Chapter 23 "...Cheers to Closing One Door and Opening the Next"

…or not. The last two weeks of work that everyone expected were shortened to only a few days. After a day of only 3h work, and another of 5h, all at once Manbulloo was empty. Most fellow shed workers spontaneously notified the managers that it would be their last day and us last men (and women) standing spent  another two days with slow work and boring lunches wishing we had done the same… 

Looking forward to the upcoming visit of my mom and our plan to travel down the West Coast from Darwin to Perth had me planning and searching the net for a suitable vehicle. And lady luck did shine her glorious light upon me, as I opened gumtree.com and an ad for a campervan for sale right here in Katherine caught my eye. A visit to the campground, a short test drive,  the expert opinion and approval of several men (including a mechanic) and a session of filling out papers and handing over the keys on the Woolworth’s parking lot  later – I am now the proud owner of a 1993 (and that’s pretty new for a backpacker’s car) Mitsubishi Express L300 with a built in bed and camping utilities. My very first own car is a generic piece of junk, just one in a million white backpacker vans that cruise the few highways of Australia – and I love it! 

With a vehicle at our disposal and work prospect looking slim, my fellow Berliners and I decided to hand in our resignation and use our time before having to be in Darwin more wisely – Road trip! I wish I could say it was bittersweet leaving the farm on that last day, but it was just plain old sweet. We had already celebrated the end of the season with the others a few nights prior and were mentally already on the road, so walking away after our last 5 1/2h of work with a big bag of mangoes in one hand and our certificate (some ….) in the other felt like the delayed end of something we had long finished with. We had already said goodbye to everyone; Good people of which some I hope to meet again along the road or dealing with other fruit.  And Manbulloo Homestead Caravan Park  had become a ghost town. After nearly two months, I was itching, craving, longing to leave.

The first day of freedom was spent doing absolutely nothing, except for getting together in the evening and writing a to-do-list for the following days. I had to send in the papers to transfer the car into my name, we had to get some camping supplies and provisions and scrub my new baby from head to toe. And that’s exactly what we did. After loads of laundry, beating up on the mattress, wiping down the inside and out, cleaning off layers of dust and dirt from all the boxes and knick knacks inside, many buckets of grimy water and rolls of toilet paper, my piece of junk was still beat up and far from shiny, but at least it felt like I had banished the last bit of the previous owner from my new home on wheels.