Wodonga to Melbourne

At 4am my body decided it was time to wake up. No good reason, but in the middle of a silent campsite, I’m wide awake with no chance of drifting off again. A starlit walk to the bathrooms and a pause to appreciate the absolute silence surrounding me. The early start isn’t ideal for another long drive, but I’m not too worried. Besides, the heavy rain and storms forecast for the night seem to have bypassed us entirely, and everything is dry for pack-up.

There are increasing signs warning of koalas, kangaroos and wombats crossing. I’ve already seen plenty of ‘roos and wombats, sadly left cold and decomposing by the side of the road. Logic tells me that there’s not a whole lot you can do, especially when you can’t clearly see them in the evening darkness. The animal lover in me is sad - it’s their bush we’re crossing with our highways, and cars can be fixed and replaced, not their lives.

Meg has messaged me and I can see her name on my screen but, at 110km/hr (or at any moving speed), I can’t check what she’s said. Glenrowan is nearby and I pull into Ned Kelly country to check how the mother-to-be is doing. Ailis is the sole reason I’m taking this trip, and the doula in me is excited for her and disappointed to know I’m likely to miss it. Our certainty in my arrival has been questioned by nature, and Ailis is showing signs of labour while I’m still at least 2 hours from Melbourne.

Glenrowan town centre is essentially a memorial centre for bushranger Ned Kelly and his gang. Every shop is decorated with the iconic armour, his bucket-style helmet the most identifiable. There’s a homestead to visit, a museum and a reenactment of the famous Kelly capture. There’s not an awful lot I can eat though, and so, satisfied that Ailis and Meg are okay, it’s back into the hot car and onto the highway.

Just past 4pm I arrive at cousin Robyn’s house. She and Phillip welcome me with a big smile, hugs, and a frozen vegan meal purchased especially for me. I’m restless from hours of sitting down and Robyn takes me for a walk around the park. It’s lovely to be back in the fresh air and I’m happy-snapping the statues and geese in no time. Robyn has a fun sense of humour and suddenly we’re posing with the statues and I’m halfway up a metal pole, clinging on while she takes photos of me. I might be adult enough to drive interstate, but clearly we’re both still kids at heart.

She and Phillip have prepared a lovely dinner for us, and my sister, brother-in-law, Robyn’s son and his partner join us. The company is pleasant and I learn all about Josh’s teaching school: pilates for kids. Moshe, my brother-in-law and Phillip talk politics, the women talk birth for a bit, and we all message my mother at home, who’s waiting anxiously for dad to fly home through a nasty Sydney storm. Between the food, the early wakeup and the longish drive, I’m starting to fade. Robyn has prepared a comfy bed for me and I all but fall into it, having long given up on my protestations of “I’m fine, really!” Sleep comes quickly, and it’s so very welcome.