ringing in the changes

I have been quite remiss in updating my blog for quite some time now. I watched the movie Julia and Julie yesterday with Josh and remembered why I was blogging in the first place. I love to share the good things in my life and how I reached them, not only with those who read it but also to remind myself just how far I have come, fuelling my enthusiasm to keep dreaming. We all do have the power to bring our dreams into our waking lives…the last few months have been a mammoth effort to do just that.

To update you all, I have a dream of being able to travel in MY motorhome lol. To this end, I have been using my small inheritance from my dad to bring it into being. Being who I am I couldn’t simply go out and buy one already done; that would not only be too easy, the whole idea of putting together my dream would have been compromised because I would then have been driving around in someone else’s vision. Having said that, a lot of the interior design’s bare bones came from the man whose Nissan Civillian Bus I bought.

Starting from the beginning:
I was contacted by an ex who I believe knew I had that money, having been privy to the unfolding of the inheritance saga. He wanted to apologise (he said) for how things ended; he had been sorely misunderstood by me ( he said). Being me, I tended to doubt my own conclusions and allowed a ‘new start’, at least on a friendship basis.

It took him all of two weeks to bring up the bus he had bought, endeavouring to show me how he could buy me one like his, should one come up, and help me to put it all together. He had done (I have to give him credit here) an awful lot of research. He had found what he believed to be the best company for the conversion and designed a floor plan. I was happy for the help in sourcing a bus so I agreed.

Funny how I knew somewhere deep inside he was setting me up to buy the one he had. Something in me insisted he was broke and needed the money despite his ownership of a property. I am and always have been a naturally intuitive person. I had decided if that happened I would turn him down flat! Ha! Fine words!

Two days later he told me that his dream had fallen through, at least for the moment, and was considering selling the bus, depending on his next visit to his bank to ‘chat about the mixup that had occurred’. I won’t bore anyone with the details, needless to say he had made a mistake and was now in the throes of paying for it.

He said he wanted me to be the one to benefit because he knew how much I wanted my dream. I was not overly open to this idea and I gently mentioned that I didn’t want to take from him his own dream, being ever the diplomat and quite often to my detriment. Negotiations went on for quite some time and in the midst of it we somehow drifted into more than a friendship. I have to say right here and now I was lonely and wanted so much to believe him when he said he had been to counselling and now was ready to be a loving partner. Funny how we can fool ourselves eh? I have not been socially active for quite some time due to raising my grandson and the devil you know sometimes can feel safer simply because of life circumstances.. or at least it can be easy to talk yourself into that state of mind in times of vulnerability and self doubt. I longed for a partner to share my journey; truth be told my spirit was bruised from life and deeply weary.

Not to digress here for my main reason of blogging is to share with you my motorhome quest thus far!

I bought the bus last year, around November I think. Time is a bit blurry for me, its been such a stressful time one way or the other.
Next I booked it in with said company.. they were so busy I had to wait until March. I was told. The registration was due in early March so I asked them to let me know if they had a cancellation at any time.

In the meantime, this man and I had a parting of the ways. My insistence that I not be kept a secret in his life seemed to have the effect of pissing him off LOL.. my bad. His insistence on keeping me a secret made me feel totally unworthy in his eyes so I took myself out of his sight! Voila! Problem solved … I now had a bus sitting up on his property, he had the keys and I was struggling to make him give them to me! He kept saying it was fine up there, that our not being an item didnt matter .. blah blah blah, you know the drill I bet. Honestly my youngest son would have gotten it but this man had the nerve to threaten him should he do so. Being a mum I was never going to allow that!

Finally I had enough and I asked my lovely mechanic to come up with me and get it. I knew well that this would quieten down the (once again) ex. Funny how another large male does that with some men. My mechanic took it to the property he and his wife had. I was, and still am, so grateful for their friendship. We are never left alone are we? Not long after this happened, the doors to my dream began to creak open a little wider! The conversion company rang with the news they had an opening around 10th January! Wooohoooo.. I was so excited!
By the first week of January, I had the bus parked in my youngest son’s backyard and the process of transformation began!

I had gotten some quotes for the painting but then I had the idea that I could help my son get the tools he wanted to repaint his car while saving myself some money; so we did a deal. I supplied the finances for him to get the tools, with an offer of a little extra cash at the end for his time … wouldn’t take long I had been told by the ex..yay, lets begin!

We began to sand back the old paint where someone had painted on murals etc.. what a shock awaited us! The paint that had been used was actually housepaint and several layers deep. What I had hoped would take a day or two at most, to comeplete still wasnt complete by the time we took it up to be converted! My son, his partner, my grandkids, myself and my son’s mate all worked on it in the mid summer heat. One of the most heartwarming sights for me was one morning when I turned up to help to be greeted by the sight of my son and his family all working busily on the bus.. I can’t tell you how loved I felt… a beautiful memory money cannot buy and nothing can erase.. what a wonderful way to bring the love and joy I wished my dream would hold, into existence!
The amount of work that was needed was impossible to finish in the two short days we had before driving it up to Queensland but my youngest son did all he could, in pain from physical disabilities that I wont go into here.

As I only have a car licence, he drove the bus up with his friend and I as company, each in our own cars, to ensure he got back home in his mate’s case… to finalise all the details in mine; all in the stifling heat and humidity of our subtropical summer .. a long journey for all concerned.

We found the place with only a little kefuffle lol.. then it was time to pick out colours for the wood used to build the cupboards and the tiles on the floor! Also time to choose the colour of the cushions and, while I was at it, I ordered lovely solar curtains.. the finishing touch I thought! But hang on! I wasn’t informed that the mattress for my bed was four hundred dollars extra, that there were things which still needed removing that would add another three hundred and sixty. The curtains I thought would add another two hundred.. umm nope, wrong again. I found out later that it was more like six hundred dollars! arghhhhhh the bill was mounting and the money haemhorraging out.. however I was getting my dream and thats all that counted. The engineers certificate of compliance was part of it, that would save some money and time finding one after we picked it up.. all good!

My son travelled on with his mate to pick up his own mum from her return flight home, as Josh and I made our way back towards home .. we had all been on the road for more than seven hours. Josh and I were tired and sweltering from the extreme heatwave the east coast was suffering. Naturally my air con still wasn’t working in the car lol.. I pushed myself to make it back over the border into New South Wales and then looked for a little cafe in which to eat, drink and cool off. Just the thing was found with only one ‘scenic tour’ (my blonde dna will out!) at Tugun and so we took our time over our food, enjoying the coolness generated by the fan above us. The cafe was tantalisingly close to the ocean and it took all my self discipline to get back on the road instead of dashing down to breathe in the cooler, rejuvenating sea air. I really wasn’t looking forward to getting back in the car again. It was getting late in the afternoon by now; lunch was had around three pm and we still had an easy four hours to go, so I reluctantly grabbed Josh and went back to the car.

Traffic was a bit hairy, trucks speeding and bullying in their push to meet deadlines set by their companies. One sat so close to my rear I was afraid if we had to stop suddenly he would run right over us! Not a comfortable way to travel I’ll tell you! Not that trucks are the only ones to practice this dangerous way of driving. It seems to me that tailgating is an accepted norm by many drivers and I constantly marvel that there aren’t more fatalities on our roads. To think my ambition is to travel around by motorhome.. I wonder sometimes if I am more than a little crazy, a masochist, or both!

However my excitement at finally having the bus in for conversion totally enveloped my being with a joyful anticipation, all else pushed into the shadows of my mind. I was told it should only take three to four weeks before I could come and pick up my newly converted motorhome .. bliss! There would be nothing I could do now but wait for the conversion to be done!

Sorry its taking me so long to fill you all in on my journey so far but school holidays most definitely interfere with my ‘quiet time’ and so my ability to think is limited at the moment, though Josh is most definitely worth the interruptions 🙂 Consequently I find myself coming back and forth to my blog to add more of the story in between bouts of parenting.

Well the three to four weeks dragged on to six, making me anxious about having it converted and brought back home in time to register it as a motorhome, saving me money, not to mention ensuring we didnt need to travel on a permit! In the end, I had to push the company concerned to ensure my beloved motorhome was ready to pick up with just over a week to spare! Never mind, my excitement knew no bounds as once again my son, his mate and I travelled up to retrieve “her” in his mate’s car. The plan was that I would travel back in my motorhome with my son at the wheel. Until we registered her as a motorhome. I wasnt strictly licenced to drive it and besides, my son didnt really want me to ‘have a go’ on such a long and tiring journey, only wanting to pick it up and get back home as soon as possible to his young family.

Again that trickster Loki seemed to be having fun with our plans! I had arranged to pick up my motorhome around lunchtime Queensland time, forgetting we were on daylight saving in New South Wales. Naturally we made better time as we were now all travelling in one car doing a hundred and more where the speed limit allowed, instead of one motorhome and two cars all doing ninety at best. Not only that but the traffic was not as insane and we left early, all being eager to get it done and dusted at last!

I am a very strong minded woman and so my son’s mate and I occupied ourselves debating (I thought) the pros and cons of the different Political parties.. bad move Sandy! The mate was not given to being open minded and I guess as often happens, I was most likely coming across as too strident.. tis my way and naturally I supposed the mate knew me well enough to understand that.. wrong LOL.. ahh well life moves on. My son was driving as he didnt want his mate to have to drive both ways, may have been a mistake really as it left we two too much time on our hands to ‘debate’ hehehe.

Anyway we were early, the motorhome was not only not ready but took a further four hours from when we were supposed to pick it up for them to ‘fix’ their stuff-ups. Not all their fault, the batteries in my motorhome had apparently ‘given up the ghost’ so they had ordered me two new ones on my say so. I won’t go into the quiet depression I was slipping into as the money kept on rushing out of my alarmingly dwindling bank account. I was wondering if I would indeed have enough to travel after it was completed and my envisioned nest egg was no more. Tempers were a tad frayed and I was really upset at my son’s behaviour towards the owner of the conversion company mainly because it isn’t how I conduct myself, though in hindsight I can see why he reacted as he did.

I will not give them a thumbs up to anyone who asks me where to get a conversion done. A true pity because their work is really a cut above for the most part. Some aspects are a letdown but when is it not? It was the disorganisation and the admittance by the owner that ‘pick up days are always like this’.. not very professional and I had parted with an awful lot of money.. very close to thirty thousand in the end for that conversion, that decided what kind of feedback I gave to others!

On our way again, it was wonderful to sit up the front next to my son and envision my future travels.. me in the driver’s seat though lol..and once again my enthusiasm rose to the surface, all upsets at the unexpected expense and delays fading into the past where they belonged. After all at last I had my home!!!

Next my son resumed the painting of the bus till the paint ran out, yet to be refilled I might add due to yet more unexpected happenings!
Before I got my motorhome registered I needed to have it all checked over by my lovely mechanic.. almost two weeks later and three thousand, six hundred dollars later.. arghhhhh…we had the pink slip. I knew that my motorhome would be in A1 condition as my trust in my mechanic was, and still is, based upon the honesty and profesional efficiency with which he carries out his work. In the meantime I discovered the conversion company had not held up their side of the bargain in more ways than one! The compliance certificate I needed had NOT been done which in Queensland was two hundred dollars. Now I knew it would cost more because I had stipulated it be a New South Wales engineer that did it. I had the gas and the electricity certificates but no Engineer’s compliance and needed all three in order to get it registered. My sense of humour was by now seriously impaired and it seemed that at every turn my joy was being stolen from me through no fault of my own. I was beginning to doubt my dream, never mind the so called professionals I was dealing with!

I rang around while the motorhome was in the mechanic’s huge garage, only to discover there were no more than two left who were prepared to check my motorhome and give me the compliance certificate I needed thanks to the recent changes wrought by the RTA, effectively making them liable for the most ridiculous things and putting up the backs of so many. One was in Ballina, three hours north; the other was in Taree, three hours south!

Not good! Once again my son was charged with getting my motorhome and myself to the needed destination and once again I was in the bloody passenger seat, anxiously praying it would pass! We had to wait, the motorhome’s rego would be out and that damn permit to drive the unregistered motorhome down, would have to be gotten. Ahh well, grin and bear it.. that’s the Aussie way after all. Speaking of which I was certainly living up to the stereotype of the Aussie battler albeit unintentionally.

The date for having the Engineer to approve my motorhome was 27th March… almost three weeks after the Registration ran out! In the meantime the mechanic and his men were checking out every inch of it to ensure I would be safe when I finally went on a holiday in it. Thanks guys, I love knowing my precious vehicles are in your hands and bless the day I was sent to you. Not a lot of mechanics are trustworthy when dealing with a woman on her own, seeing her as an easy mark for them to rort.

Back again to continue sharing the creation of my vision, Josh off with his dad and peace reigning in my home for a couple of days.. I will miss him, I always do but its nice to have some time to do what I would like to.
It was touch and go if the motorhome would be ready in time .. no surprise, I was coming to expect there would be another hurdle, and along with my son, was becoming quite nifty at jumping over them too! The parts had to be ordered and the work ticked off so that the pink slip was kosher. My mechanic is very thorough and takes safety seriously, not to mention his licence to hand out pink slips. I could understand thatand applaud it too, knowing I would be very unlucky now to be let down on my travels by any vehicle he is in charge of.
We also needed to have a weigh ticket to prove its weight. All seemed to be going well. We were going to make it! Woohoo!!!

Well so it seemed on the morning before we needed to be in Taree anyway. There was a last minute flurry as it was discovered the second radiator had a leak and would need to be sent to the right place to have it fixed. I was getting really edgy now! It had taken a lot of sweet talking to get my motorhome in so quickly, considering the lack of options and the amount of people clamouring for the same spot!

In the end, the mechanic agreed to drive the motorhome out himself to the Waste Department and pushed the other company to ensure the radiator was done in time. He put it all together and drove it out; got the proof we needed. He used the trip out to give her the test run needed to be sure of the work and discovered that the side mirror HAD to be fixed or it wouldn’t pass.. sigh!
He is quite good friends with the guys we needed and talked them into staying open long enough for him to get the glass, cut it to size and fit it! Yay!!! We made it by the skin of our teeth. No way could we wait till morning as the appointment was at eleven am and the trip would take around three and a half hours to complete.

I was so very relieved and I reckon it saved my son from committing ‘hare kari’ lol. I paid the mechanic with tear stained notes lol,grabbed my son and made my way to the way to the car. We now needed to get the permit from RTA, something we could not do without that pink slip. As I rushed along the pavement my bag strap decided to part company from my bag.. typical. I found myself laughing uncontrollably, not sure even now if it was hysteria or genuine amusement. Ahh well. I scooped up the stuff that fell over a large part of the pavement and tossed it all back in, wrapped the strap around the bag and carried it like a purse. Nothing, and I mean nothing, was going to get in the way now!

We made it to RTA and waited in the line overflowing with a crowd of other hopefuls. We did however, find our sense of humour again, teasing each other and laughing as we watched in vain for our number to come up. My ever logical son took the time to fill in the rego papers, I was mumbling that he was being quite an optimist all things considered but grinning at him nonetheless.
Finally our turn came and we got the permit, hightailing it out of there asap. I dropped him off at the mechanics, thanking them profusely for all their help. I have to say they pushed really hard to help me make the deadline and I will be forever grateful for that. My son was busy chatting to my favourite mechanic as I headed back to the car. We would meet up at my place, have some dinner and a good sleep and start off early the next morning.. thats the plan anyway.
Another twist, but this time one my son engendered with my wholehearted agreement. He suggested as we ate dinner that we make a start that night. That way I would finally get a night in my motorhome, bringing back into focus the reason why I wanted it in the first place and replacing much of the angst with joy. How right he was!

We were laughing toghether as we tossed in things we thought we might need like pots, cups, utensils, bedclothes. Oh yes and COFFEE! Gotta have coffee lol. Water, milk …. forgot the food though LOL
It didn’t matter. We got going just on dusk and I doubt you could have wiped the smile off my face as I sat up front, anticipating stopping off at a caravan park so my son could have a cabin while I slept in my motorhome… oh yeah, life was great!

We didn’t end up stopping, the traffic on the highway wasn’t too bad and my son felt ok to keep driving. Before we knew it we were entering Taree, the time was around ten thirty and we were now tired, hungry and thirsty. We had been drinking lots of water along the way but I have to admit I was longing for a lovely hot cuppa, preferably made in my motorhome.

Well the thought was good. No caravan parks were still open and we couldnt even see a motel that looked to be receiving if you know what I mean. We stopped into a fuel station and asked if they knew where we could get some accommodation for the night and while I was at it, I bought some lollies for dinner. By now I was starving and none too fussy about what was good food or bad food; just as long as it WAS food!

The guy told us there was a motel back the way we had come. We would see a green light. They had a night bell, so with a sense of relief, weary now of the road, we headed back. Along the way we noticed there was a park with a sign saying that motorhomes were welcome but I didn’t have the water tank filled so I was just as happy to opt for some motel comfort. At least my son would have somewhere to sleep too that way!

We parked beside the motel and ventured up to the door. There was a day bell, a phone that wouldnt work, there but no matter how hard we looked we could not find a night bell! We hovered awhile trying to decide if there was a way to get them to come down before finally giving up and heading back to the motorhome. I was bursting by now, in desperate need of a toilet and, though I am not above squatting if necessary, where we were parked was far too open for me to take the risk.

After some discussion we decided to head back to where we had seen the sign for motorhomes, hoping there would be a public toilet to take away the discomfort. There was and with relief we each headed to opposite ends of the building.You wouldn’t believe it! The toilets were locked! By now I really didn’t care who could see. I shouted to my son not to come round and I did what I had to do… thank goodness no one turned up at that late hour.

We decided we would have to share the motorhome, my son wrapped in his doona and me in mine. We were laughing at the way things had turned out, so exhausted by now that I for one felt really light headed. Finally we quietened down to sleep, knowing that there were not many hours left in which to do so.
Isn’t it funny how your mind works? Here we are in a lovely, peaceful space with only the night creatures as company and my mind starts worrying .. what if someone nasty came along? I hadn’t had time to fix the locks on the windows yet. What if they broke in? I had a really stern talk with myself internally, reminding myself that if I were to travel, I would have to be less of a scaredy cat lol. Unbeknownst to me, my son was thinking along similar lines. Consequently neither of us fell straight off to sleep though you wouldn’t have known it as we lay quietly so as not to disturb the other.

I woke the next morning just before light. When I was sure my son was awake I got up and we began preparations to make a morning coffee. It was so lovely and peaceful, once again the magic of my dream enveloped me in a haze of contentment. We couldn’t use the electicity points due to not being able to plug in anywhere but we thankfully had a pot to use on the gas stove; we were good to go. This part of the trip was just heaven. I loved it, sitting in my motorhome sharing a morning coffee with my son and gazing out at a peaceful park; birds singing in the trees in the early morning mist.

Eventually we had to get organised, besides we were quite hungry now and needed to eat. My son fired up the motorhome and we ventured into town. The first thing we did was find the Engineer’s office, parked there and walked into the main part of town to search out that much longed for breakfast. Well we were at least here, the relief I felt must have been written all over my face. I know I was both physically and emotionally exhausted now, my son no better poor bugger. The effort had been huge to get my dream this far and so much hinged now on the Engineer’s approval. My motorhome had cost me so much more than I had planned but then this was something I had been dreaming of for so many years, putting it all aside to ensure my eldest grandson was not lost to my son. I would like to state here though that I do not regret one single moment I have spent raising my grandson. He is a lovely young man/child whose loving heart and ready smile has brightened my life.

He is fourteen now though and I feel its ok for me to begin to take some time away to explore more of our beautiful country in a vehicle much appreciated by a teenager trapped in a middle aged body that isn’t as comfortable with roughing it anymore.

We found the Engineer’s office, parked the motorhome right outside and went off to get our breakfast and coffee organised. It was still quite early and the office was yet to open for business so we occupied ourselves after breakfast by checking out the local Big W for bargains that would be needed in my motorhome. My son was determined to keep my spirits up, refusing to even contemplate failure. I paid for a hire car to make the day easier and, once we had handed the keys and appropriate papers to the Engineer’s receptionist, we headed off to catch up with dear friends of mine in the area. We would need to occupy ourselves until two o’clock and having light, supportive company was a boon for us both.

We laughed our way through the next two and a half hours, ending up at the local Yacht Club for lunch with our friends. While there I got a call from the receptionist to say the Engineer had finished already, a good hour sooner than expected. The motorhome had passed and was good to go! Yay!!! Next thing to do was get the green slip changed to motorhome status rather than for a bus and then find the RTA and register my vehicle. At this point, I was under the impression I could drive it under my car licence. I was in for a rude shock when we went in to register it. It seems that in our fair state, it was not legal. I had to now go for a Light Rigid licence!! I began to wonder if I was really on the right track here. It seemed as if one block after another was standing in the way of my dream being fulfilled. My son reminded me that I would need to learn how to drive a manual as well as get used to the size anyway, the only difference being I had to pass a test now. He also reminded me that it isnt a bad thing to have an upgraded licence. It could come in handy for many things.

I hate tests, always my own worst enemy whenever I need to take one. I have a tendency to get flustered and second guess myself, underestimating myself constantly. Ahh well, it would seem I would have to jump over another hurdle, this time of my own making. On the bright side, I would know I was safe when I passed. We travelled back home in a much happier mood, this obstacle little more than a bump along the road to completion. We still have to finish painting the outside but most of it is done and the weather isn’t playing nice. It is school holidays too and family memories need to be built of parents and children enjoying each other’s company, something that can’t be replace if you miss your chance. I am a deep believer in that being more important than any other dream, having experienced a different kind of childhood.

I am also in the throes of making sure the conversion company comes to the party and honours its quote. I want that television wire and I do not believe I should have be further out of pocked to have it. To this end I have consulted Fair Trading and fired off an email to the company, giving them two alternative ways of bringing our association to a fair and satisfactory conclusion. I am awaiting their answer as I type. For now I am going to content myself with concentrating on my health and peace of mind, trusting the Universe to come to my aid and bring about a just result.