Saturday, 13 December 2008


I said here that I seem to have slotted right back into life in Australia without missing a beat. On further reflection, I think that statement needs modifying to:
I have become accustomed to what I can manage so that I no longer feel out of my depth.
Let me tell you what happened last night.

My sister was here for dinner. About ten-ish, I drove her home (she lives quite close). She lives on a road that runs parallel to the railway in the Blue Mountains. On the other side of the railway is the highway. I pulled into her driveway to let her out, apologised for not taking her right up the driveway because I immensely dislike reversing back down and waited for her to go inside. Then I waited for a break in the traffic before reversing back onto the road.

Now, those familiar with the Blue Mountains at about ten at night, will be very surprised at this, for there is rarely need to wait for traffic at that time of night. It turns out there had been an accident on the highway and all the highway traffic was being diverted along this road. Constant, fast traffic. It was dark and it was raining. And there was no way I was going to reverse out into that traffic. There were wheely bins on either side of the driveway so I couldn't reverse onto the council strip either.

My sister's property has a fence along the front with one gate for the driveway and another at the far side. I had a brainwave and decided to go up the driveway, around on the grass and out the other gate. I surveyed the front yard and decided it would be possible. However, as I turned off the driveway, I noticed in the beam of the headlights, a small Grevillea bush between too larger bushes. Just enough room to squeeze between the bottle brush and the Grevillea, I thought, and if worse comes to worse, I'll have to go over the Grevillea and buy them a new one.

The front wheels fit between the Grevillea and the larger bush fine. But as I swung around to go around and out the other gate, all of a sudden I was stuck. The car had swung around and over the Grevillea bush and become stuck upon it. What had appeared to be small, young bush in the head-lights was actually a small, very old bush with a hefty stump. The car, Mum and Dad's car, was stuck.

We (by now my sister had come outside to see what on earth was going on) couldn't reverse, we couldn't go forward, we couldn't pull out the bush and we couldn't find a saw.

The car was soon freed in the morning by my brother-in-law and Father. To my great relief we didn't have to involve the NRMA and there was only slight scratching on the underside of the car.

If only I wasn't quite so intimated by traffic...


Mike said...

dad thinks its you and that driveway. nothing to do with traffic, or being used to vanuatu - just you and that driveway.

fair point.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing the story Rachael. My pride might have stopped me.

And I find the driveway hard and almost never go all the way up!


Rachael said...

Ha! He hasn't mentioned that to me.