
together. Always, food must be bought, stored and cooked. Clothes and linen
must be washed and dried in shared laundries where many conversations
flourish. Vans must be swept and washed and electricity leads, water hoses,
drainpipes and gas tanks attended to as part of that same routine. All this
is easy, soothing and pleasant, at least for the period of a holiday. Some
take it on for months or even years, but that is another story.
Best of all, however, was the impact of our country on our dulled ‘citified’
senses - its vastness, its dryness, its extraordinary colour, its bounty of
hidden riches and essential artesian water, its unique flora and fauna, its
mystery and its implicit danger.
Would we venture forth so boldly again? Perhaps, perhaps not. What is
certain is we shall never be the same. We have a new realisation of oneness
with our wide, brown land, of ourselves having sprung from its soil, and in
that lies a marvellous feeling of belonging and identity. That is a precious
gift.