Bunnings, Burgers & Bus Adventures

The crisp Tasmanian air nipped at our cheeks as we approached Launceston, our trusty bus humming along the winding road. A hint of anticipation hung in the air, a subtle undercurrent to our adventure. Our first stop was the local Bunnings Hardware, a treasure trove of possibilities for our mobile home. The smell of fresh timber and paint assailed our senses as we wandered the aisles, picking up a few small items to breathe new life into our beloved bus.

With our DIY aspirations satisfied, we turned our attention to our grumbling stomachs. The local grocery store beckoned, its colourful produce and tempting aromas promising a feast for our road-weary souls. In a moment of indulgence, we decided to treat ourselves to some takeaway – a rare luxury in our nomadic lifestyle. The familiar golden arches of McDonald's called to us, promising a quick and comforting meal. The savoury scent of burgers and fries filled the bus, mingling with the anticipation of our upcoming pit stop.

As the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, we made our way to the Honeysuckle Banks Campsite in Evandale, just a short five-minute drive from the airport. We quickly set up camp, knowing we'd need to leave again soon for the airport. With our temporary home established, we pointed the bus towards the departures terminal. The mood shifted slightly, a touch of melancholy settling over us as we approached. Anth's flight to Melbourne loomed, a brief but necessary detour in our shared journey. We lingered at the drop-off point, neither of us wanting to be the first to say goodbye. Finally, with a tight hug and a promise to reunite soon, Anth disappeared into the bustling crowd, leaving Sal alone with the quiet hum of the bus engine.

Sal returned to the Honeysuckle Campsite, hoping for a peaceful night but finding restlessness instead. Her light sleeping tendencies, usually a minor inconvenience, became a significant hurdle in this less-than-ideal location. The campsite's proximity to the train tracks meant that every passing train sent reverberations through her bed, jolting her awake just as she began to drift off. The constant comings and goings of cars, their headlights occasionally sweeping across the bus windows, added to the nocturnal disruptions. To compound matters, the campsite's position under the flight path ensured that even the sky offered no respite, with the intermittent roar of aircraft engines punctuating the night. It was a far cry from the tranquil evening she had hoped for, and a stark reminder of the unpredictable nature of life on the road. As dawn broke, Sal found herself bleary-eyed and weary, longing for the familiar comfort of Anth's presence and the quiet nights they usually shared in more secluded spots.

Meanwhile, Anth's journey took an unexpected turn. The flight, already a source of slight anxiety, faced delay after delay. Time crawled by, the airport's harsh fluorescent lights and uncomfortable chairs a poor substitute for the cozy confines of their bus. It was nearly midnight when Anth finally arrived at Blake's house in Melbourne, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. The offer of a couch to crash on was a godsend, infinitely preferable to the impersonal chill of a hostel or the extravagance of a hotel room. As Anth drifted off to sleep, his thoughts wandered back to Sal and their bus, a pang of homesickness tugging at his heart.

The following afternoon brought a joyous reunion. As Anth climbed back into the bus, it felt like slipping into a warm embrace. The familiar scent of home washed over him, erasing the stress of his brief sojourn in the city. We decided to linger one more night at Evandale, savouring the tranquility of the campsite and the comfort of being together again. Tomorrow, we would finally head back up to Penstock Lagoon, chasing the promise of Tasmanian snow.Read more