Freedom on a whim

The Daily

FREEDOM is a wonderful thing – even on holidays.

For the past few years, older couples have told us about their new-found freedom.

Now we know what they mean. It’s similar to the freedom we had BC (before children), only now it’s the freedom we have PC ( post-children) – when they’re grown up enough to look after themselves and don’t want to be seen holidaying with their parents.

The kids would rather stay home and jam with their band, surf their home break, chill with their friends at the shops.

The price they pay for that freedom? All we ask is they take care of the dog and clean before we get home.

So, with two weeks holiday up my sleeve after working through Christmas and the new year, I felt like getting away.

I had not booked anywhere by November like most sane people do, and found myself in early January checking out every Flight Centre, JetStar and Virgin Blue email that came my way and scrolling through websites wotif and ubid4rooms for specials and holiday packages.

Even on the morning of departure for parts unknown, I was on the internet looking for last-minute holiday rentals, phoning caravan parks for cabin costs, and typing in random place names in the hope of finding affordable accommodation.

North or south, we didn’t really care. Agnes Water/1770, Kingfisher Bay Resort, Bargara, Lady Elliot Island, Tangalooma, and North and South Stradbroke Island were all on our radar.

In the end, at 9am, my husband and I threw a couple of overnight bags and a surfboard on to the back seat of the Commodore and headed toward the Gateway Bridge.

“We’ll call you when we know where we’re staying,” we told the kids as we walked out the door, and I suddenly had déjÀ-vu. I was taken back to 1996, as our young family toured Oz for a year in a Kombi and camper-trailer.

Whenever we would pack up the campsite and prepare to hit the highway again, our then five-year-old son would ask innocently: “Where we going today, mum?” I would always reply: “Honey, I honestly don’t know”, which put a smile on my face but left him a little perplexed.

Some of the best holidays of our youth were spent the same way: chuck a few clothes in the boot, put some dollars in our pockets and follow the waves. Nothing has really changed. I love the fact we took our chances this holiday yet found two great places to stay in northern New South Wales. We could just rock up at a trendy little restaurant when we wanted to eat and enjoy a great meal. We could drive in and out of little coastal towns, stopping where it took our fancy.

You don’t get that when you plan every holiday down to the last hour – with itineraries filled with activities, tours, and bookings.

Travel agents, restaurateurs and accommodation managers will hate me for saying that, but planning to have no plan on holidays can be a breath of fresh air. You should try it sometime.