848 kilometres, a long drive up the Hume highway, normally ten hours long, but increasing year on year with our boys. Last year it took eleven and a half hours with a new toddler and an infant needing play stops along the way. This year with a newly walking 14 month-old and a two and a half-year old who is potty training, we clocked 13 hours.
That said, at the end of our 13 hour we arrived in Huskisson. A seaside town on the south coast of New South Wales. The home of my wife’s parents. I’d call them the in laws but they’re more like friends. This is where we’re spending Easter, we were going to lay a floating floor but decided that 13 hours in the car and a few days at the beach before the cold sets in was a much better option.
What I’ve come to realise is that this is they place the boys will remember as adults when they think their childhood holidays.
Mine is a beach called Wallaroo in South Australia. We drove there in a purple, Valiant Charger which we drove down on to the beach. We stayed in a beach hut with no electricity, cooked pippies on a hibachi grill and sheltered from the sun in the mouth of a cave. My mother wore a bathing cap with flowers on it and taught us how to do somersaults in the sea.
Now we’re clearly not staying in a beach hut without electricity, but we fly kites on the beach, swim naked (the boys, not me) in the sea and see kookaburras in the tree outside, all the stuff of nostalgic memories. I wonder what the boys will remember about Husky?
Just thinking out loud. Happy Easter!