Back from the Gap.

Our cabin had some funky style

I sometimes worry that people who read my blog, or just a post here or there read something and that is all they know of me. When I write a post about feeling glum I just can't leave it there sitting at the top. It feels just too 'woe is me' and makes me think people don't know that I do, even on my worst days, look for the smiles.

There are good days rubbing shoulders with the cranky ones.

I didn't want to sit in Melbourne with fireworks going and remember the lovely night we had last year. I didn't want misery to be a guest at our picnic rug. So I told Mr H I needed to be in Halls Gap for New Years Eve.

He rang a caravan park and we got the last cabin available.


I love caravan parks, even though camping is not my thing. I love the community that they hold, the shared facilities, the good ones anyway - the pool, the park, the trampolines.

Where we stayed they had a band in the camp kitchen. The band were awful, the main singer kept singing Living Next Door to Alice, over and over but it didn't matter. The girls made instant best friends with a brother and sister from Germany. They ran around for hours, not speaking the same language proved little problem. We sat under the stars and watched the people bring in the New Year. People from all over the world, all wishing and hoping that the new year will bring them good luck.

Another family noticed how I had failed to realise that New Years Eve in a caravan park means it is illegal not to supply your children with glow sticks and sparklers, they walked over and gave both the girls some of their own. Happiest children you ever did see.

Our cabin came complete with a massive spa bath, which I checked was working extremely well and with flocks of kangaroos and emus at our door and one poor old Cocky that had seen better days but happily ate out of the kids hands.


Our days were spent on bush walks, paddling in lakes and chatting with friends and family.

We were so content for three days that I decided we needed to move there. When I mentioned this to my sister she asked if I felt ok, that perhaps I really wasn't quite alright still. I have never wanted to be in a rural setting.

Sometimes a place grabs you and pulls you in and makes you want to stay forever.

Have you got a place that drags you in, begging for you to return?