Monkey-bum was to be cared for (and spoiled stupid) by BOTH sets of grandparents, which did ease my anxiety at leaving him...slightly. As my hairdresser said blithely "Ahh, he won't even miss ya! -you'll see!". I thanked her for reassuring me and rending my world asunder simultaneously.
Of course, because Murphy's Law is not just frequent but a full-time lodger in my world. At 11pm Thursday night, Gabriel decided to be horribly sick. Daddy held him and got vomited all over while I changed linens, clothes etc. I'm sure other Mums and Dads will be thinking "meh..happens all the time", but in his case it doesn't. he hasn't been 'sick' since he was a newborn, and that was far more posset than vomit. Naturally, we freaked out a bit (a lot)...and seriously considered not going away. As if we were going to leave our munchkin the first time he was ill!
Next morning he brought up all his milk too, but did manage to keep down a banana and didn't have any kind of temperature.
Many frantic phone calls and multitudinous reassurances from grandparents later, we managed to get into the car with mobiles switched to Defqon 4, and were quite prepared to turn around if he so much as sniffled. Phones remained silent until we got to Cowra when we were reassured that he seemed absolutely fine and hadn't vomited again.
On we went past Canola fields 1-58, past Canola mountain and wound our way to Gundagai and Tumut.
The landscape was so utterly green and verdant, it hurt my eyes. I had never approached the Snowy's from this direction before, and I promise you, this won't be the last time!
We finally arrived at Yarangobilly Caves House to find gorgeous accomodation, central heating, a claw-foot bathtub, beautifully appointed and equipped kitchens and dining rooms...you get the idea. It was a pretty big "Yay!: from us :-)
Like proper grown-ups we settled on the balcony with books, wine, chocolate and the evening song of the local birdlife serenading us. The Ranger had assured us that we could call home from the house phone, but we couldn't figure out how to get it to work...
Bright and Early next morning we had a quick breakfast on the balcony and headed off to the first of our caves. It's one of the youngest, only a million years old, and is 'self-guided' which does provide quite the thrill for those of us who've always wanted to be brave enough to be cavers/spelunkers but know without a doubt we'd be quivering messes in the first crawl-space. Anyway anyway,
It's literally 2 mins walk from the house.
Nothing like million-year-old caves to make two nearly middle-aged people behave like children:-). We swooped about and enthused drastically for about 20 minutes. I started up the 60 or so stairs at the end of the cave and suddenly realised there was deathly silence from Brett. I turned around and asked if he was all right...He was stock still and breathing heavily...and not answering. I shouldn't have ever watched 'The Descent" really. It's amazing the images and possibilties your mind can conjure in just a few seconds....The Cave Trolls got him! I just can't see the wound!....And then, in a moment straight from "take a pew" my husband very suddenly, and violently, vomited. And kept vomiting. About 2 weeks worth of ingested material is my guess. We made it out of the cave, and he assured me he was feeling rather better. I was equally sure that anyone following in our wake was going to feel decidedly worse after walking through that particular section of cave....Anyway anyway,
Brett decided he was well enough to do the other 3 cave tours, so we booked them in all on the same day.
Having discovered that the grand secret to the House Phone was as complicated as dialling '0' to get a line out..(grr), we also managed to make contact with Monkey who was merrily creating havoc and not at all concerned at our absence. I hate it when hairdressers are right.
We screamed up the mountain to our first 'guided' cave. The brochure required of us a 'medium level of fitness' for 141 stairs. Well OK, I am medium-fit surely?...The cave was beautiful. 2 million years old and equally impressive, if not more so than Jenolan.
However, halfway up the interminable stairs, Brett started looking decidedly green again. We rushed him out the last flight and he decided woefully that he was, in fact, quite sick and just needed to go and lie down. I filled in the time before the next cave with a book, some water, a picnic table and the company of a charming bubbling creek. It was lovely and serene and quiet, but our 'romantic' getaway was turning out to be rather more metaphorical than I'd hoped.
Brett mustered the strength to get up and drive me to the third and final 3 million year old cave, and the poor bugger waved me a languid 'pip-cheerio' before reclining the car seat and surrendering to sleep once again. I bravely ventured into the tour group solo. Of course, because Murphy and his sodding law are so comfortable in my world, this cave was absolutely and by far the most jaw-dropping and astounding of them all. I took about 300 photos of various 'mites' and 'tites' and my 'medium-fitness' negotiated the 280 stairs with ease...(which isn't quite true....but I did make it out alive so'snaps' for me!!).
Oh, I was also 'gently' persuaded to sing in two caves by extremely insistent strangers.
Upon my return, Brett thought he might be well enough for the 'short walk' promised by the brochure to the 'thermal pool'. The brochure is a lying scheming cad of a publication. Unless of course by 'short stroll' you mean 'long-clamber-down-side-of-cliff-3kms-along-a-river-and-then-a-super-long-vertical-ascent-that-will-well-nigh-kill-you-and-your-'medium-fitness'....
I managed not to collapse in a sobbing heap screaming for helicopter rescue...but only just.
After a day of climbing well over 600 stairs, I really didn't need a 2 hr Bear-Grylls-expedition when I was expecting a lovely evening stroll with my slightly-recovered husband.
Brett was, understandably, too wiped out for dinner, so he went up to bed and I had 2 minute noodles. We were both in bed by 8.30pm.
This morning, bright and early we drove through freezing alpine meadows, avoided hitting about a gazillion traffic-challenged kangaroos and wallabies and sped home to our little monkey-pumpkin (whom, I was sure, was terribly emotionally scarred at our absence and would be a fretful little person for months to come)...
Nanny and Poppy greeted us warmly and assured us that the sleeping munchkin was well and happy. He woke with an "Oh, it's you" enthusiasm and proceeded to find an an interesting toy. Damned hairdressers.
P.S Grandma and Grandpa Lockley now both flat on their backs in bed with the Gabriel/Brett lergy that I have so far not come down with....
