After everything that had happened at Kalbar, we'd finally moved on. Not far. About 20 kilometres down the road to Aratula . We'd found a great little free camp behind the pub. There was hardly anyone else around, Wal and Cheech had plenty of room, and after the flooding, weighing and near-demolition of the caretaker's office, we were ready for a quiet day. No travelling. No big plans. No dramas. We were just going to hang around camp . Which, by now, really should have been our first warning. First, the jockey wheel situation After the weighing debacle, we'd been left without a usable jockey wheel. That afternoon we'd managed to get an emergency replacement from Mitre 10, but it wasn't rated highly enough for Maximus. Our mate Robert, who was staying in the van near us, had lent us his 8000kg jack so we could use that as extra support for the night. The following morning, we went and bought a properly rated 350kg jockey wheel . So we were sorted....

After deciding we were actually going to travel for a while, there were a few things we needed to sort out. Top of the list was making sure our setup was safe. We now had Maximus, who was considerably bigger than Loki, and Shaun was going to be towing him all over the countryside. We had a rough idea of our weights. But a rough idea isn't really good enough when you're towing a bloody great caravan around Australia. So obviously, we decided to do the sensible thing. And as we've established by now... sensible decisions don't always go particularly well for us. It started with a dog walk We were still staying at Kalbar and were out walking Wal and Cheech when I noticed a sign outside another caravan. I couldn't quite see what it said, so naturally I asked Col to go over and have a look. He wouldn't. Fine. 😂 Later, curiosity got the better of me and I wandered over myself. The sign was for mobile caravan weighing . Well, that was handy. Later when we took the dog...

 For months, we'd been waiting for our lives to settle down. Sell the Melbourne house. Buy somewhere in Brisbane. Move our furniture out of storage. Get back into a house. Get back to normal. That had always been the plan. Admittedly, the plan had taken a bit of a beating. Our first buyer had failed to get finance. Our Brisbane purchase had fallen over with it. Our furniture had somehow managed to relocate to Queensland without us. We'd tried auction. We'd decided to rent the Melbourne house out. Then, just as we'd given up on selling it... another offer came in. This time, we were considerably less excitable. We'd been here before. Contracts and offers were lovely. Money in the bank would be lovelier. So we waited. And this time... It happened. The house went unconditional. After everything we'd been through, our Melbourne house was actually going to sell. Really sell. No more extensions. No more waiting for someone's finance. No ...

Two weeks after going to the Brisbane caravan show just to have a look , it was time to collect our new caravan. We were ridiculously excited. After months of living in little Loki, we were about to have space. Actual space. Storage. A proper kitchen. Room for clothes. Room for Wal and Cheech. Room for Col and me to pass each other without one of us having to reverse. It was going to be magnificent. There was just one small logistical issue. What do we do with Wal? We were staying at the caravan park in Boonah at the time, and obviously we needed to tow Loki with us. Which meant Shaun, Loki, Col, me and all our worldly possessions were heading off to swap caravans. Our lovely neighbours Rob and Donna , who were in the motorhome beside us, happily offered to look after Wal for the day. Cheechy, however, came with us. So off we went. Col. Me. Cheechy. Loki. And presumably enough belongings to furnish a small country. We just didn't realise that last bit yet. Go...

While our Melbourne house was apparently still deciding whether it wanted to be sold, we moved again. This time, to Kalbar . By now we'd been living in Loki for a while. And honestly, we'd done pretty well. Loki was only 15 feet long, but he'd taken us from Victoria to Queensland, survived the mysterious fridge issues, housed us during our six-week stay in Sherwood and got us through our off-grid adventures at Narangba. There were two adults. Two dogs. And not a great deal of personal space. But we'd made it work. We still didn't really know what we were doing long-term. Maybe the Melbourne house would finally sell and we'd buy somewhere in Queensland. Maybe we'd live in the caravan for a while. Maybe something else would happen. At this point, we'd learnt not to get too attached to any particular plan. Then it started raining. And it kept raining One day of rain in a caravan is fine. You read. Watch TV. Make a coffee. Tell yourself h...