Strangers on the Road

Some of the strangest people I meet on the road are our own Solo members. I can’t comment about any of them, partly because I am probably as strange as any, but also because I have to see them again. It’s best not to alienate fellow travellers, though I am sure that many revel in their strangeness.

The strangers I want to talk about as people I meet on the way. I have found over the past few years that frustrated travellers, stuck at home and still working for a living, are keen to talk to me. Often, they ask to have a look at the layout of the van with a dream of doing something similar.  In Glen Innes recently, Ian was interested in the van and had a good look around. When I commented that my insect screen at the back had been put up and had fallen down several times, he invited me around to his place to look at his etchings – I mean to his work shed so that he could fix it for me. I spent a pleasant two hours talking to his wife and drinking coffee while he laboured in the heat to secure the screens. And they have stayed up, thank you Ian.

Last night in Cessnock where I was overnighting in the motel parking, I went to the Leagues club next door for a drink and company.  A couple of fellows, Michael and Terry, directed me to the café and invited me to join their Trivia team after my coffee.  I didn’t contribute much but I enjoyed their company for a couple of hours and together we sneaked up from third from the bottom to third from the top on the Trivia League. Unfortunately, we didn’t crack the $1200 jackpot for the last three very difficult question. I should go back next week when it jackpots to $1250.

I have tried to get to Toastmasters meetings along the way.  It is very rare not to be invited to park in someone’s driveway. Several times I have followed someone home and got very comfortable for the night. With these meetings, though, because they are usually in larger towns or cities, there is usually plenty of parking in suburban streets close to the meeting venue. With meetings finishing at 9pm or later, most of the residents are at home and it is easy to find a spot among cars in the street. Although we call it Stealth Camping, it is perfectly legal and, with my small motorhome, I fit easily into a parking bay and am not conspicuous. It is certainly safer than finding a camp spot out of town at that time of night.

Sometimes I meet the same people several times on the road but even fleeting contact in a camp can be interesting. Where I am at the moment (Kurri Kurri – I have circled back) there are a variety of people. A couple in a big bus with eight kids have been here for a few days. The kids are home schooled, apart from three who would be under school age. They are very good – really energetic on bikes and skateboards, racing around constantly – but they seem to look after each other and I haven’t heard a fight or argument. Unbelievable! Mum is a real earth mother with flowing skirts, dreadlocks with coloured beads, and unruffled demeanour. Dad plays the guitar at night and the kids have stories read to them.

After writing about my kids worrying (or not) about me, it was funny to see it in reverse. A bloke about my kids’ age, broke down and set up here in an A-van. His car was evidently not worth repairing so he was waiting for his mother to arrive. She is a motorhomer from WA, on the road full time. She is driving over the Nullarbor, coming to help him buy a replacement car and help with his belongings if necessary.  It seems a long way to come to do the Mother Hen act but most of us don’t need much of an excuse to change direction.

This is a wonderful life for people who watch people. It’s fun to wonder about strangers but, because I like to talk, I usually don’t have to wonder too long. It doesn’t matter much who people are, what they do or did in a former life, or how fleeting our contact may be. We can relax with each other, share as much or as little as we like and feel secure in the knowledge that we share a common life style. We’re all living the dream