CATCHING UP ON THE JOURNEY

I figured I should catch you guys up, so to speak, on the chronology of our trip. I’ll skip over what you know.

After Thanksgiving, we made our way up through North Carolina into Virginia, where we spent a few nights at a campground in a state park. That was a really nice few days– it felt like we had time to relax and not rush. There wasn’t anything particular we wanted to see in Virginia Beach and the weather was pretty crappy. I remember that night was probably the first really cold night we’d spent in the van. I reckon it got down to maybe 1 degree C (the coldest we’ve done was -8 C in Salem). We made a fire and sat pressed up against it, layered in our new hats, gloves and scarves. I wrote, drank tea, and we made our first dinner over an open fire (our new favourite thing to do). I ran (!!!!!) two days in a row (this is a seriously big deal for me– I have despised running for most of my life, and now, I almost kind of like it. Who am I?), but yeah, we pretty much chillaxed there, and that was great.

We drove over the Delmarva Peninsula to go through Maryland on our way to Washington DC. The bridges over here tend to be really big, very high and for people who know me well, heights are not my friend. For some funny reason, I always seem to be driving whenever we have to go over one of these monsters. I know, I know, they’re, for the most part, totally safe. But, I’d almost rather be a passenger while travelling across a huge bridge. I feel as though I’m too in control. Like, if I wasn’t paying attention, or being too careful, or something happened and my arms spasmed and went crazy and we just steered a little to the right, and then BOOM we’re flying off the bridge and into the water. I know that sounds a little paranoid and crazy, but my Aunt Melissa actually feels very similar about this– so I am definitely not alone.

On this leg of the journey we had to drive over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. It’s 23 miles long (37 km). There are two structures, one for each direction and they both have double lanes. There’s no shoulder though, hardly any space either side of the lanes between your moving vehicle and the tiny little fence. There were about 2x 1 mile long tunnels that broke up the journey. I was in a sweat most of the time.

We made it across in one piece and headed for Crisfield, MD… I don’t know how to describe it. I’ll just say, often when we have made the decision to drive a few hours in the direction we plan to head, it’s difficult deciding where we should go. There’s times where the destination is obvious, well-known cities or highly-populated areas. Other times, though, we just have to wing it and we tend to choose somewhere on the coast (if that’s an option based on our current location) and generally about 2-3 hours from where we currently are. Crisfield, MD. We drove secluded highways to get out to this town. Winding roads with beautiful, emerald yards planked along the sides. I expected something really stunning, and naturally, we got that. I mean to say, it was spectacular in its natural debut, but not much the township itself. We drove through the flat, desolate main street and, as we often do in the more interesting towns, Abel and I shared a glance that said it all. Crowned the “crab capital of the world”, Crisfield sat right on the edge of the water– flat, sprawling, endless, reflective, breath-taking.

But we struggled to find a place that we felt safe in. We drove around trying to find an area to park near the water, and after getting bogged and having to shove rocks on either side of the tires, we came to a small parking lot situated at a tiny little beach. There were toilets, a tap– neither in operation “CLOSED FOR THE WINTER”. A playground on the sand, picnic tables. Very nice. A few suss looking dudes drove down, sat in their running cars for 15 minutes, left… came back again half an hour later. Amongst other visitors. Abel was uneasy. Once it got well and truly dark, there were no more visitors. But you know how it is, once someone is nervous about something and you can feel it, then you start feeling it to. We made it through the night and woke up to one of our best views yet, and then we got the hell outta that place.

Washington DC was really great to go back to. I’ve only been once and was aged 8 or 9, so was keen to check out some of the museums with my newfound wisdom that comes from the gradual ageing process (just being older and appreciating things more). After taking some time to figure out the whole van-city situation, we ended up spending one night in a Lowe’s carpark and the next three at a campground just outside the city. It was getting rather cold when we were there so the wandering and exploring was kept to a minimum. We got to see and do what we wanted though. The National Museum of Natural History, The Holocaust Museum, we walked alongside the Washington Monument, Reflection Pool and The Lincoln Memorial. The basics. Christmas markets were also in full swing at this point (our real first taste of that) which was exciting, and we ate some really amazing Cuban food there.

 

Post-D.C. was really lovely, I made a call to my Mum’s good friend, and our long-time family friends, Val and Mike. They lived in Fairfield while I was growing up and my family spent a lot of time with them and their three boys. West Chester, Pennsylvania is where they live now and Abel and I were welcomed into their home for a night. We were totally spoilt, taken into town to watch the enormous, festive Christmas Parade and we ate dinner at a restaurant that overlooked all of the activity. The township was beautiful, lots of brick buildings dressed in white lights. It’s always nice when you end up in a sweet place, somewhere you probably never would’ve gone to had it not been for some friends.

From there we went to the Amish Market and Philadelphia, where the incident from my last post occurred. So I’ll move right along.

We stopped in briefly for two nights back in Fairfield at my aunt and uncle’s place. Always nice to feel “at home” and be able to relax. We’d left some suitcases there before heading to Florida, so we collected our things, cleaned out and reorganised the ambulance. My aunt and uncle have a beach house out at Cape Cod (we used to go out there twice every summer, my Nan and Grandad had a place there too) and were kind enough to let us stay there. We stopped in Newport, RI for a night to break up the drive and it was a really quaint, little, upmarket beach town– but in winter.

The beach house became our little refuge for the next five days. I don’t think I’ve ever played so many games, condensed into such a small period of time, in my whole life. Kirstie, you would’ve been proud. We tackled one of the puzzles, a decadent fish scene titled “the underwater mardi gras”. You know how when you’re doing a big jigsaw with lots of pieces and you can never seem to find the piece you’re looking for, so naturally you are convinced it’s been lost? I thought I was going crazy. Abel was losing his mind. For a few hours in the afternoon on our fourth day, we sat intent on finishing this damn puzzle. And we did. With 27 missing pieces. Our minds weren’t lost, just those fucking pieces.

It was kind of hilarious to see Cape Cod in the dead of winter. For those who don’t know, this place is a little arm off of Massachusetts– you have the bay side and the ocean side, not too far from each other. It’s a summer haven, where most North-easterners escape to during the humid, sticky months of June-August. Majority of the restaurants along the main road that connects all the little towns have been there since I was a small child. You pull in, see “The Lobster Shanty” with it’s row boat, buoys and nets on the roof and know that you’re kind of in a little time capsule, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Unfortunately, much of the cape closes down for the winter season, each restaurant bearing signs “THANKS FOR ANOTHER GREAT SEASON! SEE YOU IN APRIL!”.

Apart from a Sunday trip out to Provincetown (the funkiest little place ever and again, very, very different in winter than summer) we pretty much reclused (yes, I just used recluse as a verb) indoors. Scrabble, Rummikub, and our new game Jaipur (we bought this in P-town from a game shop called “Puzzle Me This”, a store that’s been around nearly as long as I have) were being played on rotate.

Eventually we moved on. Boston next– we only stayed one night here. It was cold and parking wasn’t plentiful. We found an open lot with paid parking but for the one night and most of the next day, it was $60. We’d explored and seen what we wanted, so we made our way to Salem. Which you’ve already read lots about.

 

From Salem we went to Burlington, Vermont. My cousin Zach went to university here and we’d been told it was a very cute little town. We weren’t lied to, it was lively and filled with young students, and more Christmas lights.

Next stop: Montreal, Canada!!! My dear friend Sarah is living there with her boyfriend, Antoine and it’s just crazy how close it was to where we were, yet a totally different country. It seemed silly not to pay them a visit. Of course, we thought entry into Canada would be a piece of cake! Aren’t all Canadians soft and squishy and just always nice? Kind of forgot about the fact that Quebec is French-Canadian territory and uh, Frenchies can be funny about things. The officer at border security totally grilled us. From the minute we pulled up to his window, he was shaking his head at us and instantly frustrated with our presence. He asked question after question about things we were bringing in (normal, totally normal). He asked if we had any firewood, I glanced at Abel and he nodded, “Yeah, we have a few pieces”. The officer shook his head more. Sighed a couple of times, rubbed his beard and forehead all in one big movement.

“Why do you have firewood?” Why does anyone have firewood? Usually to burn. In a fire of some sort.

“How many pieces do you have?” I looked at Abel and he shrugged, “Ten?”

The head shaking continued, layered with beard-stroking, brow-furrowing and a couple more sighs for good measure.

“Now,” he began, “I could let you into the country with the firewood. And do you know what you’d have to do with it?” I stared. “You would need to dispose of the wood in a metal container.” Ok then.

“Can we burn it?” I asked. Sigh. Head-shake.

“You know what, no. No, I can’t do it. Ten pieces is just too much. How would I know that you would dispose of it properly? You’re gonna have to go back to US soil, do what you will with the wood and come back. I’ll give you a form to pick up around the corner and you’ll need to re-enter the United States.”

We did as we were told. Upon re-entry to the US, I of course had to explain what had just transpired.

“We’re just coming back because we were denied entry into Canada,” I told him. He looked us up and down, “Why were you denied entry?” I told him about the firewood, he asked us some more questions and we left. We headed for the woods, ditched the beautiful chopped wood my uncle had given us and headed back for Canada.

He asked us what we did with the wood and I told him. “So if I look back there, I won’t find so much as a twig?” Jesus Christ. “I hope not”, “Go on in then”.

Three nights were spent at Sarah and Antoine’s apartment in Montreal. I hadn’t seen Sarah since November of 2017, just before she embarked on her journey to live and work in Canada. Seeing her again was something I anticipated and yearned for– we text nearly every day. Meeting her boyfriend Antione for the first time was really lovely and I’ve never seen her so happy.

The temperature was low and there were scattered flurries passing through Montreal, so we pretty much stayed in doors, drank and ate lots and watched movies. We were more than happy to do this; it was nice to be in the company of others, in a cozy space. We did get out to Mont Royal, an incredible natural beauty in the middle of the city, overlooking it all. Being outside the US for a little stint was special too– different sites, different shops and a different language. A bit of a treat for us.

 

From there we pretty much hustled back to Fairfield, CT for Christmas, via New York, a quick sleep in Wilmington, Vermont and down on through Massachusetts.

The Christmas period was a bit of a whirlwind, as it is for everyone, each and every year, all around the world. I guess that’s why it’s so magical– lots of energy and Christmas spirit pulsating from every corner of the globe (or whatever holiday people are celebrating at that time to bring their families close). Getting back to the Finzi’s was exciting because I hadn’t seen my cousins Elise or Nathalie yet, nor had Abel met them. My Mum and Dad were also coming to town over the next few days and while I’d seen Dad a few months back, I hadn’t seen my Mum since April, along with my brother Marcus and his girlfriend Nicole, so the weekend was filled with all kinds of reunions.

Another important one being on the 23rd, Abel and I drove into the city to pick up his cousin Kelsey from the airport. She’d had a pretty hectic long flight, with three different legs on her journey, but we were all buzzed to be with each other, knowing we were going to be having a real winter Christmas in a few days time. We spent that day in the city, window shopping and braving the crowds to experience Rockefeller’s Christmas tree. My dear friend Tenaya was housesitting an apartment in Brooklyn, so we were able to park our car near her place for the day. We met back up with her later that evening for a drink in Times Square and hot meal at the markets in Union Square before heading back out to Connecticut.

 

The lead up to the big day consisted of shopping, visiting family and friends, drinking, cooking and eating– in no specific order.

 

Christmas came and went, same as it does every year. Kelsey’s flight left NYC on the 28th to take her home to Australia, so we had one last hurrah in the city before she departed. Tenaya let us bring our mattress from the van up to her apartment. We had a lovely evening out, drinking cocktails at a rooftop bar that overlooked all of Manhattan. If anyone read or heard about the electrical explosion that happened in Queens and made the sky turn blue… yep, we witnessed that from the rooftop bar. I mean it when I say the whole sky went bright blue, turned purple, grey, black, back to blue. Each wall of this bar was made of glass, it was quite the spectacle.

 

 

The next morning Tenaya took us to the best little coffee and breaky spot in Williamsburg, which we pretty much discovered to be an Aussie café. A jar of Vegemite was spotted on a shelf behind the coffee machine, the barista spoke with an Aussie accent and not to mention the coffee and smashed avo was well and truly, soaring above average.

A quick drop off for Kels at the airport, as Abel and I headed due South, into Asbury Park, NJ. Apparently where Bruce Springsteen got his big name, but apart from a meal out, we just spent the night and headed West.

Stopped in Lancaster, PA for an evening, then down into West Virginia where we spent the few days over the New Year at a campground. The actual site where we stayed was extremely primitive– only pit toilets, no showers, no running water. This was the longest we went without showering, I believe we made it five days strong. If a Planet Fitness had been close by, we would’ve made a journey out, but was a shower really worth a 1 hour 15 minute drive each way? We were fine.

This place was a whole lot of rocks, mountains and rivers– picturesque. Once again, Abel convinced me to step out of my comfort zone and climb up the side of an escarpment that yes, had somewhat of a trail, but a fairly steep and rocky one. There was certainly resistance from my end, but sure, I’m glad he persuaded me. The view always makes the height (somewhat) worthwhile.

 

 

While the site was on the low-equipped side, there was an office left open until late, with heat, bathrooms, running water, wi-fi and a smart TV. We were actually able to ring 2019 in a nice space, with some games, music, drinking and movies. Quiet, but a lot better than many other New Years I’ve had.

As we went to depart West Virginia, we started experiencing some car trouble– it wouldn’t start. There was no cellular service out there and although the office was officially closed for the 31st and 1st (yet left open for us) now that it was January 2nd, for some strange reason, everything was completely locked up. I couldn’t call AAA to have them come start our car. My poor mum, I gave her a call, said “Happy Birthday!” and then “Can you do me a favour?”. When the car had it’s batteries replaced while in Salem, the mechanic mentioned there was a missing tooth on the fly wheel that would need replacing sometime soon. We assumed that was the issue. After waiting in the cold for the mechanic to arrive, he came down to the site where the ambulance sat– terrified it was going to have to be towed up a wet, steep, narrow, gravel road.

He popped the hood, had a look, “turn the key,” he said, and on it went. An embarrassing relief to say the least.

Most mornings since then, we have struggled to start the car. Diesel tends to go sludgy in the cold, but we were still in the Northern half of the country and they use a special winter blend up there.

We stayed a night in Virginia and then headed to Knoxville, Tennessee where we spent a few more nights. I was pretty surprised at how cute Knoxville was, lots of variety in shops and food, the weather was warmer too so we could actually walk around and take in the feel of the city.

We made our way to Nashville via a pit stop at a campground for two nights. Nashville had an electric energy, that I can only describe kind of like New York City, except that it’s completely and utterly different. In no way is it similar– I just mean, in the way that a city’s ambiance can catch on so quickly.

This place was party central from the moment we arrived and it just didn’t stop. We parked over at the football stadium which is an easy walk across the foot bridge into down town. We ate and drank on a rooftop bar and on the streets below, open-roofed buses with drunk, screaming women trudged past, along with everyone on the streets, horse and buggy rides, bicycle pubs. Country music pouring out of every single doorway. Every shop on the main drag is either a bar with live music, or a boots shop. That’s about it. For two people who are certainly not country music fans, you cannot help but be when you’re in a place like Nashville.

 

On to Memphis. Where Abel made sure I played “Walking in Memphis” as we drove into the city. This place consisted of more car trouble– it was time to take it into a shop and get the flywheel fixed. We’d had enough of not being able to start her in the mornings. So we booked a room in a hotel near Elvis’ Graceland. Tacky as all hell, with three framed pictures of Elvis hanging above the bed (I mean, that’s absolutely fine with me, but still) and I kinda loved it. Until Abel and I convinced ourselves there were bug beds and we had to sleep in layers on top of the bed covers. We didn’t have any bites– most likely all in our heads.

 

Graceland was a dream. Elvis was such an influential figure, such a star, and his pad reflected what an icon he was. He put so much care into decorating and entertaining, everywhere you went, you felt his presence in there. Big deal for a big Elvis fan like me.

 

Since then we’ve been making our way to New Orleans and we just arrived… after another incident with the car. While the flywheel did need replacing, it wasn’t the source of the issue. The most recent mechanic wasn’t really to know, he didn’t specialise in diesel and we should’ve thought that one through. So she was in the shop the past two nights and we checked into another hotel, for two nights, in Jackson, Mississippi where there’s a whole lot of nothing. The glow plugs have been replaced and she’s running like a dream now.

Two days here in New Orleans and on Sunday we’re off to Cuba for nine whole days. Bring me that sunshine.

A.

PS. Here’s what our route looks like drawn out on the map

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,

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