We were on our way south for a few days in the bush. At last, a break. We were going to a house in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by peace and serenity. I had been really looking forward to a relaxing weekend after quite a hard month with what you could call a difficult boss, talking to you mostly by emails and screaming at you using capital letters. I was glad to get away for a well-deserved rest. Or so I thought.
We had arrived at the turn off as per the instructions. We were to take the middle road. I could see one leading to the right and one leading to the left but not really anything in the middle, unless you could call this rough looking track, all over grown and climbing right up the hill at what looked like a 45-degree angle.
I turned to my husband and said: “Surely, they don’t want us to go up there in this wilderness, do they?” George, more pragmatic than me and definitely more of a bushman than me, answered:
“That looks alright. Let’s give it a go. I am sure it will be fine. And anyway, that’s what the instructions said.”
Switching the car into 4-wheel drive, we inched our way up the hill. The grass was wet. It had been raining quite heavily. Then all of a sudden, we felt the wheels skidding. 4 high was no longer enough. George changed the setting to 4 low.
“How steep is that slope? Can we make it?” I cried with anguish.
“Of course, we can. I’ll let the car roll down the hill a bit and get more momentum.” Down we went, trying to stick to a path we could hardly see in all this long grass.
“Stop” I shouted. The mirror of the car was going to be jammed around a small tree trunk. “What was that stupid tree doing there so close to the path anyway.” I muttered under my breath, still shaking from the close call. Inch by inch we progressed and finally made it to the top.
It was breathtaking. A beautiful spot indeed. And there was the house.
I climbed up the few stairs leading to the front door. Suddenly, I thought there was something unusual on these steps. You could see through all of them except for that little spot I had happily walked over. I retraced my steps. I screamed: “snake”. That’s what my eye had caught without registering it.
“Don’t be a wuss!” said George cool as a cucumber. “It is only a tree snake. It won’t eat much! And certainly not you.”
I didn’t find that so reassuring but I had an urgent call of nature. I stepped into the house and headed for the toilet, breathing a sigh of relief. At least, it is not an outside dunny covered with spiders and goodness knows what else, I thought. By now, you can see I am a city girl through and through, definitely not a bush girl.
I lifted the toilet lead and screamed … again. Two beady eyes were peering at me. They were nice beady eyes, that’s true but what a fright! George came running. “What now?” “There is some creature in the toilet looking at me” George laughed. “You have scared the poor little thing to death. Come here, beautiful green frog. I will put you outside. Don’t worry about her, she means you no harm.”
Unpacking our bags, I reached into a draw and you guessed, screamed again. The linen was covered in little pallets of poo and I had touched it. Yark! So much for a relaxed break!
That’s when at the corner of my eye, I saw it, … running across the floor. A rat. This time I shrieked. “No, that does it. Enough is enough.” “What now?” There is a rat scuttering around.
“Was he long and grey or round and brown like a big mouse?
“More round and brown, I think”
“Don’t worry! It is a bush rat and they are clean animals. They eat fruit, grass and insects.”
“It’s good to know.” I said rather sarcastically. “I touched its poo and it is full of it in the drawers!”
“Just wash your hands. You’ll be right” was George’s answer, full of compassion … or not.
“Can you give me a hand? I need to move this huge cardboard box so that we can sit in the outside kitchen and enjoy the view in the morning.”
We both stepped outside. There was an empty trailer a bit further. We thought we would help by throwing this cardboard box that looked like it had rubbish in it.
I grabbed one side, which had started to break down in one corner. George grabbed the other. I had managed to lift it when all of a sudden, out of this hole, jumped more bush rats. They were bouncing off me, off me, … of course. I counted at least seven, scurrying as fast as they could into the grass. George, totally oblivious to it, hadn’t even seen one!
Why do these things always happen to me, I wonder?
Night was falling fast.
“We’d better start a fire before the temperature drops too much.” George said.
We walked back inside with some kindling and George got to lighting the fire in this beautiful old cast iron stove our grandmothers would have cooked on.
Soon, there was so much smoke in the room that it felt like fog. The chimney was blocked somehow! So, that night we had a difficult choice to make: have the fire on and open the windows or freeze!
The smoke was too thick. We had to get rid of it. It felt like smoke inhalation. So, you guessed it, we froze instead!
At night, we could hear little feet scurrying everywhere. I can’t say I slept much. Apart from pitter patter on the floor, the silence was deafening. I wasn’t used to this total absence of noise.
Finally, morning came. It was freezing but I was dying for a coffee. After breakfast, George was ready to go and explore the bush. At least, that is what we were there for.
We set out on a track, that led us to an amazing view of the river meandering 100 meters below. George wanted to take a picture of me in front of it. So romantic!
“Go back a bit. One more step please”
I felt something bite my leg. I looked down. I had stepped into an ant nest. But they were one-inch-long ants! Enormous, gigantic ants! And they were crawling up my leg!
“Get them off me!” I yelled with utter panic in my voice.
I must admit that I have never seen George move that fast.
That was the end of the trekking for me. Enough adventure already for the day!
But a few hours later, my leg, where I had been bitten, had displayed a very hot, hungry swelling. And it kept on getting worse.
George, who doesn’t worry easily, took a look at it and said:
“Better take you to the hospital” A few laconic words that made me feel even more worried.
So off, we were to the hospital, about half an hour away from there.
Everyone in the waiting room was talking about everyone else’s medical issues, talk about medical confidentiality here! I was ushered into a room and given antibiotics. The sister apologised for the lack of heating. Their system, although brand new, was having a hiccup and because it was the weekend in this town that boasted they have everything but you, no tradesmen could come until Monday!
By now, I was well and truly ready to go home. I’d take a cranky boss any day.
To exaggerate or not to exaggerate, that is indeed the question.
Life’s experiences are often far better than what we could ever imagine, as this is, actually, all true.