All the way to WA - Homecoming

 Day 20 August 12, 2023

 

In contrast to the excited chatter, the morning we drove to the airport almost 3 weeks ago, it was a subdued group who piled into our people-mover for the final time and drove to Perth airport at 7am today.

Zips were firmly closed on our bulging bags, and they were stacked in the final game of tetris in the back of the van. The doors slid closed behind us, and we navigated our way to the airport in silence. Wallsy and co-pilot Nicki, dropped the rest of us and the luggage at Terminal 3, while they drove on to return the hire car. This done, we grabbed our bags and proceeded to check them in before facing the scrutiny of security and settling ourselves into a café near our gate where we sought the solace of coffee and breakfast. Each couple at a separate table, there wasn’t much talk, just private reminiscing, or planning for the days ahead as we returned to our real lives.

On board on time at 9am ready for push back at 9:30, we reached for our books and settled in for the 3-hour flight. Food was served and everything proceeded smoothly, well there were a couple of minor bumps, but nothing that had us gripping our seats or taking the brace position.

We arrived in chilly Melbourne, a mere 12 degrees, on time at 2:30pm, taxied and disembarked efficiently. Following the lengthy walk to the T4 baggage claim, we quickly retrieved our luggage, said goodbye to the Renfrey’s,  the remaining 4 of us waiting for the bus that would take us to the carpark. As the boom gate closed behind us, we headed for home.

Home; I was definitely ready for home. I could picture Oscar bounding to the side gate to greet us with his excited, whole-body wag. I imagined the garden, with spring flowers beginning to burst open and I looked forward to sleeping in my own bed and showering in my own bathroom – it’s the simple things I miss when I travel.

The scene played out as expected when we pulled into the driveway. Oscar barked at the arriving vehicle, but then realising who was disembarking ran to the gate, tail wagging and greeted us with excitement and much sniffing, accepting pats from everyone in turn. It was the home coming I had been yearning for.

We farewelled the Rice’s and proceeded inside. We had had some warning while we were away of what we might expect when we returned, but nothing really prepared us for the shock of 44 empty alcohol bottles, all neatly placed back in the wine racks and the bottom of the pantry. Everything, from red, white, rose and sparkling wines, gins, whisky, liqueurs and even a bottle of sherry, had been drained. I was slightly embarrassed to realise that we even had that many bottles of alcohol in the house, but of course, many, such as the whiskies and gins had been gifted and we had just hung on to them, waiting for a special occasion to enjoy them. Well, our house sitter has enjoyed them on our behalf.

The house was cold, bark and wood scraps were piled around the base of the heater, the interior of which was full of partly burnt wood and a load of ash; the glass door, so blackened I couldn’t see inside. Beds were left unstripped, sheets unwashed; a visitor had used the single bed, so there were two lots of sheets to deal with. The kitchen was filthy, with fat splatter hidden behind a range of oil and vinegar bottles beside the cooktop and the oven was a greasy mess. I won’t begin to describe the toilet, suffice to say it was my first priority, requiring rubber gloves, and involving a great deal of scrubbing.

At least he washed the dishes, I thought, as I lifted cooking pans from the drainer, only to find the non-stick surfaces scratched from metal utensils and cooked on crud that required another very hot soak and wash to remove. ‘The dishwasher has at least been run’, I exclaimed, looking for something positive, however on closer inspection, it was so full and so badly packed that nothing was clean, and it smelt disgusting. Defeated, we both walked around the house, not knowing where to begin.

Fortunately we had alerted our neighbours, when we had received a less than satisfactory report from some previous unsuspecting locals with experience of the same house sitter, albeit after we had left said house sitter in charge and were well on our way west. At least we had been reassured by the Bond girsl of Scott Court, that the animals were fine. Every text interaction I had with him sounded normal and gave me no cause for concern. The animals all seem well fed and happy, certainly something to be grateful for.

So, as I write, surrounded by piles of washing, wondering which of the cleaning tasks to tackle next, I ponder the joys and pitfalls of travel. We have seen and experienced some amazing things, but for me, the greatest joy of travel is still coming home, even when the home you come home to is not how you left it!

 

Collateral damage!

Choose your house sitter carefully.