THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST

My oh my, we have been immersed in some spectacular nature and scenery since my last report. After departing my aunt and uncle’s place, for the third time, we made our way north along the coast to a town called Mendocino— a place my aunt and uncle continued to suggest that we visit.

After driving over and through rolling wine country, we came to the shifting coastline that persisted to get more rugged by the mile. Mendocino, a small coastal town that reminded us of home. Soft, green hills meeting sheer cliffs that clash with the ever-changing ocean. After spending so much time in the southern part of California, I had grown accustomed to the architecture out west. Spanish and clay styled homes, a different beach vibe than that of the east coast. Yet as we came into Mendocino, the style shifted and reflected a style much like Cape Cod: weatherboard houses turned grey with thick layers of salt, window shutters, and screened porches. Nostalgia overwhelmed me, this town was a hybrid of Gerringong and Cape Cod. My two favourite coastal locations.

Not to mention the small-town feel. While you could tell this was a place that thrived in summer and from tourism, the locals were out and about, offering smiles and kind hellos. In our first 15 minute stroll, we received a handful of warm welcomes, more than we’ve experienced in our whole time in the states. Not that there aren’t friendly people here, there are just SO many people, the kind ones often get buried in the dense population.

 

All along the coastal cliffs, were little trails through the tall grass, pressed right to the edge. Car parks scattered alongside and we easily set up camp for a few nights by the sea, no issues at all.

Every turn in the coastline offered a different view of various lumped rocks scattered next to the shore. Seal mums and their pups swam through inlets, playing and diving through clusters of seaweed, gathering their evening meal. It was a sight I’ll hold close forever.

 

From Mendocino, we pushed north. We made a pit stop at a campground that was totally worth the $15. We slept surrounded by strong, tall redwoods. We drove  through the redwood forest and it’s a scene I’ll never forget: the ambulance weaving through giant tree trunks stretching to the sky.

Then we made it out of California. Now, Cali is probably one of our favourite states, thanks to the varied landscape, but we’d spent a long time there, some of it re-tracing our steps, so it was time to get onto the next and see something different.

Oregon. We explored both the coast and inland, making strategic zig-zags. First stop was Crater Lake, another destination suggested by my aunt, a natural phenomenon that leaves you feeling like a speck of dust. We drove into the national park, climbing towards the sun as piles of snow began to appear at the side of the road. Though it was warm, we stood in the winter scenery in t-shirts. The lake, as the name describes, is an enormous crater filled with water, staring back at you like a spotless mirror. The sun shone high in the sky, beating down on the bright white snow and reflective water, leaving us squinty.

 

Crater Lake was a pit stop on our way to the town of Bend, a funky country town growing in population (as we were told by a couple from Oregon whom we met in northern Cali). After wandering around and spending a night there, we cut back to the coast. I was shocked to find out that people don’t really swim at the beaches this far north, apart from a few brave souls and surfers. To me, living by the sea is being in the sea. I could not be so close to something so entrancing and not be tempted to dive in. Although, the sea up north does seem dark and moody, and supposedly cold, so I understand peoples’ hesitations.

We spent the night in a sleepy, coastal town called Yachats. Lots of funky little shops, beautiful houses overlooking the ocean, boats in the harbour. Then to a town called Newport, a big fishing port where we couldn’t help ourselves but dine out and indulge in some fresh fish. When it lingers in the salt air all around you, there’s no giving in. We had drinks at a bar overlooking the bay, where seals sunbathed on docks and barked for attention.

 

From the coast, we cut back inland and visited Salem, the state capital, and then on into Portland, somewhere we’d both been itching to visit. Cities can be tough in terms of parking, but we got lucky and stayed just outside the Arts district. Plenty of residential streets with lots of cars, we were protected and comfortable. Spring was in full swing, the air rich with pollen (I cannot believe Abel’s hay fever didn’t flare), the otherwise green backdrop splattered with rich pinks, purples and yellows. Everyone talks about noticing a change as you drive from one state to the next, particularly out west, and coming into Oregon that is what I noticed most: all the shades of green. Deep greens, pale greens, all blending together from the grass, to small bushes and taller trees. You become encapsulated in nature, regardless of being in a city. It also reminded me  of “home” (Connecticut), being around the same latitude, the climate was very similar, as were the style of houses— nostalgia smacked me in the face once again.

On our first night out having dinner and drinks, a guy nearby overheard our Aussie accents and told us there was a popular Australian cafe on the street we were on, called Proud Mary’s. We knew it must have decent coffee so we went the next morning for breakfast and this place was not only huge, but it was packed. Much like the popular cafes at home, they were efficient and organised. We of course had a good chat with one of the owners, as him and Abel both greeted each other with a, “Hey, mate”. The menu boasted smashed avo, pavlova, and meat pies. The coffee was exceptional. We felt very at home that morning.

We did spend one day in the actual centre of the city. There were two large markets right next to each other. One, for pet owners. Literally, hundreds of dogs— pure heaven. The other markets were your typical makers and food markets. After perusing the streets, we got lunch from a Lebanese food truck and sat in the park looking over the water.

 

 

Portland sits right next to the Washington border so it wasn’t long before we were in a new state. In terms of the shifting landscape, the surrounding shades of green just became deeper and more saturated. That first night we lucked out and found a campground closed for the season, fee wise, but otherwise open to use for free. Completely empty, a beautiful clearing in the forest,  a running stream nearby and a water pump— not for drinking, but perfect for dishes.

The evening was slightly dampened however, when we decided to venture out of the van and make some s’mores. Before that, we’d been inside, watching Mad Men, and although I’d left the two side doors ajar to permit some fresh air, I had locked up the rest of the van. We stepped outside, preparing our dessert, and I lightly closed the side doors— enough to lock them (dumb, dumb, dumb). There was no getting back in. Originally, we had three sets of car keys. We’d placed one of them loose in the outside tray that held the three spare batteries. It was nowhere to be found. Either misplaced when we got new batteries, or fallen along a highway somewhere. The other two keys were trapped inside, along with pretty much everything bar a few drying dishes.

The windows have screws on the corners, so we tried to take them off, but the seal held them on tight. Abel used a fork to try and shimmy underneath the seal and cut it, but then the window shattered. We got back inside, which was a great plus, but the next day we had to focus on finding somewhere that could replace the window. Definitely not what we needed budget wise, but now she’s brand-spanking with a fresh layer of tint. And I’m now extra cautious when it comes to closing the doors behind me. You lose but you learn.

 

 

On our way towards Seattle we stopped in to Olympia, just south, the state’s capital. When we thought of Washington, we pictured rich rainforest everywhere. Here we really felt satisfied. It was cloudy and misty, much like a giant greenhouse. We spent a few nights here and drove around, basically just oggling the houses and the lucky inhabitants who live in this lush, seaside area. Before leaving we did a 4-5km trail through a rainforest that sat alongside the coast. Every now and then we’d push through the dense greenery and came to an opening where the sea stretched out before you. It was like two different worlds colliding.

 

Then we went to Seattle. Somewhere I’ve wanted to visit for a very, very long time. Our first day in the city, Abel and I did the tourist thing and went up the iconic Space Needle. For some reason I get these weird moments of bravery and forget all about my crippling fear of heights and then we enter the elevator, with windows, and the sensation shoots up my legs and I remember. I did pretty well though. Even in the area with a glass floor that slowly rotates. I stood on it and tried not to look down. Since Abel’s birthday was approaching and we weren’t entirely sure if we would be anywhere special, we treated ourselves to lunch and a drink overlooking the streets of Seattle that led to the harbour.

 

It was also extra special because my long-time, dear friend, Hannah (who now lives in Alaska with her wife Nora) was in town, visiting with friends and going to see Camp Cope, an Aussie band. Hannah, Nora and their twin friends Noah and Eli were super hospitable. They let us park for the night in their apartment complex, let us use their bathroom and shower and otherwise chill with the group. It was so lovely to catch up, I think I’ve only seen Hannah once in the past 12+ months or so and I hadn’t met Nora yet, so it was really special to finally see how happy and loved up they are. We went along with them to Camp Cope, a band made up of three girls who are very political in their lyrics— perfect timing given the bullshit that is happening in Alabama, and other states, and all across the country and the rest of the world. I won’t rant about that now.

The next afternoon, after a slow morning, we were finally all fresh and ready to venture into the city and do some exploring. Abel and I were going to drive in so we could do a few things after, and the rest of the crowd was grabbing an Uber. As we watched their ride drive out of the complex, we tried to start the car to no avail. No noise but a sheer grind. We had a feeling it was the starter, so unfortunately we didn’t really get a chance to see much of Seattle. The ambulance was a little under the weather and needed a doctor. Not too much of an issue, a simple fix really and nothing to do with the engine, however this was not kind to our budget, once again. Dad came to the rescue, used his points to book us a room at the Hilton— the sheer bittersweetness of car issues. We treated ourselves to room service and had the best sleep we’ve had in a long time. Not that we don’t have good sleeps in the ambulance, but it’s nice to have a bit of space sometimes.

From this incident we knew we needed to push our journey along if we wanted to see everything on our list within the means of our budget. From Seattle we moved back East across the state.

Once again, I was in awe of the changing landscape. I’m sure you’re sick of hearing me go on about it, but Washington, like California, was all kinds of beautiful. The lush greenery of the north-western coast trickled out slowly and became big, brown desert. A change you can see, the way you can feel the shifting wind. The hills were green and consuming, then they were rough, coffee-coloured rock— sharp and sudden. The mountains were cliffs, steep and dark to look at. Then they were gone. And it was like we were driving through Texas once again.

We drove a few hours and came to a town called Leavenworth, with an old school Bavarian village. Literally, everything was in that ancient font— every single storefront, including McDonald’s and Starbucks. Not one place interrupted the theme. It felt like we were inside of a fairytale, or The Sound of Music, for the snowy mountains stood tall in the distance, swarms of green pines at their base. We spent a night here.

 

From there we continued East and once again came into a new state: Idaho. A place I’ve never had a desire to go, but I guess was kind of oblivious to it’s geographical location: right between Washington and Montana and Wyoming, all places I knew to be beautiful, so why not Idaho? We stayed in a tourist village, Coeur d’Alene, and it was lovely. A large, glass lake and lots of quirky shops and art galleries. It was Abel’s birthday while we were here, which made it even better because we allowed ourselves to eat and drink all day long, and basically just do whatever we wanted without the haunting thoughts of our bank balance.

That was all we did in Idaho, since we were located in the “pan handle” of the state. If you don’t know, Idaho has a skinny section up top and a wider area down below— the thinner area known as the pan handle. Then we came into Montana.

Montana I knew was going to be epic and enormous, and you could see it instantly. The hills and mountains began to swell, exploding in their mass. Tall and soft bristled— either with large quantities of trees, or velvety grass. Rivers and creeks everywhere. The view just didn’t stop. There was always a mountain or five, always a curved, rushing river wrapping around a log cabin. It was vast, stunning, and quiet. We camped our first night at a free campground right by a beautiful river, everywhere clad with signs stating we were in bear country. Grizzly country more specifically. After speaking with some of the neighbours who camped here often, they assured us it was very unheard of to see a bear in these parts— but it is Spring, and hibernation is over, so never say never.

 

We spent another two nights in Montana as we headed South towards Yellowstone National Park and Wyoming. A night at another free campground on the water. Then in a town called Missoula, where we restocked on our groceries. Then to Gardiner, a town that flanks the northwest entrance into Yellowstone. Lots of people around here, gearing to enter or just leaving the park. We spent a night here, parked at the Library near the local high school as large elk slept on the hockey field nearby.

All at the second free campground just north of Missoula, Montana

 

Yellowstone might just have taken the cake in terms of the most impressive and beautiful place on our whole trip. Maybe. But also most likely. We’ve never seen anything like it. I knew to expect animals and thermal pools, but I didn’t realise that Yellowstone is basically a giant thermal area, due to erupt as it hasn’t for many years. I’m not so good with geology type stuff so I won’t try and sound smart or educated in that area. We took two days to see it all, and we saw it all. Every thermal pool, a baby black bear, wolves, bison and more bison, goats, a few grizzlies. We spent the night in a campground located halfway around the loop, a nice way to break it up, and I was certain we would see a bear here. No such luck, and I suppose that’s a good thing considering there were so many campers in tents. No thank you.

 

From Yellowstone we continued south through Wyoming, stopping to gym/shower, sleep, refuel etc. But basically, we drove straight to Denver, where my cousin Elise lives. We only got to see each other briefly over Christmas, and it was pretty chaotic, so it’s been real nice to see her and not have to rush our visit. Her and her housemate/friend Paxton have welcomed us into their cute little apartment. They’ve taken us to some really good food places so far, with more to come, and we repay them by cooking dinner.

We’ll stay in Denver for a couple more weeks, then we’re planning on flying back to SF, our first continental US location, to visit with my mom and dad who will be housesitting for my aunt. From here, our journey will finish and we will make our way down under.

The ambulance has sold. I’ll talk about that on my next post when I get a bit emotional and talk more about the bittersweetness of a journey coming to a close.

Til next time.

A

MEMORABLE PLACES AND MEMORABLE PEOPLE

Our road trip is well underway and we’ve passed through a total of five states now. Safe to say Abel has seen more of the USA then some Americans. The ambulance is forever a conversation starter and we’ve met all kinds of people. Some sweet, heart-warming souls that really love and appreciate what we’re doing, and then there are the few odd balls. They keep it interesting though and are, unfortunately, the people we’ll remember the most.

 

Here’s a bit about some of the hot-stops so far and some of the individuals we’ve encountered:

Ocala National Forest, Florida

This was actually our first stop and a very memorable one. We spent two nights at a campground alongside Lake Dorr (not for swimming unfortunately– discovered this after a long, sweaty car trip). That first night we learnt the hard way: the sun went down quickly, just as we had finished cooking and the heat meant that a flock of mosquitos (hundreds, if not thousands) swarmed us and the inside of our ambo. The humidity is absolutely unbearable in that thing and normally, we would open the doors wide, hang up our mossy nets and sleep with a breeze… but, there’s actually bears in Florida. That was a real shock to us. Upon our arrival, the camp host greeted us with an information sheet about how to keep the bears away. Bear proof bins and food containers were provided on site, but since we had an enclosed vehicle that was fine– we just had to put up with a hot box and hope no bears would crawl into our area to give our van a little rumble.

 

The following day we journeyed further into the national park to Alexander Springs. This was a major highlight, we were ready to dip into some refreshing water. First walking down towards the spring, just to the side of the boat ramp was an “alligator” warning sign. We had been curious about this, but since no one mentioned a thing we figured there would be no large lizards. Immediately, we questioned whether we could swim and our hearts began to sink a little– after that sticky night’s sleep, we needed a dip. Over to the right of the sign and past a little grass patch, we could see some people swimming. Snorkelling, in fact. Just beyond the alligator warning sign, out along the surface of the spring, lay a long rope/net contraption. We assumed this was to keep the alligators away, but how effective and reliable it was, we weren’t too sure. I’d read online that this area was designated for swimming and snorkelling , so with other people frolicking on the netted side, we took the risk.

The phrase “crystal clear” has never really meant anything until now. If an alligator was near or at a distance, you would certainly see it coming. This water was like glass, recently sprayed with windex and wiped away with a clean cloth. Up the back to the far right of the spring, was a large turquoise-coloured area. It stood out like a diamond in the rough. Except the “rough” wasn’t really rough at all. More like, a really large, more-sparkly diamond, among other diamonds. We waded towards it and the temperature and floor dropped simultaneously. A subtle current flowed from the north and flushed throughout the area, a 3-metre crater sprawling below us. It didn’t look that deep, until Abel swam down beneath me and his figure continued to shrink as he kicked further and further.

 

Kayaks were available for hire and we had a few hours to kill after taking a walk through the woods. To be honest, we reached a landing and saw a few kayakers paddling past. When I asked the woman if they’d seen any alligators she said, “Oh not me, but my husband did. I saw lots of turtles and an otter though.” An otter!!!!! Sold.

We took the double kayak into the “alligator” warning section of the spring (the only section you were allowed to kayak in) and made the paddle up towards the bridge. It was definitely freaky knowing the alligators were somewhere in that water, but our minds were fairly at ease. Abel had asked one of the park rangers and he said they weren’t very big. Plus, if they were a real risk to the people (the sign actually said alligators are scared of “man”) they wouldn’t promote kayaking in those sections of the spring. The lady told us to avoid the reeds, that’s mainly where they hang out. It took a little while and a keen eye, but we eventually saw one, and then another, and a few more after that. I couldn’t help but continue to call them “crocs” and that just makes them sound way more frightening. For the most part, they hung low by the reeds, and you saw their heads and backs protruding through the water’s surface. Once we saw one crossing the spring, a good 10-metres in front of us. Lots of turtles, lots of fish, and even a bear! A baby black bear climbed a tree to our left and we gasped/squealed multiple times in half a minute. It was fleeting though, so no photos captured of that. And no otters. That would’ve made my day.

 

(look close to see gator)

(look close again– gator on log)

 

That night back at the campground we met Rich. An older man, I believe in his 70s, who came over to, of course, talk to us about our ambulance. He was staying at the campsite across from his and was visiting his mate in the one adjacent. He kept saying “good for you guys, good for you guys” as his hands patted down the top of his jaundice-grey ponytail. Rich used to work for a big corporate company but made the quit about 30 years ago. His boss offered him a promotion and he told him to go stick it up his ass. You wouldn’t think your boss would be very impressed with that kind of attitude, but they had drinks later that night and his boss told him how envious he was that Rich had the guts to do something like that. Now Rich works as an “art dealer”, per say. He “caught the wanderlust” and moves around the country in his trailer RV, buying cheap antique art from flea markets and re-selling it at flea markets around the country. To be honest, it sounds like he makes a butt-load of money. Turns out most of the people at the campground all knew each other, all here for the local antique fair. Good on ’em.

 

Pit-stop before our next few destinations was… Disney World, Orlando.

We kind of tossed up going for a little while. Mainly because Abel wasn’t the slightest bit interested, but it has been my dream to go since I was a little girl. I’m a massive Disney fan and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to fulfil my five-year old dreams (let’s be honest, it was still my dream) of meeting Ariel and Minnie Mouse. They were honestly my heroes. I have my baby Minnie Mouse who’s been everywhere with me, to hell and back. She’s had a tough ride; losing a tale, and her hat (Mum sewed that back on, on more than one occasion), and her nose is discoloured, but she’s still a little cutie to me. I dressed up as Minnie on my 4th? birthday, and had a Minnie Mouse cake. I had Minnie Mouse towel. The Little Mermaid… I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve watched that movie. Not only as a little girl, but a lot in my teen years. If I was sad, The Little Mermaid, if I was hungover, The Little Mermaid, if I had my period, The Little Mermaid. And also when I was happy and just felt like it, too. I used to have a Little Mermaid toilet seat, suit case, sleeping bag, and heaps of other stuff. You get the picture.

Abel pretty much knew that, even though I said we didn’t have to go because tickets were $122 each (!!!!) plus we’d spend a lot more, he couldn’t take this away from me. So off we went, we spent the big bucks on tickets, parking, food was actually pretty cheap, and we didn’t buy a lot at the gift shop (The Little Mermaid journal for me, plus we were in need of a new keychain, a simple ‘A’ that has Minnie, Mickey and Goofy on it).

 

I want to say it was worth it, but… there were things that let me down. Things I probably knew were going to happen, but I’d pushed them to the back of my mind. For one, the lines. Every single ride or attraction had the wait time posted out the front, some saying “90 minutes”. Granted, this wasn’t always the case. Abel agreed to stand in line for me to meet Ariel when the wait time said “55 Minutes”. We waited maybe 20, so not terrible. I giggled like a nervous little girl when I sat next to her. She asked what my sunglasses were because, “we don’t have these under the sea”. Oh, Ariel, you’re hilarious.

The rides were all fairly tame– not that Abel or I can handle intense rides, but I would have tried some riskier ones. I kind of forgot that the entire park is uh, really aimed at little kids.

But the one thing that really disappointed me was the lack of characters roaming the park. I was always under the impression that different characters from all the movies would be wandering around in costume and in character, ready for a chat and photo at a minutes notice. This was not the case. All the major characters had their own attractions that you had to line up in to get your picture taken. Maybe this is only the case at Disney Land in California? Or perhaps the characters were getting swarmed and attacked by small children, I don’t know. But it wasn’t what I was expecting.

 

We stopped for single nights at a couple places on the way to my Nan’s house in South Carolina. New Smryna Beach, FL (apparently major shark territory, we learned this after the fact that we went swimming at dusk post-Disney World. Woops), St. Augustine, FL, Brunswick, GA.

The only exciting thing to report from this section of the journey, was our encounter with Grizzly in St. Augustine. This place was pretty, on the water, but it was grey and cool when we were there. So, not a lot to do. We decided to spend the night at beach carpark, which is often the safest and easiest option. We had tried to get a site at the state park right near by, but we just missed out. After cooking dinner and doing the washing, the sun had just settled in for the night, so we were getting ready to do the same. A big truck pulls in, with a row of yellow lights on the top. At first, we think this is a cop or a ranger, but it’s not. Just a big man, with a big white beard and a camo bandana tied around his head. He sits in his car for a while, and I’m very aware of his presence. Then he goes for a wander on the beach. On his way back towards his truck, I see him watching us pack our things away. He slowly walks over and starts making conversation, once again, about the ambulance. I start to calm down and think, he looks scary, but I’m sure he’s fine. I’m sitting in the side of the ambulance, blocking the entrance with my legs, as I put the dishes away. Abel stands beside him in the doorframe as he chats with us. The conversation moves from our travels to his former job as tour bus driver. Apparently he toured with Metallica, Pearl Jam, The Rolling Stones and heaps of other well-known bands. So that’s pretty cool. I notice he’s whacking a long black thing into his right palm. I’m thinking, Fuck, is that a baton? This dude is huge and weird. Abel and I are trying to close the chat and get him away from our van. I only notice that it’s a torch (flashlight), when a helicopter flies over head with a spotlight on the beach, and Grizzly begins yelling at it, flashing his torch in it’s direction. Then he asks us if we’re planning to spend the night here, Abel and I kind of glance at each other, hesitate and say, “Yeeeeeeah, we think so…”

He says, “Ah I don’t know if I would. There’s a lot of weirdos around here. A lot of weird shit happens in this area at night time, like lots of weird shit. Just because it borders on the state park, ya know? I’m a bit of a safety guy. If I was you, I’d head down near the plaza on the main strip and just park near the bank. You shouldn’t have any trouble there.”

This is coming from the guy who just made several racist comments and told us we need to get a gun. I’m thinking the spotlight was searching for him. So, of course we decided not to stay there. But we also didn’t want to go and stay exactly where he told us to. Unfortunately, our ambulance is very recognisable. You can see her from hundreds of yards away. We ended up parking in a public lot on the main street where there were lots of witnesses around. I felt safer. I’m sure Grizzly was harmless, but when he shook our hands and said his name as he departed, I wasn’t so convinced.

 

Since then, we did a day trip to Savannah, GA on the way to my Nan’s house in Bluffton, SC where we stayed for a few nights. Then we made our way to visit Kelsey in Wilmington, NC with a pit-stop in Charleston, SC.

Savannah is such a beautiful little city. Quaint, old, and jam packed with lots of character. Cobblestone streets and building lining the waterfront. Funky art galleries and the most impressive antique bookshop I’ve ever been to, Books on Bay. This woman’s collection was out of this world. Hundreds of Nancy Drew’s (I couldn’t help myself, I bought some very old, limited-edition “twin” sets, the first four stories in two books). But she had collections worth hundreds of dollars in this store, some thousands. Shakespeare’s dating back to the 1800’s.

 

It was so lovely to see my Nan after five years, even though so much time passes between our visits, she’s still the same and I’ll forever feel extremely comfortable in her presence. In the earlier years of my life, her and my Grandad lived directly across the road from us. I spent countless hours at their house. Being in her house, that I’ve never been to be for, felt totally familiar– she still has lots of the same furniture and decorations. Even the same dining room chairs.

Nan took us into Beaufort, SC for the day and it was stunning. Right on the water, with huge southern styled houses all around. I forgot how enormous the houses can be here. They’re antiques and have so much character to them.

 

 

Our weekend with Kelsey was so special. For Abel especially, I am sure. We’ve spent the past two months hopping around the country and visiting my family, I know he would’ve been missing his own. It was also just comforting to be around an Australian. Although I’m both, I’ve done so much of my developing and growing back in Aus, so that’s what I identify with the most. We had a good laugh talking about things Aussies say vs. the yankee lingo.

(Wilmington has the most incredible sunsets)

Our first night we got unexpectedly drunk. We started the evening with a few wines and nibbles on the beach. We were supposed to mosey into town to get some dinner and drinks, but the first bar we went into had double vodka red-bulls for $10. Say no more. Free buffalo wings with every round too, so we got some food in our bellies. Abel, the man constantly buying rounds (even when no one has finished their previous drink) is the one to blame here, I think. We were pretty dusty the next day, but we had a good explore of Wilmington and their annual Riverfest was on which made the town really light up.

Abel and I headed a bit further north after that to Beaufort, NC where we spent two nights and did a whole lot of nothing. The town was beautiful, quiet, right on the water with lots of boats. All the parking along the main strip at the water front was free and with no “no overnight parking” signs. We felt safe to set up here. I almost didn’t want to leave.

 

 

The Outer Banks is made up of a couple of long, thing islands that run parallel with the North Carolina coastline. Scattered with weatherboard houses, towering up to four storeys high. It’s home to the tallest lighthouse in America, at Cape Hatteras, and “arguably the most recognisable”. I’ve been there a couple of times with my family, but not since I was really little. My dad had suggested we go here after Wilmington and it worked out really well. I was pretty unsure of what we were going to do for Thanksgiving or where we were going to be. I was convinced we’d be eating out for the feast, at Denny’s or something. My Nan had told me her brother Bobby, his wife Rosemary, their kids Michele and Nick (my Dad’s cousins), their partners and children all hire a house out every year at the Outer Banks for Thanksgiving. She made a few calls and organised for us to join them so we wouldn’t spend it alone. I’m really so thankful she did, because I haven’t seen this part of my family since I was maybe, nine years old, at my great-grandmother’s 90th birthday (Mimi’s still kicking by the way, 105! Can you believe it?), and that was probably one of the only times I’d ever met them.

They welcomed us into their home with open arms, made us feel so comfortable, allowing us to spend a night inside, use their showers and do some laundry. Plus they put on a damn good feast. We couldn’t have been more grateful for their hospitality, they’re such a lovely bunch of people.

 

Now we’re spending our second night in Virginia at campground in the First Landing State Park. We washed dishes in a basin with hot water for this first time and cooked our meal over an open fire last night. Great luxuries for us.

 

I’ll be back to talk more about how we’re travelling van-life wise.

Until then,

Like. Comment. Share with your friends.

 

A