Happy Holidays

When I was young, every year we used to pile in the car and head 8 + hours up the Hume Highway to Orange NSW for our annual family holiday. Over the years the trip changed. The trip got shorter as we by-passed more towns and my brothers and I got older and needed to be separated in the car to maintain some sense of peace for my parents.

But - some things never changed. We always had the ice-cream container full of lollies, we took turns in choosing the music - generally Richard Claderman classical for mum and dad, Rolf Harris for the boys, Abba, the Village People and Olivia Newton John for me. We would stop for morning and afternoon tea - usually at a park, and have tea in a thermos and egg sandwiches.

I know these were stressful times for my parents. Packing the car was not a time you approached dad, and often there was silence as the years passed by and mum and dad navigated their way into and out of towns that no longer seemed to exist - just so they could get us out the car to have a run in the park (and probably a sanity break). As we got older the "what time are we going to arrive?" questions became more persistent. I still remember the trip when we ran out of petrol and dad had to walk to a farm to get some, and the trip where we hit a bird and his feathers cooked in the front of the car.

Although we had other holidays, even one in a plane, the trips to Orange probably had the biggest impact. The journey aside, I also have very fond memories of these times. The fishing with Uncle Bob and Aunty Bev, the trips to the Salvation Army Thrift stores with Nan (or a trip to the jungle), football in the big park, the Vet next to nan and pops, the snow on Mt Kanoblas and the chooks, the visits to the pool and sitting in the stands eating ice-cream and raspberry lolly pops, nan's chicken soup, pop's smelly pipe, the lovely smell of nan's hand cream that she applied every evening, and her rocking chair, the room with the three beds I shared with my brothers and the pink flowers in the garden out front.

Last year my husband and I bought a beach house. This was after many years of pondering what it would be like to have such a luxury and whether we would get bored of it or feel that we had our money's worth, or whether it was a better option to save our money and travel abroad each year. Well, it was one of the best purchases we have made. Probably should have done it years ago.

After some initial hard work to bring our little place up to scratch, a splash of beachy blue and white paint, replacing the mismatched furniture and crockery, and some cheery holiday snaps printed on our walls reminding us of happy times that we have also enjoyed abroad, we now have a second place to call home.

We now have two children, and the thought of getting on a plane to travel anywhere makes me break out in a stressful sweat. Even the thought of an eight hour drive like my parent did would make me cringe a little, but hoping in the car on a Friday night for a two hour drive with the children and dog in tow, and taking little more than our clothes to our beach house is rather pleasant.

I am now enjoying the memories we are creating for our boys. Ashley loves his beach house and I am sure Lachlan will follow suit. He like to stop and McDonalds on the way (and can quite competently recite the McDonalds menu), he talks alot about the tractors, trucks and farms, we listen the the wiggles, playschool and 80's music CD's, we see cows and the occasional wombat on the road, the Koala that lives around the corner, the echidna's that walk in the streets, the rabbits, the beach, the baby chino shop, the park, the rainbow ice-creams for breakfast and of course the special activities with dad - like fishing, squishing jelly fish, climbing the sand dunes and super grovers on the beach.

Sandy Point really has become our home away from home. We love sharing it with the company of friends, but most importantly, I hope that our home will bring our boys as many happy memories as my youthful trips did.