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If We Took A Holiday...

McGarrett (the little brother) turned 30 over the Bank Hols (welcome to the life of a thirtysomething, you old git!) and it made me reminisce about what I did on my 30th birthday, all those many moons ago. Aaaah, yes. I was on an Australian road trip. With two young children. And one in utero. In an Australian winter. In a campervan. Without a toilet. Where’s that husband of mine again? Surely, another reason to high-five each other in recognition of our amazing plans that resulted in one of the most hilariously ridiculous holidays known to man.

'Grey skies, grey camper, empty beach carpark. The holiday starts here!...'

Ned and I planned our big Australian trip around a family wedding in Brisbane that year. The plan was to attend wedding, then drive down in our camper and finally reach Melbourne six days later. That was the plan. So I’ll give you a little geography lesson here, campers. Australia is fucking big. It meant we spent a lot of time looking at this.