Last night we stayed at the Fraser Range Sheep Station. Mingling with other travellers, caravanners, campers, cyclists amongt them, made me realise how soft I have become.
I first backpacked on my own through New Zealand when I was 19. I have done a few trips – my biggest solo effort was 3 months across Canada from coast to coast.
And then I started travelling with Selwyn.
As you may well know, he has itchy feet and together we have backpacked Portugal, China, Russia, the Baltics, Central Asia and more. EXCEPT Selwyn like to eat well.
Admittedly in Asia eating out is easy. Easier that finding facilities to cook for yourself. And a Russian beer-tent is just THE place to be on a summer evening.
But last night we needed to cook our own meal in a shared kitchen and I had to think. It wasn’t just a reflex thing. (We had sausages, chops and veges BTW). I watched all the travellers’ classics of noodles and pasta and eggs and veg and was ashamed.
Then, this morning as I stuffed more dirty washing in the washing bag, ready for the laundromat in Kalgoorlie, I remembered stomping clothes in the shower as Dad taught me and realised that, while not so immediate, the laundromat was just easier.
Have I lost touch with my inner adventurer?
