Wombat Caravan Park and all is well.
I wish that some of you could have seen me behind the wheel yesterday. Driving ten American students through downtown Sydney in a roaring diesel minibus with a monstrous attached trailer. Mike, the only Canadian, was brave enough to act as navigator man (and suffer me silently cursing him every ten minutes). Even though mishaps were eminent, imagine the horror of trying to find a place to turn that rig around!
Perhaps our best mishap was missing the turnoff to the Sydney harbor tunnel because you know what that means—we were driving over the bridge! Before I really knew what the hell was happening, I came around a mass of skyscrapers to meet the bridge view, full on. Really, it’s the most extraordinary, and massive thing. I was immediately nervous with excitement. How does one drive over such a behemoth and NOT look around! I knew the Pacific Ocean was there, and the opera house, and the intricate and extraordinary harbor itself. Well, we made, it, then made a few more wrong turns, and then finally, 2.5 hours after leaving Sydney international airport, we arrived at Wombat Park—a meager 45 kilometers away.
Please stay tuned, my hands are still shaking from the memory…
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