500km Hands Across the Water Thailand bike ride

One day close to Christmas I get a message from my cousin.. ‘today is the last day to sign up’. She is talking about a charity bike ride through Thailand with her business mentoring group. I had expressed interest earlier but was undecided. But this email made something click inside me. I did a few checks to see if I could organise getting my children looked after on those dates and signed up. Eek. I wasn’t sure what I’d just signed up for - but I knew I’d be riding a bike 500km through Thailand. And that I’d be needing to raise $5000 plus pay my $2000 odd fee (not including flights and accommodations before and after the trip) for the privilege.

Guess I’d better dust off my bike then. She had sat in my carport for a few years without being ridden. I checked if it still worked and all but a flat tyre, she was good to go. For the next four months, I’d be getting friendly with my bike. We would spend anywhere from an hour to three with each other at least three times a week. We’d travel the coast, we’d cruise down to Willunga, and we’d push up to Old Reynella on the Shiraz Trail. And when I couldn’t get outside, I’d pop her into a trainer and spin for an hour or so inside once the kids had gone to bed, YouTube running.

Now, it's Anzac Day, and I’ve just finished up my 500km ride through Thailand. I arrived home today, took one look at her then kept walking. I don’t mind not seeing my bike for a little while. It’s not that I don’t like her, it’s just that I’m sick of riding. I’m not a cyclist.

One of our pitstops between legs. A great chance to meet the locals in the rural areas.

I’ll get to the ride in a second but here’s what I learnt in the last few months in the saddle (yep, that's what the seat is called).

1. Padded bike shorts are your best friend.

2. So is bum cream.

3. Drafting helps get you further with much less effort.

4. Good conversation goes a long way to making legs (a term for a component of a bike ride) feel shorter.

5. When cycling all day in 40-degree plus heat, you can never have too much water and ice.

So… to the ride.

The hardest part. The heat.

I am not sure I can describe what it feels like to ride 7am until 5pm in 45-degree heat. The sweat pours off. The headache is near constant. Bags of ice melt in minutes. The hot wind does nothing to make me feel better. Waiting to push off, sweat dribbles from my neck bandana of ice down my back. Sweat pools behind the knees and dribbles into my shoes. Sloshing water over our head that has had everyone's hands in it is welcomed. Icy water being tipped over me only startles me for a second or two before it warms up and melds with the sweat.

The physical.

Riding 135km in one day in this heat is something I still can't comprehend how we completed. I think it is just a matter of pushing the pedals round and round like the song 'the wheels on the bus go round and round' but for a bike.

Taking it one leg at a time. Cruising while having a chat or pushing myself to keep pace - knowing that by getting to the next rest stop, I’d have time to sit in the shade and recoup. Attempt to cool me down, rehydrate and prep for the next leg. After all, it was only an hour or so in the sun at the one time.

With a buddy to rely on, and a buddy relying on me, we push on. Looking ahead, eyes up. Heck, sometimes we’d even have a chuckle. People fall. People pull out. People slow. People power on. Everyone suffers, or are pushed through, at a different level. Even the fittest of cyclist, the seasoned Thailand riders, struggle at times. People grow quiet, then silent. We all cope in our own way. The jokers quieten. We all agree, it isn’t the physical nature of the ride taking its toll on us, it is the heat.

Seriously, at home, we’d be cooped inside with air-conditioning blasting, not out wandering around in this heat. We wouldn’t even dream of exercising in it for just an hour - and here we are now riding all day in it. Crazy. But crazy with a cause.

The landscape.

From highway to dirt. We rode them all.

Each day is different. Some days we have undulations. Some days are flat. Some days are 75km, and we finish before lunch. One day is 145km, and at dusk, we are still riding. It is decided we have to cut 10km off our ride this day, to avoid riding in the dark. Safety first. Haha. That sounds funny… we can’t ride in the dark, but we can ride all day in this heat.

Early morning to late afternoon, we rode. I loved the legs before lunch before the heat set in.

There is a lot of farmland, burnt out paddocks and shanty towns. Flat (ish) plains turn into mountains, dirt roads and leafy sided roads. Highways thin to concrete single width country lanes to pot-holed dirt tracks. At one stage we have to dismount and walk our bikes through a section of road being resurfaced. The sand sinking our wheels as soon as we hit it.

Sometimes things were unexpected. Like re-building a road once the reccie had been done. No worries.

The riders.

Riders are from all over Australia and New Zealand, and one lady coming from the USA. We are used to all different temperatures. And our fitness levels are just as varied, as are our ages. Our youngest is 16 and the oldest is Dale’s dad in his 60s (from memory - eek). But one thing we have in common is our reason for doing it - to help the kids. And we all possess the mental can-do attitude that helps push us through our dark moments. We have one girl that does zero training through to our every week cyclists.

How do I go?

Good conversations make the km’s fly past.

Physically - I am fine. Well, apart from tingly toes and one pulled muscle in my left leg which voids that leg of doing any pushing up hills. It's nearly a week since I have finished riding and I still have tingles in my right foot.

Heat - so-so. I get heat exhaustion on day three and think I’m going to have a hospital visit. I spend the night barely unable to lift my head from the bed. I am trying to hydrate as much as I can but clearly not enough. After this night on my bed and head in a toilet I ensure I always have water within reach. I enlist a second bottle to stick in my back pocket while riding. That way I don’t have to ration. It helps. And when I get a headache, I drink even more, rather than thinking it’s normal. Obviously, there is no such thing as too much water on this ride. And I also eat more. More fruit, peanut brittle, chips and sweets. The first few days I was only stocking up on fruit during breaks - having more substance makes me feel better for the second half of the ride.

Riding into the Kanchanaburi orphanage on the last day completes the ride in many ways. Not only are we physically finishing it, but we are also seeing the reason why we have gone through all the pain right before us. Bright, smiling kids that are being given a chance of choice because of us are waving us in to the song of 'We are the Champions'.

The money we have raised through doing this ride will fund Kanchanaburi orphanage for a year. This orphanage that has given life back to over 50 kids that have, in one way or another, have no family to give them life. Spending a few hours with these amazing children is the best reward I can receive. And dancing with these energetic, happy souls in the evening is the icing on top.

Here is some video from 'in the saddle' of the trip... plus the wonderful night of celebration with the kids. Non, the child I was 'riding' for (when needing mental support on the ride we thought about a child we were helping) is a cheeky, small 12-year-old with an infectious smile. I loved meeting him and will remember his beaming face always.

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Celebration Night

TigerAir, Airbnb, Uber... where is Qantas, Hilton and the taxis?

The communal pool in the first Airbnb property in Southbank, Brisbane. A great area with BBQs, pool, spa, sauna and gym

Today I saw a post on Facebook, it went along the lines of... 20 years ago we were saying 'don't talk to strangers', 10 years ago we were saying 'don't meet someone from online alone' and now we are saying 'go find some random online and pay them to take you somewhere in their private car'.

It made me think about my recent trip.

I took my Mum and kids away. We went to Brisbane and Moreton Island. And I completely blew my Mum away with the use of Uber and Air BnB. Even TigerAir. Being more of a road trip and caravan traveller, she'd never heard of them.

Going to sleep with this view from FV by Peppers in Fortitude Valley

It used to be travel agents, hotel bookings, Qantas and taxi services. How things have changed. Now we can stay in peoples homes - whether it is a full-time holiday rental or a room in their home, use our phone to book a ride with someone who is using their own car to make money and book flights without the frills of yummy aeroplane food (haha) to cut costs.

It was the first trip where I have relied on mostly Airbnb and Uber. How did it go?

Well...

Uber works great. All the drivers I rode with were helpful, drove safely and got us where we needed to go on time. I like seeing where they are (even though that in itself can prove frustrating when they show up just around the corner but still take 5 minutes or longer to get to me), I can see a photo and find out about the driver before they arrive and at the end of the trip I can say thank you, goodbye and get out. No need to wait around for credit card payments.

Airbnb. It's hit and miss. I've had some great experiences with them - staying in some very cool Melbourne pads on previous trips. On this trip, I booked two apartments. The first was great - very good communication prior, during and after the stay, neat and clean and a nice vibe. The second wasn't so good - a lovely apartment but too dirty to stay in. I contacted the owner but her response was not to come clean (it seriously looked like it hadn't been cleaned for a few weeks with dust, mould, food bits, sticky stuff on the floor, soap on the shower floor) but to say that with what we paid she could not present the home 'impeccably clean'.

FV by Peppers, Fortitude Valley

Air BnB was very helpful. They communicated between myself and her and ended up giving me a refund. So, although I ended up having to book another apartment for that night at a higher cost - we had clean beds to sleep in and felt comfortable.

Would I use Air BnB again? Yes, I would. But I'd check reviews and communicate my standards a bit better before arrival. Booking through a hotel gives me more assuredness of some sort of cleanliness standards.

TigerAir performed well for us too. On time, friendly and, unlike previous trips, I was prepped for the bag weight checks at the gate (no more frantically layering of clothes). If only I had realised before standing in the boarding lineup in Brisbane that I had to go get my bags weighed and stickered first. After waiting for about 5 minutes another passenger told me. Oh well, we are all going to arrive in Adelaide at the same time, it doesn't matter what order we board.

Do I like the new way of travel? Yes, I like the options it gives. More choice. More convenience. And with more cost options, it opens up travel for more people. Or for people to travel more.

And I do believe that travel is the worlds best classroom. For all ages.

A little note from the world that never goes astray

Helicopter rides... and bucket list ticks.

What's on your bucket list?

I was showing a friend my list the other day and stopped in my tracks when I saw what #1 was. 

First on my list was "Helicopter ride". I stopped in my tracks because just a few weeks ago I did exactly that for work. I went on a winery tour via helicopter around McLaren Vale. 

I met Paul from Helivista at Fox Creek Wines, had a chat about photos then prepped for the tour. Paul took the windows off so I could get better photos while I wondered how I would go sitting in a flying bubble with nothing between me and the ground a 'major ouch' distance below. Before long I was strapped in, waiting for the chopper to 'warm up' so we could buzz up into the air. Guess I'd find out soon enough.

Headphones and buttons made it easy to communicate while flying, as opposed to shouting at each other and coming back with no voice. But I could never get the hang of pressing the button before talking. It seems I talked quite a bit to myself while Paul kept gesturing for me to press the button. You'd think I would remember after a few times - but no. Oh well, most of the time it was just 'ooh' and 'ahh'. 

The tours are customised, so we went to Sellicks Hill Wines and Serafino with a fly over the coastline. The water was clear, and we saw pods of dolphins splashing about. Turning around to get a closer look, the helicopter angled on its side so we could look straight down to the ocean. As we passe Maslin Beach and saw people wandering up and down, Paul joked that I should put the camera away. 'Ahh, come on, live on the wild side!' 

Seeing the land from above gave me a new appreciation. I have always loved driving through the area, but seeing it from a new angle is mesmerising. The lines of vineyards meshing with roads and rows of trees with houses dotted like odd grapes. 

Did I get anxious or fear to have the doors off? Not once. I only wish I'd done my jacket up from the start. It gets breezy and cool when you are up high and have the air cutting past you - even on a warm, sunny day. 

Should you do it? Absolutely. Ok, it's double the price (or something like that) to just a helicopter scenic ride, but I think you get a lot more value out of it. And you can make a day of it. www.helivista.com.au

In my pic above you will see a few other bucket list items. I am about to tick off Cuba next year too. Exciting!

Check out the little video I did along with some of my pics...

Tasmania - here I come!

Part of the Overland Track, Cradle Mountain, Tasmania

I'm heading south. Today I'm setting off for Tasmania. A three-day road-trip to Spirit of Tasmania. It's very exciting. I wonder how long that excitement will last? I mean, really, man and wife, two children aged five and seven, and a caravan? For nearly five weeks. I chuckle, and then try and get my breath again. 

We haven't planned much. But do think we will go via Mount Gambier and Warnambool. We've booked the overnight sail on the Spirit of Tasmania, then... rambles. Rambles until Ben starts the Overland Track hike with my Dad. I think I'm okay with that. I have done it. But gee, I love hiking and being surrounded by just nature. And hey, I'll get to spend the week with the kids. Eek. There are wineries around, yes? 

You know, when we planned to be in Tasmania for a month, I thought that would be plenty of time. Appears not. I'm already upset that we are only going to have two days around Bruny Island and Huon Valley. I feel like I'm missing towns I want to stay in. I want more. I'm already thinking we have to go back for Tamar Valley and Huon Valley - two places with not much scheduled time. Argh. 

Anyway, stay tuned. I'll be writing and posting pics to Instagram as we go. Tasmania - you are gorgeous. Can't wait!

Challenges and toenails on the Heysen Trail.

Ok, so technically, it didn't go wrong while on holiday - so it doesn't get in my 'things go wrong on holiday' list - but damn, it's a negative.

Fresh start on day one. Full of smiles. 

Dad wanted a challenge. He wanted to hike the Heysen Trail from Cape Jervis to Victor Harbor, normally a four-day hike, in two days. Just over 70km. 

I've never done more than 22km a day - and even that was a chore. Tired legs, same scenery and other hikers not enjoying themselves became a real mental struggle. I think I fell asleep while doing a beach meditation that day. While sitting up. That was on the Great Ocean Walk when we combined 100km into five days. 

Now I'm challenged to walking 35km a day, two days in a row. Over rough cliff coastline and hills that look like a Giants green bum sticking up in the air. A whole family of giants. I say yes, but never get too excited about it. In fact, I never even looked at a map of where we would be hiking until the day prior. That is VERY MUCH not like me to not plan and organise details. 

A good bit of the track, seems like a stroll, with views to KI and the southern ocean.

We set off early on Saturday morning and starting walking just before sunrise from the Sealink terminal at Cape Jervis. I'm jovial, nearly skipping along, commenting on how wonderful it is to be out in nature. But in the back of my mind, I worried about what I'd be saying 12 hours from now. 

One of the many stiles we crossed. By end of day two, it was a mission to step up and pull the leg over.

The hike started nice and easy, until Cobbler Hill in Deep Creek Conservation Park. I think we both let a few expletives go, but that was nothing compared to what lay ahead of us in the next 36 hours. 

It wasn't until Tunkalilla Beach that I found the terrain easier to handle. Two bung knees that shot daggers out whenever there was a slight decent, one ankle that was screaming at me to stop squashing it walking on the side of the hill and two big toes that I kept knocking on rocks while looking at what I could take photos of. (Note to self: stop and look, don't continue to walk while looking around.)

Finally! Some track not on a hillside. Instant relief for my ankle. Downhill - instant scream from my knees. 

The first day saw me nearly crying while letting out yelps of pain while descending valleys. I cautiously stepped one foot in front of another on  a cliff while seeing the sharp rocks and swell of ocean on the peripheral straight below the trail. Dad and I exchanged utter disappointment and exhausted awe when we rounded the corner and found he had told our support people to park in a carpark that was the steepest incline we'd had yet. And this was at 6 pm. We trudged up, I fell into the car, ate some chicken, the granny-hopped down the hill again to set up our tent and sleeping bags by the beach. 

I was set for a night of sleep that consisted of passing out from tiredness. But, setting up in the dark, meant we didn't realise we were on a slope. We both kept bracing ourself, so we didn't roll downhill. And, I had packed the wrong pillow - a u-pillow that was seriously more uncomfortable than clothes rolled up in a pillow case (which I normally do). But because I had accidentally left my thermals in the car heading back to Victor Harbor, I had to sleep in my clothes and had no left overs for a pillow. Yes, gross, I know. The first thing I did when we got back to Victor Harbor was shower - and then I felt half human again. 

See the road behind the house on the hilltops? That's where our dinner and tent were waiting. Not the most fun to realise after hiking 11 hours. 

Start of day two... just some ultra soft sand for a few kilometres. 

Day two, my body surprised myself by not being too sore. I could actually stand. We started with a few kilometres of soft beach sand, then climbed, with the assistance of the fence, a nearly vertical hill. We had the warning from a seasoned hiker this was worse than Cobblers Hill, Tunkalilla Beach. And yep, let your backpack pull you back, and you would tumble down to serious injury. The trail then eased, and we powered through most of the day. Lunch at Waitpinga beach was quick; any stop made my legs stiffen up like wood. Then we powered on. By mid-afternoon, I mention I should tighten my ankles of the boots up - my ankle felt strained and weak. In hindsight, it probably would have helped to do them up tighter from the start. Maybe my feet wouldn't have slipped forward as much, denting my toes. As the afternoon sun lowered, I felt myself tripping over more and more rocks. Screaming at one stage, I thought I'd broke it open. I didn't bother looking, though - what could I have done?

After the Tunkalilla beach soft sand, just a little hill to climb. I had to use the fence to stop me falling over backwards. 

By the time we hit the bluff, I was out of mental puff. I wanted to be the leisurely walkers out strolling with their dogs. I wanted to sit down - but didn't dare. I wanted a shower. I wanted my boots off. I wanted to be there. Dad wanted to walk down to my mum's house in Encounter Bay, but one step, another shriek, and we hobbled back up to a carpark to wait. My knees couldn't take it, and the pain daggers came fiercely. 

The shower made me feel half human while the nanny walk kept me appreciative of what I'd put my body through in the last two days. I warned my dad not to ring in the morning, because if I couldn't walk, I'd swear. The Funny thing was, he didn't call. He rang hubby and my mum to check in on me. I did end up calling him, though - I could walk. And he didn't cop an ear bashing.

But, that wasn't the end of it. Thinking I'd bruised my toes and toenails, I thought the pain would subside over the next few days. No. The nails turned lots of different shades of blue and purple, to the current state of purple-blue with smudges of black. Surfing a few days ago didn't help either - bashing my toes on rocks just made the colour come out thick and fast. 

Would I do it again? No. Never. Dad said he wouldn't either. Hats off to his workmates that did it in 23 hours. Fark.
Am I glad I did it? Yes. It is a challenge I can say I achieved. I am fit enough. I am strong enough. Mentally and physically. And I love the time with my Dad. Sometimes chatting, sometimes walking in silence. 

How 'out bush' do you go?

And another beach. Waitpinga. I love beach walking - especially when it's harder sand. 

Z Ward with Adelaide Haunted Horizons

Believe in ghosts? Doesn't matter - Adelaide Haunted Horizons' tours are fun for everyone. It's a Saturday night with a difference. Check them out. www.adelaidehauntedhorizons.com.au

I photographed in Z Ward at Glenside (criminally insane ward) for them but did a recce at Old Tailem Town about an hour from an Adelaide a few weeks prior. The stories told, the ambience, the intrigue of not knowing what lies beyond the torchlight. It all leads to me jumping at someone whispering 'boo' while I'm standing up the back of the group in a shop. Honestly, I thought it is whispered in my left ear, the ear that has nobody standing next to it - but obviously not, when the guys next to me apologised. I could swear I felt the air push onto my ear - but I guess that is my mind playing tricks on me. 

Do I believe in ghosts now? Not sure. I can't say until I experience it. Would I go on a tour again? Definitely. It is so much fun, scaring myself in the dark while listening to stories that make me squirm. 

Seaworld with two tired little kids

Theme Parks. It isn't top of our priority list of 'to do' activities on holiday, but we manage to get some free tickets to Seaworld while staying at Gold Coast. So we figure, why not? The kids are getting up with the sun which makes us one of the first at the gate. We are up and ready so early we have time to go to a shopping centre on the way there, and then still have a twenty-minute wait in line before the gates open.

The park is a lot smaller than I imagined, but still plenty to do. We know we will be on somewhat of a time limit, with Ashton already yawning, so make a list of priorities. On route to our first show, we stop off to watch the dolphins playing with some guests in the water. It's fascinating for me, but the kids nag to move on after only a few minutes. It might be a quick trip to Seaworld at this rate, sweeping through each attraction every few minutes!

Dolphins are beautiful creatures, but I do wonder how they feel about being kept in small pens. As a staff whistle blows for one dolphin to jump out of the water, I watch as a pod swim around and around the parameter of a pen. 

One of my favourite attractions is the sea lion show. Entertainment for all ages. The kids (mainly) sit through the whole show, laughing and captivated by the story. I giggle away as the sea lion flaps and shuffles across the stage, down slides and through doors, in actor mode. 

Dora is on our list, as is the kids carnival area, but surprisingly, the underwater viewing area is a big hit with the kids. An amazing walkway, which is a bit scary for Belle to walk down (I don't know why), takes us under the water to see turtles, sharks, fish and all sorts of marine life. We end up down here for nearly an hour. It's busy, but with so much glass, it's easy enough to find a spot to watch. The kids squeeze in between people when they spot something and have to see the creature 'now'.

Just on three hours after getting in the gate, we are leaving again. We have seen only a small section of the park, slurped down iceblocks, flew through the air on the kiddy airplane ride twice each, and pulled a screaming kid away from stuffed toys at the polar bear shop. Our dear Belle fell in love with a white polar bear with a blue rug - but I couldn't 'bear' another stuffed toy in our house. Daddy also got slapped by our very tired and overstimulated little boy - probably for not letting him have another ice cream. Home time!

But, of course, we have one final hurdle. The shop everyone has to walk through to exit Seaworld. The polar bears with blue blankets are back. Argh. Belle goes crazy, trying to look at everything while I try to be cunning with attention-grabbing her to outside. Ten minutes later, we are out.

5/10 experience. Not because of the park, but because of our tired kids. 

Tips to remember for next time...

Perhaps best to do this at the start of the holiday - it's tiring stuff.

There are no swimming pools in the main area, so don't bother with taking bathers and towels. That is one less bag to lug around.

Get there early. Beat the heat, the crowds aren't as hectic, and the kids get tired easily.

Expect the souvenir shops, and prepare for them. Perhaps the kids can earn pocket money, and take that.

Don't take tired kids. It's no fun.

If theme parks are the reason for the trip, Seaworld Resort would be a good accommodation option.

Adelaide Haunted Horizons

My maiden name… 

I work with SATIC (SA Tourism Industry Council) and offer a door prize at each of their networking events. One lucky member gets me for two hours - and probably more enticing - gets some stunning images to use on their promotional collateral. 

Alison Oborn from Haunted Horizons was the lucky winner recently. Since I have never been out on a host tour, or anything like it, Alison suggested I come to one of her Old Tailem Town tours, near Tailem Bend, SA. 

Signing our life away...

One cool evening in April, I set out. We meet in the carpark of Old Tailem, I'm handed a torch, and told to sign my life away. 'We can't guarantee anything, and we need to know, that you know, you could die.' Mmm, lovely - what have I got myself into. But I stay on - all in the name of work… and curiosity now. 

The teetotaler owner of the house would hate that his house is what it is now… a pub.

Alison leads us around the old town, telling us stories of experiences that have happened, the history of the buildings - buildings that have come from all over the state, and even interstate. We only see a section of the town, visiting the railway yard, store, motor shop, pub, family home and church. 

Sometimes there is a man figure seen in torchlight, standing in the doorway or behind the truck...

In the shop, I get one hell of a fright. I am standing up the back of the group, torches all off while listening to Alison tell of stories about ghosts being attracted to women and hating gay men. In the complete blackness, bar the little red light of an infra red camera, I hear 'boo'. I swear I hear it whispered into my left ear, even nearly feeling the air brushing me ear, but upon jumping with an 'argh', the guy to my right apologises, and says he was whispering in his mates ear.

The shop where I'm spooked...

Did I see or feel any ghosts? No. Did anyone else? Perhaps. Two guys, sitting in the church, say the pew in front of them has been moved towards them, blocking their feet from moving - but no-one is sitting on that pew in front of them. Do I now believe in paranormal acitivity? I'm not sure. I'm open minded. And as Alison says, you never can say if you believe or not, until something is experienced yourself. Skeptics out there - even if you don't believe any one tiny bit about paranormal activity - this tour is great fun. History, drama, and tour by torchlight. Even though I'm disappointed to not have experienced any paranormal activity, I'm kind of glad. The drive home alone would have been interesting, considering it's now nearly midnight, I'm tired and have heard many spooky stories. 

www.adelaidehauntedhorizons.com.au 

BSKT cafe yummies, Mermaid Beach QLD

I spot a number of cafes on the way in, and make a mental note that coffee is not far away. Thank goodness. I see a place called BSKT on the corner, two doors down from our apartment. It looks full and bustling with energy. Another mental note, 'I must go there'. A social media comment from a friend in Adelaide cements my thoughts, I need to go there. A coffee buff, he says I need to go there after my run one morning.

So I do. We go for coffee, and sit out the back. To my gleeful surprise, there is a kids play area. Hallelujah. We have been entertaining the kids on holiday with no toys, and finally, they are away from us. Happily. I eye the food coming out, and wish I had not just eaten breakfast at the apartment. The menu has me wanting to eat again, but I resist. Just. I tell Ben we are coming back for food tomorrow.

Pancakes with raw cacao, blueberries and other yummy super-food crunch. Awesome! Sweet potato and quinoa fritters. Yum! This is my kind of food. Delicious AND healthy. The menu is laden with super-foods, coconut and protein, I don't need to feel ultra guilty indulging at this place.

We sip on lattes in peace, looking out to the whitewash of waves (while not salivating over the menu). That rarely happens. Ahh. Double whammy - great coffee and time out from kids.

Gorgeous Festival - a day away from our kids.

A date without kids, with my bestie, and our men. Wow. This has not happened since…. err… umm… I can't remember if this has ever happened since having kids.

Ben pulls me up for a dance to The Timbers, love 'em. We are doing our shin-dig-jive when, BAM, I cop a frisbee to the back of the head. While I'm still rubbing it, and wondering if I'm bleeding, BAM, the frisbee hits me again, on my forehead. Ouch. I boot scoot it away from the stage so quick, hearing the lead singer casually saying 'hope no one has got hurt'.

I'm shocked but I have to laugh about it. I'm one of those people who will walk into doorways or trip over a mat that hundreds of people have walked over before me with no problems.

It's 32 degrees, but by about 4pm, cloud has come over, and it's beautifully overcast. Perfect. We have squeezed in among the crowd under the shade of the big gum trees, and have found more friends. Band after band are on stage, entertaining us with the chilled tunes. And we don't drink too much either… with a wait of half an hour or more for the bar, who could. We are also not going to get fat here, lines for the food, which have half sold out by the time we get to the front, are at least half an hour also.

But you know what, it is a great day, and it doesn't bother me.

Nothing is bothering me today. We sit and chat, we sit and listen, we sip wine, we wander, we even giggle on the ferris wheel (Ben hates heights). Life without kids. Every parent needs to do this for at least one day every few months, I reckon.

Well, nothing bothers me until we want to go home. Our taxi driver this morning suggested we book the return home during the day, to make sure the wait isn't too long. We listen, but decide to book just before wanting to leave, purely because, we didn't know when we wanted to leave. We ring Yellow Taxis, they confirm our booking, and then we wait. And wait. And wait. We try to call back. Always engaged. We call another taxi company to book. They are engaged too. We call Yellow Taxis again. Still no answer.

We booked our taxi at 11.30pm, and by 1am, we are still waiting. It's getting mildly cold. Everyone else is leaving - minus a few who are waiting for their taxis also. We are growing impatient. I'm getting very tired. Ben is getting hungry and grumpy. We've had enough. We ring my besties mum. She comes to get us.

Teenagers. We feel like teenagers again, having to call our parents to come get us. Shameful… What a crap ending to an awesome festival. But hey, a day without the kids. Bliss.