The Story of Saturday

Saturday was the day I decided to drive to Canberra to see the Degas exhibit that is currently on at the National Gallery there. This exhibit ends in March, and I wont be back in time to see it so it was this Saturday or not at all.

I decided to make a weekend of it, as I have not spent very long in Canberra in many long years, when you visit it you understand why, people go there for what they need then leave as quickly as they can, as Dad says, the best thing about Canberra is leaving. I booked a nice spa suite in one of the hotels and planned on doing a bit of driving for a sticky beak around town and a visit to the new National Portrait Gallery as well.

I’ve never been one to take much notice of what the weather is like, I don’t let it interfere with my social life or my planned activities as a lot of people tend to do, and seem to do more of as they get older. I’ve cracked mid 30s so I’ve jumped Hadrian’s Wall to mid-life so I’m getting older, and the people around me are getting older too. Oh dear, its too cold, I cant go out tonight, or its raining, I better stay in – not for me would this chorus be screamed.

It was supposed to be hot, we are - on the east coast - in the middle of a slight heat wave, yes its summer, yes it gets hot, so when the news said hot, I went ok, no worries, the cars got air conditioning.

I got up early on Saturday morn, packed a bag and headed off at a decent 10.15am. Its only 165 mins at a nominal hoon speed so I was expecting to reach Canberra at lunch, the plan was to have a bite, visit the Degas, do a bit of exploring then tea, and back to the hotel with a nice bubble and warm spa, followed by a little Rockwiz – sounds dandy. I was warmed by it, and fuzzed along, my mp3 blaring, voice in fine form (car singing is my specialality, completely tone deaf but I let it fly with relish once I hit the long Freeways of this country).

We were at half a tank when I left, so thought a little stop at Pheasants Nest for petrol, coffee, and a sandwich would be peachy - I had skipped breakfast, and I'd still get to Canberra around lunch time. This was just after 11, it was heating up, a little more heating up then I was expecting but I was not fussed, its summer. Coffee was truck stop craptastic and sandwich was mush but I had no delusions, it was just a fuel stop.

About 50km outside of Goulbourn the wheel starts to shake, subtly at first, I think the road is rough as the Hume is heavy with traffic, but the shaking gets worse so I pull over at the nearest bit of cleared side road. I am now in the middle of what looks like nowhere bush, its dry, there is no shade, its hot, its really really hot, the sun is beating down on me and the car at its strongest 40 + degree strength and I feel it as I slowly get out of the my cool air conditioning to circle the car to see what’s wrong. Front passenger wheel has burst. Right SS kicks in, I can change this, it can’t be too hard, I’ve never done it before but I am capable, surely. I get the manual out, though my little 4 cylinder gas guzzler is 19 years old, I keep the manual, I’m an instructions kind of girl. I’ve now been out of the car for 4.5 minutes and am officially drenched in sweat, my exertions consist of a circuit of the car, a scratch of the head, and a return to the driver side to read the manual. Yes I can do this.

The boot is opened, the bag, the rags, and the St Vincent de Paul bag of clothes I want to give away that’s been sitting in my car for 5 weeks because I haven’t dropped it off yet comes out onto the tarmac – cars whistle by at speed, no-one takes any notice of a lone Ned down from the hill in action. Up comes the carpet, outcomes the tyre, woops it looks a bit flat but I did ask them to check it last service so it should get me to a servo. Outcome the hubcap removal thingy, then the arm pushy pushy bit of the jack, it’s all laid out around the wheel, there is long grass, creatures are in it. I get scared of the creatures but not the tyre.

My makeup has melted off by now and is running into my eyes, mixing with sweat and my contacts and I have trouble focusing. Where is the jackie bottom bit of the jack, I ponder, it must be somewhere. I scour the boot for hiding places and find one underneath the light, clever, here it is. I take it out, move around to the tyre, and with the hubcap remover thingy I get the hubcap off – win. Manual says I should loosen the wheel nuts before jacking up the car, ok, I can do this. Grunt, grunt, push, shove, squeeze, wheeze, effort – no I cant.

Collapse.

Its very very hot now, my lily-white celtic complexion is burning, I can feel it melting off me, I am a Mc with blue eyes and very very white skin. Cosmetic counter vixens praise my whiteness every time I do the rounds of the department store bunnyvilles seeking the latest magic potion, can I sample it, freebies please.

I give in, I feel heat stroke coming on, I retreat to the car, and ring the NRMA;

Where are you?
Somewhere on the Hume Highway approx 145km from Canberra.
What town are you near?
I don’t know.
Can you see an emergency call box.
No.
I’m 145km, cant you just draw a line.
Ok, we will be 60 minutes.
Right ok, just tell my family I loved them.

I packed a sarong as I thought I might have swim at the hotel pool in the evening, so I take it out and try to set up some sort of shelter, but the wind is too strong. I lie down on the back seat, it’s a sauna inside but I only have the sun on half of me. Time passes. About 30 minutes later a car pulls up behind me, a nice middle aged couple get out, can we help you at all, we saw you earlier, then decided to come back and see if you needed any help as its so hot. I partially leap at them, sweat beads fly off me and land on them, they are clean and crisp, I have melted. I’ve called the NRMA but I can’t get the wheel nuts off, I’m not strong enough. He has a go, he huffs and puffs and puffs and huffs, he gets them moving, I smile. The jack goes under and starts being pumped up, I drivel gratitude, she shoves a cold juice down my throat. He looks at my spare and scratches his bald patch, I think I might just take that spare to the servo back the road a bit because I don’t like the flatness of it. I’m speaking in tongues, they ask me to come with them, I garble stay with car, she croons, its sweltering are you sure, they wont be long, we swap mobile numbers. They go.

I ring NRMA to cancel the call out, the operator thinks its amazing, the kindness of strangers, so do I, but I really cant focus more than hot, sweating, sun, burning.

Mrs Samaritan calls 15 minutes later, can you check your manual for what the tyre pressure should be, I mumble a number, its floating in front of my eyes, they seem to think it works so I let them.

I am now stretched on the back seat again with the sarong up to shelter my head. Another car stops, this time it’s a bloke coming home from work in workman clothes, he saw the sarong and thought I might have a baby in the car and its was too hot for kiddies, too hot for kiddies, too hot for Neddies. I smile dripping with black and blue and sweaty grim and tell him my tale of woe with Samaritans, as we chat Mr & Mrs S come back, he drives off.

Mrs S runs to me with a Lemon Calypso, a huge bottle of cold water and friendly smile, I collapse on the ground with gratitude sucking my ice block and watch as Mr S puts the pumped up spare on the car, bolts and screws, re-attaches and packs up. He tells me he is not happy with it and I should get all the wheels checked out at Goulbourn just to be safe, but head onto Canberra after that and get the tyre repaired on Sunday. I nod. Or my head drops, I dont know, I lost all feeling 45 minutes ago.

They have a daughter my age who they were going to meet in Canberra, she had driven up from Melbourne, all they could say was we are happy to help you out, we just hope that if something like this, on a day like this, happens to our daughter someone will help her out. I nearly weep.

They wouldn’t take any money, they wouldn’t take any gifts, but they wanted to follow behind me for a while just to make sure everything was ok.

I dragged the melted wreak of Ned back to the car and headed off with a massive toot toot and wave of gratitude – its now 1.30pm.

I sit on 90km, slowly hugging the Hume, praying for safe passage. After 15km, Mr & Mrs S pass me bye – sweet angels of the road, bless ‘em. About 35km later the turn off to Goulbourn is mine, nearest servo; tyre repair please? No sorry try Here. At Here, tyre repair please? No sorry try There. At There, tyre repair please? No sorry, try Around There. At Around There, tyre repair please? Yep sure, it will be two hours – go shopping whilst you wait. I'm still melting no it’s ok, I’ll just stick my head in the freezer.

I'm at the only servo open in Goulbourn after 1pm on a Saturday, its hot, I can feel the sauna wind blowing heat at me, I can see the tarmac melting as I wait. He exaggerates, it take 90 minutes, but I get two new tyres but I feel good, $170 poorer but good.

I head off again thinking I’m an hour away, I can still see the Degas today. I stick to the 90 km, as it’s a scorcher. I trundle along, I take the Federal Highway turn off, I trundle further, I pass Lake George. I have now stopped melting but am funny shaped. My water is hot, my head hurts but the kms are getting smaller and my destination is getting closer. 90km, 80km, 70km, 60km, 50km, 40km, 30k, 25km – shudder shudder shudder – oh my god, not again.

I pull over, deja vu, it’s on a slight rise, so there is no bush, no shade, no grass, just concrete and railings and lots of sun. I think its pushing 45 degrees out here now, its quarter to 4. The car circuit commences in dreaded anticipation. KABOOM Batman style, the front passenger side is flat again. The brand new tyre I got at Goulbourn has blown, the brand new tyre that’s done just under 90 km – gone.

I know the drill, I try again, I am really suffering now, I can see people with me telling me what to do but theres no-one there. Bits and bobs come out, the tyre we just took off the drivers front is now out of the boot, the jack bits and hub cap remover thingy are once again placed out for use.

The hubcap comes off – win.

I huff, I puff, I strain, I pain, one wheel nut comes off - win.

I need a rest, so sit down for a short rest and a drink of hot water. I get up to try again, part of me has melted into the ground, I don’t need it. The remaining three refuse to budge, I am someone I have never met.

Back to the car, back to the NRMA;

You called earlier.
Yes I know, its happened again.
Where are you?
On the Federal Highway.
Where abouts.
I can see a cross road up ahead, I think it says Macs Reef Road.
Ok, they will be 90 minutes.
Its so hot I don’t know if I will make 90 mins.
I know, lots of people are in the same boat.

I hang up, I circle the car a few times, I don’t know why, I don’t know what else to do.

I lie down on the back seat and pass out. Time passes, no-one stops, it’s now been 50 minutes.

The NRMA van pulls up in front of me. I stagger out, he offers me water, he is kind, he changes my tyre, tells me not to feel bad, when they tighten the wheel nuts with the machine even he cant get them off. The man at Goulbourn had the machine, the NRMA man had the machine - I have no machine.

He fixes me up, it takes 8 minutes.

I know Canberra is a ghost town on Sundays, I enquire about tyre repair as I am not leaving Canberra till I have a viable spare, he gives me the number of a call out tyre guy, it would be expensive but he’s just about the only tyre person around on Sundays.

I flash a melted stinking smile and head off, the 25kms are slow and uneventful, I am beyond any ability to do more than drive. Its now just over 7 hours since I left home.

My hotel is shabby but cool, the staff listen to my tales of woe, they are superb. My room is tacky, the lights don’t work, the air conditioner is wheezing louder than my 747 ex snorer bf (the wrestler) I cant sleep in here. I shower in rainbows then head back out for a bite. I ask the reception can they repair my room, they say no but will happily move me when I am out at tea. My gratitude lights up Black Mountain Tower.

Dinner was the worst pumpkin gnocchi I have ever had, but I devour the salad.

I return to my room, bottle of bubbles in tow, they have changed my room twice, as they didn’t think the air conditioner in the second room was good enough for me – the third room is perfect. I drink my bubbles, I watch my Rockwiz, I have my beautiful cold spa. I crawl back into my king size bed and dream the sleep of the just.

Ignorance is bliss.

I turn the tellie on in the morning to check the weather, it’s going to be 40 degrees again in Canberra today, it goes straight off again. I think I’m not going to drive back in the heat so plan to leave about 5pm as I don’t think I can live through another day like yesterday.

I am so sunburnt, my forehead, my ear, my arms, my neck.

I ring Dad to tell him my tale so I am expected. He says Victoria has burnt, 20 people have died, I think oh dear poor people and get on with my day.

I go to the nearest servo to find a tyre repair man, none are around so I ring the mobile man, he turns up at 12.30pm. I have once again been out in the heat of the day waiting for help for 90 minutes but at least I have a little bit of shade now and some cold water. He hears my sad song and is perplexed as to why the new one blew. He also points out that the Goulbourn guy has put the wrong size tyres on my car, so does a bit of replacement and swapping around, another new tyre and another $160.

Three tyres, over $300.

He is kind, and very handsome, I should of noticed, I didnt.

I mooch to the NGA, I see the exhibit, its an anti-climax, I don’t think even my favourite Goyas could do it for me today. I sulk across to the Portrait Gallery to sit in their café for a few hours, as I have flopped, I just want to go home. It’s so hot and dry, its unbearable outside, the rubber is melting in the trees.

The Portrait Gallery is dull, there is a performance piece by Cate Blanchett, I don’t get it, I watch it twice just because the room is dark and its cool.

I go back to the NGA, the galleries are separated by a concrete bridge, its about 600 metres across, flat and paved, I shuffle across it, its like I have run a marathon, I can barely walk by now. I just want to go back to my car, I just want to be at home. I am terrified of the trip back, if a tyre blows again I will break, I don’t think I could really go further if it happens again.

I loiter with vague intent till closing time at 5.00pm, I am not alone in the loitering as it is so cool inside.

I go back to the car and get ready for the long slow trip home. I grip the wheel so tensely my shoulders ache, I am too scared to stop anywhere, I am too scared to go over 90km, I sit almost in the middle of the road though I only take the slow lane. A packet of snakes and a bottle of water get me home.

The sun stroke, the tension, the drama, the heat, I know nothing, I hear nothing.

Ignorance is still bliss.

I go to work on Monday morning ready to share my tales of woe, my nightmare trip, my heatstroke and my sunburn.

I check the news as I have my coffee and I see it all, the photos, the pain, the agony, the death toll, country Victoria burnt on Saturday, people fought hard to save their families, their houses, their farms, a lot of people lost that day – so many people died that day. I sit at my desk weeping tears of exhaustion and empathy.

I thought my Saturday was a day from hell.

I am stupid, I am selfish, I am full of my own self-importance.

On Saturday hell was in Marysville, in Kingslake in Flowerdale, in countless other towns were people lost their lives.

Its 181 so far, they say there will be many more, whole families, whole communities; so many children.

I love this country with every fibre of my being, it is one of the most beautiful places in world. It’s a hard country. It gives so much to us, but it takes some back in the most horrendous and heartbreaking ways.

I am still weeping.