12th December 2016

It’s not easy getting a child to understand how annoying inane chatter can be.  Picture this – an idyllic morning hike – about three kilometres, nothing difficult – and the CONSTANT yap, yap, yap of two girls talking about utter crap – and I mean CRAP.  Miss 12, whinnying about being a tween and her brain can’t compute why her body can’t walk distance (WTF?), Miss 10 chiding her and telling her to suck it up – she’s two years older and well, mum is WAY older.  Husband is marching ahead like a Hitler devotee desperate to get away (he actually hid in the bathroom with me during our hotel stay as the girls were playing wrestle mania screaming like banshees and going on and on about bums and how there is always a bum or fart in one of their faces) and I remember a joke someone told me.  “Isn’t it hilarious how we wait patiently for our children to speak, then spend the next few years just wishing they would shut up?”  But we got there – check the view!

However, here in the outback the lesson shall be learned.  After the hike we opted for a cool off in the Ellery Creek Big hole – stunning (check the sunset pic from last night courtesy of the Husband) but we weren’t the only ones there.  A family of four adults and three toddlers (all around two) were taking a leisurely bathe until one of the toddlers had a brain explosion and went into meltdown mode.  Screaming and crying, amplified by the fact we were in a chasm and everything echoed, Miss 12 gets the shits!  “Argh how annoying is that baby??”  Seriously?  So now is our chance to explain how much we LOVE hearing about your butts on heads, how much it smells when one of them farts on the other and the constant raving on about bums and vagina’s in faces and the fact neither of them will get off the other one’s head when asked.  Karma – sweet as baby!

The concept of a seven week camping trip across the country, peeing on the side of the road when required, missing a shower here and there, brushing teeth in the bush with a water bottle and swimming in creeks is kind of mind boggling to a girl who was raised by conservative parents in the conservative eastern suburbs of Melbourne.  I had an incredible childhood.  We lived at the end of a court at the bottom of a hill that we used to fang down on our bikes, (until myself and Miss L stacked it and I thought she was dead) in a gorgeous house, with wonderful friends and trips to our Grandparents house in the stunning Riverina area of New South Wales in the delightful town of Deniliquin.  I went on to live all over Melbourne during my various stints at various uni’s, hotels, bars and flats.  But all of that is in stark contrast to this trip.  Prior to ten years ago, I had never been camping (with or without ablution blocks) so I am proud of how far I have come.  I do have to give credit where it is due though – Miss N & Mr B for that first camping attempt with  me at the Lion’s Den and Mr J for teaching me how to pack a camp box competently.

Some more gorge hopping yesterday, a trip to the stunning Ochre Pits where every different colour of ochre is available for ceremonies, an off road bush bash to what we were told were the ruins of the old Serpentine Chalet (ruins my foot – concrete slab is more like it, or according to Miss 12 – This concrete chalet sucks) – followed by a stint at the Glen Helen Homestead to scab the free WIFI (we did buy two beers each in the bar – not THAT scabby!). They were setting up for what looked like a rocking “Party on the Finke” (BTW the Finke is Australia’s longest river) so we opted to camp up the road at Ormiston Gorge – yeah – HOT shower – score.  Now, being the tight arse I am, I bundled the girls into the shower with me, as each shower is three minutes, so I figure I get a nine minute shower if we all go in together – tragic I know – but it was lovely – and culminated in me showing Miss 12 how to shave her armpits – scoff all you like at her age – but as I have said in previous writings, the girl needs it!

Some first aid administration to Miss 10 – it is ALWAYS Miss 10 who hurts herself – who was very brave, holding on (crushing is probably a better descriptive term) to her sister’s hand whilst I dropped Betadine on it, some “Dickhead Tonight” (all you Late show followers will get that one) and we were ready to sleep before the big next day …..

160 kilometres of dusty, red, corrugated road on the Mereenie Loop through Aboriginal Land to get to King’s Canyon.  If cellulite could have been removed by all that bouncing around for two hours, I would be the lead model in the next Victoria’s Secret runway presentation.

This was all proceeded of course by a lucky, and at the same time, ridiculously unlucky morning.  Over camp coffee Miss 12 finally spied her first wild dingo and stalked it for ages with her SLR trying to get the perfect shot.  A short way up the road out of camp, the same dingo was spied again munching away on the side of the road with some substantial road kill.  A rather large python was the lucky dingo’s breakfast.  Turning off to refuel at Glen Helen and holy shitballs the side of the truck flies open and deposits one container of our food over the road.   It truly was hilarious – food strewn everywhere and the box busted up like Rocky Balboa.  Miraculously, everything, other than one packet of pasta and the Husband’s beloved soy sauce survived.  Glass jars, packets, tins – it all lived!  Bit of a clean-up, some trusty gaff and down the road we go to the fuel bowser.  Of course my right plugger died in the process, but I was shown the “Outback Way” of fixing it – amazing what you can do with a trusty bread tie!  They will last until I find a Kmart.

So now we are camped at King’s Canyon Resort – no thanks to the snot nosed cow on the Reception Desk … silly girl … I have worked in this game long enough to know what all the looks Receptionists give guests mean.  Obviously completely devoid of a personality, she must have missed the lesson on what the term “hospitality” meant.  I’m not averse to paying what is required and I could have forgiven the fact the unpowered camping is extortionate and devoid of trees and shade, 100 MB of data is $4.95, a litre of milk is $3.20 and the pool area is not shaded and sports only ten plastic chairs, had our Receptionist not been so rude.   Barkly was amazing, and as far away from a city as this, yet far more hospitable.  Kids were stunned and learned very quickly mummy doesn’t tolerate rude Tourism workers – it defeats the purpose of offering a tourism product.

So we upgraded with a tenner to a shaded, powered site – and I am going to charge the shit out of everything electrical we have and do two loads of washing on a hot cycle.  Then I will have a swim with Miss 10 and her new little local friends who thought she had the longest hair ever, pour myself a vodka, wash my hands of the rude upstart and enjoy a glowing sunset over Kings Canyon.