So in every newly formed ‘hen house’ with chooks from different ‘zones’, it’s important that a pecking order is established… for survival!
From the ”Chook Roost” (Campervan) pick up Sporty and Gerry signed up as the drivers and perched up in the front of the van. So initially they thought they were No.1 and No.2 in the pecking order because they had established themselves and driver and navie. They took early control! Both of them, up front in the cab making decisions and talking between themselves. We couldn’t hear a thing in the back because the gas stove rattled like a 2-year-old trapped in a pots and pans cupboard.
Then all of a sudden, the van would pull up when we were mid conversation. Visibility in the back is also pretty limited so we had no clue where we were even pulling up.
Upon arrival into Hobart we all had our bags and crotches sniffed by government employed beagles, and no they didn’t find a random apple on me. The airport workers are very friendly down here, we got a big hello from the peeps at the coffee shop on the way out of the gate.
Hobart is a little airport that has cool Tassie icons made out of brass and beautiful carved wood seats. The “hike” over to Britz to pick up the camper was a fence jumping experience…. two of them! But once we got over there, Gerry and Sporty signed up to drive the Mercedes camper van. There were absolutely no arguments from Posh and I. We were quite happy to sit up the back and talk shit or sleep…. OR interject when some common sense and logic were really needed. Continue reading “Hobart Campervan Pick up”
Ok in a couple of day we have a ‘Domestic Travel challenge’ that hopefully creates some stories worthy of a bit of a yarn. I’ll introduce the characters in tick BUT, let me explain how this all started.
Firstly, we forgot how much fun we have travelling and how many stories/memories we seem to create out of it AND more importantly every other travel blog I’ve read is pretty mmmm BORING! They never seem to capture the language barriers and the problems that seem to occur with simple cultural differences. Like stabbing your sushi with chop sticks… until recently I had no clue that it was considered rude. Sorry Japan, I’ve been insulting you for years!