Belle

The advert said “Franklin Caravan. Very Clean $3000. Mornington. 03 5432 1987”. Most of the newspaper ads listed all the attributes, sleeps four, three way fridge, awning, microwave, etc. I wondered if whether the owner couldn’t be bothered to expand or if it was so bad that cleanliness was its only redeeming feature. We were tiring of our caravan search and luckily for us, as, it was fine and had everything we needed.

The next day we towed the caravan back to my uncle Ray’s house in Horsham to spruce it up a bit. The taillights stopped working on the journey from Melbourne and we couldn’t ignite the fridge. I scrubbed and swept and polished all day, muttering to myself, “Clean! My arse, it’s clean!” It was filthy. Kev fixed the lights and got the fridge going. I filled up the cupboards with pots and pans and packed our clothes away in the wardrobe. We bought a fan and a microwave and my uncleRay leant us an Esky in case the fridge broke. “She’s a beaut!” I attempted in an Aussie accent. We were dead chuffed with our purchase.

Originally we wanted a motor home. But they were too expensive. A campervan was too small to live in for five months. So a car and caravan it was. It turned out well because unlike a campervan or motor home, you can pop to the shops with out packing up your whole house. We had plenty of living space, and it was much more comfy than a tent. The car we bought had to be powerful enough to tow the weight. It was a beast of a thing with six cylinders and enough boot space for an extra bedroom. It seems traditional for backpackers to name their vehicles, so we had Bruce the Beast. Thus the caravan had to be called Beauty, or Belle for short.

Off we went towards South Australia, planning to see the solar eclipse and Uluru (Ayres Rock). Fifty kilometres outside Horsham we stopped to check the tyre pressure in the car. That’s when we noticed that a window had blown out in the caravan. And the skylight had come undone and was flapping around in the wind. And that we’d lost the right hand taillight and the left indicator had stopped working. So three hours later, window fixed, skylight fixed down and new taillight installed, we set off again.

Two days later the registration plate fell off on route. The internal light broke too. The following week, we stopped by the roadside and the door fell off its hinge. I think Belle was trying to renew all her working parts so that eventually she’d be brand new.

Beauty and the Beast did us proud for two weeks great travelling around the outback. On the way back to Adelaide, a rear tyre blew. We skidded off the road and swerved around, flipping Belle upside down and ripping the bumper off of Bruce. Good thing we were only 30k from a town, and there were some kind workmen driving behind us. They took charge of untangling the car from the tow bar and replacing the tyre, whilst we stared in disbelief at the mess of twisted metal on the side of the road.

The chassis was precariously balanced on top of the caravan walls that had split their stuffing like old cushions. I think the wardrobe was preventing the whole thing concertinaing. Looking in through the broken windows, I could see our possessions hurled out of their storage spaces, lying scattered all over the place. A saucepan, a hairbrush, some cleaning fluid, a mug we bought in Uluru, our clothes all muddled up. The bed had torn away from its frame, the mattress springs bust out of the fabric. The fridge spilled its contents over the floor, which was used to be actually the ceiling. There was a stench of beer and food as the Esky had thrown its contents into the middle of the room. I climbed through the window and started to salvage what I could reach. Kev said sternly “only essentials, its too unstable”.

So Bruce and us limped on to Port Augusta. It was sad leaving Belle by the side of the road. The next day we returned to get the rest of our things. As soon as I got out of the car I saw a can of lager on the road, an unfamiliar brand. Others had got there first. The Esky, microwave, and fan had gone. The looters had also taken the gas bottle and the seats. They must have risked life and limb getting the fridge out too. Not that these items were probably worth much after been shaken around like popcorn. Scrabbling around we retrieved most of our remaining stuff. The flies unrelenting as always, loved us crawling around in the smashed up mango chutney and puddles of milk.

Three days later and we are still waiting in Port Augusta for the car to be fixed. Jeff the mechanic is a nice guy, but very busy and easily distracted. After a long day of washing the dust and beer off everything we are well and truly bored. We’ve done a bit of shopping, swimming and sunbathing. I’m finding it hard to think how to spend another day. I’m terrified we’ll still be here next week. Or even miss Christmas. Desperate to be back on the road, we’re just waiting, waiting and waiting. If I hear the town’s tourist advert one more time I will chuck the telly out the window. It just rubs salt in the wound. “You can’t go past Port Augusta!”

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Beauty and the Beast

Once upon a time there was a beautiful caravan called Belle. She was a lovely young thing but had been neglected by her evil stepmother and left in the garden to rust away. One day, the stepmother tired of Belle moping in the garden and decided to sell her. The very next day, a kindly couple came and promised to take Belle away from her dull life. The couple mended tended her aching wheels and patched up her tired exhausted brake lights. They washed and polished her so she was proud to call herself a caravan again. There was even a handsome prince, Bruce the Beast. He was a good, strong car who made sure Belle was always safe on the dusty roads. Soon they were all enjoying open roads and cosy campsites. But then one day, disaster struck. Bruce had been struggling in the heat and couldn’t go on any more. He skidded off the road dragging Belle with him. Bruce was only injured. But sadly Belle fell into a deep sleep and could not be woken. The kindly couple were both very upset over their beloved caravan. They made sure Belle had a comfortable resting place and left her in peace. Bruce was mended and they returned to the highways to continue their journey. But they will never forget their trusty caravan Belle.