If there are two things that have already driven us to premature insanity it’s those; too much stuff and unrelenting, unseasonal rain.

Even before we left on our first real day of driving, it was clear that we were drastically overloaded, and it was making us both anxious. The first bane of our overpacking were two Crane Hinge fold up bikes from Aldi, which seemed to be taking the piss as much as our friends did when we bought them, overcrowding the back seat like a pile of spare wheelchair parts. From now on everything needed to prove its value to stay in the car, and unwilling to be ruthless, Joe quickly found a place to buy a tow bar and bike rack to alleviate the pressure of the Crane Hinges.

We had deliberately allowed ages to drive down to Melbourne (about 3 weeks!) and the objective was to hug the coast of NSW and chill out by the beach in the warmness of January. Oh what a baptism of fire our first week turned out to be!

Our first full day was great, winding down the coast through Stanwell Park, Kiama, Nowra and stopping into Jervis Bay for a swim, a salad, a Corona, and to affix a bike rack to the back, allowing the two librarian-esk foldies to swing in the tail wind. After arriving at our secret camping spot in Meroo National park we planned to stay for a while to get use to the car and sort out where stuff should live within the car, if it was allowed to stay.

The next day was picture perfect - the stuff our entire trip is meant to be made out of – sunshine and blue skies, bit of exercise, a surf lesson, a bit of planning and general all round happiness. The following day was the antithesis. We woke up in what appeared to be a warm, dry shell, but further investigation showed that Joe’s 40 pound 7 yr old tent had turned into a small wading pool. It rained all day. After sitting around waiting for it to pass for about 6 hours, we thought we’d try to move on, and after packing up what seemed to be an endless array of soggy objects we belted down the 4WD track, back onto the Princes Highway and onwards to Batesmans Bay.

Batemans Bay. Like a coastal Dubbo. Lets not stop here.

With so much tethered to the exterior of the car, we burned down the coast to Bermagui. With all our camping gear drenched, we depressingly needed to check into a Motel, something we hadn’t expected to do at all in Australia, let alone on day 4. After a few ring arounds I finally got hold of my new best friend, Big Dave at the Bermagui Beach Hotel who offered a no frills room for the handsome sum of $35. Big Dave knows his frills. It was old school to the max complete with dust, dirt, mismatched paisley sheets and a Gideons Bible in the top draw. I ordered the Salt & Pepper squid from Beryl at the front bar and was somewhat surprised that she hadn’t managed to save time by just deep frying the entire plate. But Bermagui was dry and warm and full of Canberrians so we couldn’t complain. Maybe it’d clear up tomorrow and we’d be back to playing bitbat on the beach.