The day had finally arrived. Well almost anyway. It was 5:30am. Yes you read that right, AM. As in early. It was even too early for the Sun. I had planned on leaving around nineish but couldn’t sleep. Not so much from excitement but in trepidation. My mind was constantly racing; had I thought of everything? Was everything packed? Was there something I hadn’t even thought of? and if there was, how would I even know to think of it now? Surely I was forgetting something... Oh yeah and the predominant contemplation; What the hell am I doing?

As I stood in the shower, my thoughts drifted back to the moment I conceived this crazy idea of a solo road-trip. I was watching a documentary on television about Mountains in England by Griff Rhys Jones. It was fantastic and got me thinking. I wondered why I’d never been to any of these amazing places. Why, in the thirteen years that I’d grown up there, the extent of my travels had been between my hometown of Olney in Buckinghamshire and our holiday house in Great Yarmouth in Norfolk.

I did visit Tenby in Wales on a school trip once, where I managed to climb up to the top of a giant rock on the beach. I say “climb up” cause once there, I couldn’t get back down again. My glory of being the only kid that made it to the top was quickly overshadowed by the humiliation of having to get one of the teachers to help me back down. But I digress.

Thirteen years and my parents never saw fit to show me the real England. The magnificent scenery and countryside that was on offer. In their defense, I would probably have been bored out of my mind at that age. Not to mention I was not a good traveller. I remember on one extended drive while on the motor-way, I had asked my dad to stop the car as I felt sick. In his wisdom, he told me to hold on as there was a road house up ahead. Some people just gotta learn the hard way... He wore it, along with his work colleague who was sitting in the front passenger seat.

My how things have changed. Now I love driving and have not once felt ill while behind the wheel. Except for that time I ate a seven layer cheeseburger from McDonalds. I kinda feel however, that had nothing to do with the car. I find while on the open road I am at my most peaceful. I can’t really explain it, especially considering I like to think of myself as a bit of an environmentalist. I think to me, the car, my car, represents freedom and a sense of the unknown adventures that lay ahead.

Anyway, this mountain documentary had affected me deeply. It was then I realised I had done exactly the same thing here in Australia. We had settled here in the outer south-eastern suburbs of Melbourne, way back in the bicentennial year of 1988 and apart from a couple of holidays in Queensland and some business trips to Sydney, I really didn’t know much about this place and how amazing it really is. In a flash my mind was set. I was going to explore this great land, my adopted home, Australia.

I think for a while everyone thought I wasn’t serious. That it was just another crazy idea I’d had and would get over it soon enough. That was until I started buying all the stuff I figured I’d need. Fold up chair, cooking facilities, gas bottle, spare parts for the car, hunting knife, new shoes... Ok so the knife was my ‘Rambo’ moment and I actually had no idea what I’d use it for... But it looked cool.

The one thing that stood in my way was work. I was in the middle of editing a series of commercials. When I signed on for the job, it had originally only meant to be for a few months. It was now reaching the one year mark and it seemed the clients kept wanting more ads. I know most people would kill for this type on ongoing work, especially in the film industry, but for me, it was soul destroying. Both morally and creatively.

The ads were to promote the dredging of Port Philip Bay. Something I morally opposed. It irritated me that when the job had come along, I was nearly broke and in desperate need of work. At the time, pretty much all of my friends told me to just take the job, that it didn’t matter. “Someone is going to do it no matter what, it may as well be you making the money from it”. All of my life I had declined jobs that I was morally against, even some really high paying ones. I was really feeling the pressure to “grow up and just do the work” as another friend put it.

So I did and I can tell you now that I never will again. Not only did the job go against what I believed was right, it was creatively vacant. It was affecting everyone. The producers tried exhaustively to spice it up and make it interesting but they were constantly being shot down by the client. There’s only so much of this I could take before it was reflected in my health. I was done. I set my date and let everyone know. If the project wasn’t finished by then, they would need a new editor.

It sounds harsh but I did give them two months notice. It’s not my fault they thought I was joking, then when they realised I wasn’t, that they thought they could coerce me into staying through various techniques. I would like to say I stood strong but out of a sense of loyalty I stayed on for a few extra weeks, until they were comfortable with a new guy. After pulling one last long weekend, I said my goodbyes and left the studio for the last time. I gotta say, it felt so good.

The next two days were filled with preparations, getting everything together and testing stuff out. I even made a check-list.

On the Saturday night I thought it may be a good idea to try sleeping in the car, just to see how it would be. I lasted an hour before returning to my bed in the house. I quickly blocked the event from my mind and replaced it with thoughts of “yeah, it’ll be right on the day”, meaning “when I’m in the middle of nowhere and I’ve got no choice but to sleep in the car, I’ll just deal with it.” It’s amazing how strong my will power is when it comes to denial.

I finished up in the bathroom, got ready and went out side to do some last minute checks on the car. This is when I realised I’d left the Sunroof open all night... Idiot! Thankfully it hadn’t rained and all was ok. I couldn’t help but think though, that maybe one of those eight legged, demonic creatures from the pits of Hell, had maybe taken up refuge somewhere inside. Visions shot through my mind of the nightly news showing my car wrapped around a tree because a spider fell in my lap while I was driving.

As I finished up with last minute oil and tyre pressure checks the Sun was rising, turning the sky purple, red, orange, then grey. What is it they say, “Red sky in the morning, shepherds warning!” Hummmm. For now, I thought, it all seemed good. That’s about the moment it started to rain. I shut all the doors and windows, including the Sunroof and was ready.

Finally, the moment of truth had arrived. I have to admit, there was a good percentage of me that wanted to cancel the whole thing. Thankfully stubbornness rules with me. I said my goodbyes to the family, got in the car and made my way off into the Sunset... Oops Sunrise... Ok, ok, dull grey never never.