We set the km counter to 0.00 when we left Auckland and we will stop the clock when we arrive back home. I will give a 
free copy of the “Winners/ champions” book to the person who gets the closest to guessing the kms traveled on our trip. Leave your guess in the ‘leave a reply’ box on this blog. Please also leave you address or telephone no. so that I can contact you.
I feel like we are in a time warp outside of the box. We do not travel at the pace of tourist, there is no sightseeing and little eating of ice creams. We do not have the routine of the 9-5 but move as the book dictates, making sure we are not behind schedule – 3 people a week, we must get 3 people a week. Typing up the interviews consumes the evening but by the time 
Dylan has decided it is dark enough to go to sleep it is almost 10pm. A huge break though occurred tonight with some freshly purchased black material. The material was pegged outside over all windows that shine into his wing. He pulled back the curtain and exclaims “it’s dark!” Hurray.
I do not complain about our time bubble that envelops us. It is enjoyable to be out of synch with the other people around us. It makes life seem almost dream like. We are on a mission to make a book.
We are off! Goodbye comfy bed, goodbye daily showers, goodbye convention, hello adventure. The blue skies and sun that I had always existed in my leaving town imaginings isn’t in place but there has been no rain for the last 2 
hours so things might brighten up. I think we will be more acutely aware of the weather living in such confinement. The caravan is bulging at the seams with stuff we think we need. I have whittled down my clothes 5 times since my first edit. We have bikinis and gloves, as we will run into all temperatures. Hopefully more of the bikini kind though.
And now I am just sitting here unable to put into words the excitement and uncertainty that the unknown holds.
This week I photographed a lovely older couple, Alf and Rosetta, for an ‘At home’ shoot for Sunday Magazine. They 
are very much still in love, I think I would like to be like them when I reach 73. Every day at 4pm their neighbour, Joan, calls round for ‘happy hour’, which involves opening a bottle of wine and catching up on the gossip on the street. Their pace of life seems enviable in comparison to my own.
Alf and Rosetta have lived together in the same house for almost 60 years and Alf was born in this house. In one bedroom all the walls have been wallpapered in a beautiful 1970’s brown floral paper. When they gave me the tour of the house I marveled at it and mentioned the caravan. The next day when I popped round they had found a spare roll tucked away. I am so excited! I am now trying to find someone to wallpaper our caravan, a small but fiddly job. Matt reckons we need a pro, and as NZ House and Garden Magazine now want to feature our splendid home on wheels, I tend to agree. With only one roll to play with there is no room for mistakes.
Only 5 weeks to go until take off …
On 28th Oct we picked up our Pullman 15ft 1975 caravan and tentatively drove home. Our forthcoming trip suddenly felt 
very real, 101 days living like a snail. Much of the original interior is intact so we are buying into yellow, orange and browns for all utensils and materials. I have found some great original material for cushions and also some 70’s wallpaper. All we need is the brown dinner set.
We set off on a trial run last Saturday night traveling to Martins Bay (an hr north of Auckland). Our problems began with parking. We managed to finish with a view of the toilet bock while all the other caravans were parked the other way to gain full vantage of the sea. Matt almost jack knifed trying to turn round. We learnt from an old hand that full-blown domestics occur during parking of caravans. I just laughed hysterically which was of little help to Matt.
A beautiful day and evening ensued, with a BBQ, fine wine and a feeling that 14 weeks of this wouldn’t be at all bad. The morning was wet but the great thing about caravans as opposed to tents is that you don’t get wet. Hurray.
This morning, I photographed writer Emily Perkins, an inspiring lady.
