With no ability to purchase fuel for our lovely ‘Cheeky Van’ donated by Wicked Campers our predestination is in the hands of The Others. Wherever we end up, we children of kismet have no control over. We work a job, we are sometimes given fuel, we travel at a steady snails pace of 80kms an hour (most economical), with a caravan of people desperately waiting for the next overtaking lane trailing behind us. We then head in the direction of our next job, if we have one lined up, and if we don’t have enough fuel to get there, we travel as far as we can and hope for the best. This process, in the early stages of its trials was soon referred to as the “We’re buggered” stages. Wholly depending on the unlucky people around us at the time of our need to come to our aid. 
The previous night, a fuel station came to our assistance, so we tried our luck with a few more stations to cheekily see if they would be willing to donate a little fuel. Very quickly, we realized that this kind of donation is not possible without managerial approval and that the amount of time it takes to convince someone that “No, we are not joking.” and “Yes, we are for real” that it is only worth explaining ourselves if we are speaking to the right people. It is, to be fair, not the most interesting thing to have to listen to yourself day after day telling the same story, so we try out different approaches in different scenarios. Remember, we are on a mission of exchange here so we always offer to do some dirty work for our pleas of Cheeky Van juice. This time we tried a few petrol stations only to find that no mangers were around. We never did get a ‘no’, but we didn’t get a ‘yes’ either, it was more like a come back tomorrow, which is fine if you are not in a race against time to get to the next source of food before Anne and Gareth's lack-of-biscuit rage gets too overpowering and the contents of the van are tipped upside down in an oh so often failed attempt to find the packet of hidden crunchy delights, which you oh so want someone else to have saved away for a rainy day, only to find that someone else has already turned the van over searching for the ones YOU didn't hide. So this time we rocked up on the doorstep of a camping site just off the St. Helens Creek river and very close to the main road. Everything left up to chance, the place we ended up being in after draining the Cheeky Van of all its juice, was St. Helens Creek Caravan Park. Lucky for us that Lex and Merle, Col and Fiona thought our plan crazy enough to lend a helping hand in a time of need.
We pitched up tent in their caravan park and the next morning there was a basket of food, toiletries and jerry cans of fuel by our van. Cheers! In the manner of our trip we bleached down a caravan and Phil mowed a lawn as a gesture of thanks.
That evening, we were delighted to be invited to our first Aussie sausage sizzle, yum!
Great to meet you guys, and thanks for coming to our rescue!
While we were staying at the caravan park, this lovely lady from South America let us use the space in the forecourt of her service station (servo) to talk to her patrons and to collect donations for Book Aid. Thank you!
It was here that we were fortunate enough to meet our saviour, Cate Morris, who invited us to our next destination, Strathdickie, near Airlie Beach. Ah haaaaaaa!
To stay at the St. Helens Caravan Park phone 07 4958 8152 or visit the website.
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