The bell rings…another term over. I meet Bind and Cal in the playground and we walk home together. We’re chatting excitedly about our impeding road trip and what adventures we’re going to have.
We stop briefly to tease the mad, barking Rottweiler and snap imaginary pictures of his nether regions as he leaps against the gate. We laugh crazily until we get to the lane.
The banter all the way home is constant. Pauses are quickly filled with embellished and misremembered stories of past trips.
We’ve had our bags packed for a week and they are waiting in the hall. Mum will load them into the car tonight so we can get away early in the morning.
The TV is flicked on and the others flop on the couch, it's been a long term. They are all long terms when you're a primary school kid.
I’ve made my way over to our wall map of Victoria and am tracing our previous road trips with my finger.
As I trace the texta lines we’ve drawn in, I remember. I remember stalactites and stalagmites, gold mines, museums, long walks, scrap books, musty smelling hotels and cold toast breakfasts.
I wonder what we might discover about our state and each other on this trip.
We don’t know where we are headed. Mum will just drive, turning when she sees something that captures her imagination.
Mum wakes us all early. The car is packed with our luggage and we’ve all got our pillows in the car. I’m not sure why, we never sleep. The pillows cause us to niggle for space and draw imaginary yours/mine lines on the velour car seat.
When you’re one of three kids there always seems to be an issue about not sitting in the middle. There’s a lot of negotiation going on about who’s going to sit where and for how long. I’m thankful that Mum’s still inside because if she hears all this carry on she might just decide it’s all too hard.
Before the car pulls out of the driveway we’re all sporting corky bruises on our thighs and we know it’s going to be a long drive.