Finally getting around to posting some pictures, a selection of shots from Busselton to Ocean Grove.
Alex and I at the end of the trip, the big drive across the country, 3700km in total, a good number for Al.
Al is a good musician but his talents don't extend to opening gates. I had to get out and do it myself.
Sleeping in the passenger's seat. The Yaris is a good little car but not ideal for big blokes trying to rest before their next shift in the driver's seat.
Al harassing talking to Chris about his favourite subject, music. He managed to score an invitation back at any time. We stayed the night at Esperance before launching off across the desert.
An absolute treat when we got to Victoria was seeing the Birches who are nearing the end of their round-Australia trip. They were staying at Ocean Grove caravan park and we had a BBQ dinner with them before a lovely walk on the beach. They've had a great time but are pretty keen to get home after nearly a year on the road. I have been very blessed to be able to see or spend time with a number of my closest mates and friends over the last couple of months and Birchy fits that category perfectly. They were away when we made the decision to move so it was very special that the timing worked out for us to catch up once we got to Victoria.
Chris is another very close friend so the Esperance deviation was another bonus. We both shed a little tear when we said goodbye. Chris has already planned a trip to Victoria in January and has bought tickets to take Sport Boy to the Australian Open when she's here. There'll be some footy trips to enjoy as well only this time I will be able to play host.
Favourite Daughter and Sport Boy at the airport. We had a great family dinner in Mt Lawley the night Mrs Holt Press and Sport Boy flew to Melbourne. Favourite Daughter is heading back up to Halls Creek next week with a friend for her first big adventure in the Kombi and then hopefully we'll see her in mid December when she moves over here.
Saying goodbye to Mum, our first stop was at Bridgetown. Mum is a bit sad about us moving away, esecially Sport Boy. I expect we'll see plenty of her on trips to Victoria now that two of her children and six of her grandkids are living here.
Allied Pickford's slogan is "The Careful Movers". They weren't careful enough to send our mattress though!
While the bulk of our furniture and belongings arrived in the main container, the "Balance of load" did not arrive at the same time. Just a few items missing: Our mattress, sofa, dining table, microwave and plasma TV!!! They finally delivered the rest of our stuff on Friday night. Except for a table and at least one carton that is!! Mrs Holt Press is not impressed.
The first container being filled.
Sport Boy in his new school uniform.
Noel and Steph who did a fantastic amount of work to help us get ready to move. Noel repainted about four rooms of the house and Steph did a stack of cleeaning after the house was empty, plus they put us up for a few nights before we left. Brilliant generous hospitable people who epitomise faith in action.
The point of departure, Norseman.
We took a wrong turn leaving Adelaide but it took us past the place where I had the privilege of performing Daniel and Jana's wedding a few years ago.
Re-enacting a scene from my youth, hitch-hiking west at the Whyalla turn-off. From here the next decent sized place is Perth, 2000 odd km away. I hitched through here a number of times, and slept in the bush on the side of the road one windy night while waiting for a lift.
Bon voyage, Mrs Holt Press and Sport Boy about to board the plane for Melbourne.
This is "James Service Place" in Albert Park, one of the widest streets I've ever seen. Despite its size, we couldn't find it either.
Rock stars have a tendency towards self-destruction and many have died prematurely as a result of their own actions but John had emerged intact from that lifestyle and was living an idyllic domestic life with Yoko and their son Sean in New York. He had campaigned for peace and been pursued and persecuted by J. Edgar Hoover and Nixon who tried to have him kicked out of America. He had survived the crazy life of turmoil, mega-fame, adulation, the madness of Beatlemania, the drugs and parties and all of the excesses that went with being a Beatle, only to be gunned down on the streets of New York, shot in the back outside his apartment building by a demented "fan". It was a dreadful way to die and a sad and tragic waste of a life that shone brighter than most. Thankfully we have his music as a permanent reminder of his talent. John's music post-The Beatles was the best ot the four of them and Paul in particular seemed to lose the edge and brilliance he had had when co-writing and collaborating with John in the band.
When George became the second Beatle to die, of cancer, many years later, I felt sad but it had nowhere near the impact that John's death did. Perhaps John's death signalled the end of an era, the end of The Beatles and the end of the dream, the end of childhood and innocence. I had never met him, never seen him in person, but it felt personal, like a family memeber had been killed. I've probably had worse days since but not many and none of them stand out so clearly in my memory as that dark day in December 1980.
