Camping in Australia is a cultural experience. That is, it is a culture all it's own. You'd think it was a discount vacation option and you'd be wrong. At $35 a night just for a splotch of dirt 20 feet by 20 feet, you don't do this to save money. You'd think it was about solitude and "getting away from it all.". Again, wrong. It's about big communal barbecues on Thursday, wine tasting Wednesdays, and disco Saturdays in the camp kitchen.
RV parks in Australia are a hustling bustling, social, active community that are more buzzing that Oxford Street in Sydney on a Friday night. To manage one you must have a sense of humor (all types stay in caravan parks), be willing to repeat yourself 100 times per day (bathroom here, code to enter is X, fry up starts at 6, our children are not speed bumps), have long arms (to run the toy car up and along the map of the park in an effort to ensure you do not get lost in a space the size of your front lawn), and have a name like Dolly or Big Pete.
Everyone says hello, everyone has their name on their "rig" (like "Mella Yella" and "Old Man Mac" and "Jim & Julie's Jammin' Jayco), and everyone is up at 6am, which is not ideal for two twenty somethings who are up until all hours watching Lost from start to finish.
As the days go on we have begun to embrace this lovely way of life. We named our rig Sally Jesse Rapha-Camper and we are actively taking photos of it and with it as if it were the third person on our trip. On the way to the bathroom I had a great chat with Rich from down south. "What's under the hood there son," he asked me. "Oh, you know, a 2.4 liter twin valve double cam dual exhaust premium-unleaded loving engine there Rich," I told him. "Nice one," he replied. I have no idea what is under the hood but I do know that "engine" wasn't nearly enough information.
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