![Wendy Sheehan, rangelands grazier. Wendy Sheehan, rangelands grazier.](/images/transform/v1/crop/frm/88uitQDCBZnXA8enwGJ5Zd/84171838-4ce7-4c8f-a329-8a4fc6fa58f6.jpg/r0_0_5472_3648_w1200_h678_fmax.jpg)
Those big city holidays beckon us out of our patch of mulga occasionally. Actually, that's a lie, they only attract my attention; the Boss has to be induced by either the prospect of a road trip through country he hasn't seen before, or a major family event.
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The chance of actually going increases markedly if you can combine the two.
I like to start with Google and a clear calendar so I can disappear down the rabbit hole of itinerary creation. I get the pleasure of planning a leisurely month-long meander before reality takes the wheel and we end up with a car trip, a return bus trip, a return flight and a wedding, to be completed in five days.
The idea of catching up with family is still great, and we have a last-minute call to action.
The family heirloom candlestick holders (that have been present at years of weddings) are currently residing between Winton and Boulia when they need to be in Adelaide, so they are ferried to Winton to meet a livestock carrier who hands the parcel on to us in Blackall.
We cart them home and pack them straight in the car for fear of forgetting them at the last minute.
They're taken out of their big cardboard box, carefully padded and packed into my carry-on luggage for the trip to Adelaide.
Airport security looks squinty-eyed at the X-ray machine and politely ask me to step aside before delving a bit deeper and finally giving me and the candlestick holders the all-clear.
From here on the trip is smooth flying, the requisite crying baby on board disappears behind earbuds (don't worry, it wasn't my baby), the touristy afternoon in the Adelaide hills is picturesque and warm with shops and pubs having open fireplaces, family and friends time is fun, the bride is gorgeous, the groom emotional, the candlestick holders stand witness with the wedding cake, and the wedding begins early afternoon, so the idiots who booked plane tickets back for Sunday morning are able to get to bed some hours before stupid o'clock, when they need to get to the airport.
After that things deteriorate a little. Our non-flying plane is replaced five hours later with a flying one.
Thankfully I'm able to reschedule our return bus trip so we don't miss the last one Sunday afternoon, but I did finally come face to face with a human who felt OK having a loud and private conversation while on speakerphone.
At least no bus passengers were left wondering about the other side of the conversation.
The mulga is looking pretty peaceful about now.
- Wendy Sheehan, rangelands grazier