Unexpected Road Trip

"The traffic on F3 is slowly building up with most of the traffic heading towards Sydney" the radio announces. I close my car door and imagine myself being bumper to bumper, breathing concentrated exhaust fumes and staring eye to eye with other grumpy drivers who just want to get home. I reverse out of the camp site and shift to first gear. Perhaps I'll take the road less taken.

I congratulate myself as I drive down the side streets towards the Pacific Highway. There is hardly anyone on this route to Sydney. Local traffic lazily cruise along pouring out sounds from country radio; the odd biker zooms past arrogantly, beard flying, eager to join its gang a few kms down the road. I wind down the window to let the warm summer breeze brush my face, and smile at the still and quiet streets on a Sunday afternoon. I feel like I am rediscovering the pleasure of a road trip.

A multi-lane freeway now slices through the old Sydney to Gosford Pacific Highway. I never enjoyed driving on the freeway. While providing the most direct and time efficient route from one place to the other, at the same time this flat and concreted journey cut out the sights and the towns surrounding it. It is also where angry impatient drives takes their steam out on other motorists, snaking in and out of lanes trying to be just that meter ahead of the red hatchback. The Pacific Highway in contrast, is a very pleasant drive. Part of it is described as the 'Scenic Route' when you see the tourist drive signs on the Freeway. This two lane road swirls its way around the freeway, passing through a number of rivers, national parks and towns with odd names that I otherwise would never visit. These places are mostly rusty and antique, with population no more than 5000. I play a game with myself of pronouncing the names such as Quorrobolong and thinking of funny things that could be called Moonee. A name like Watanobbi puts an image of Star Wars in my mind while Kangy Angy simply just makes me laugh. This is really making the detour fun.

I deliberately drive at a slower speed and immerse myself in a cheerful mood as I cruise through the many national parks along the way. There is something romantic about roads lined with trees. It's an experience on the senses. Fluffy trees shuffle in the wind, their leaves rain down as they are detached by the movement. On a clear day, the sun peeks through the leaves forming light rays kissing down on my windscreen. The periodic glimpses of the valley or fields beyond the gaps of trees cause momentary excitement and I try soak it all in while still keeping reasonable attention to the road. Around the Muogamarra Nature Reserve the road zigzags down the hill, and the inward curves makes it the perfect playground for bikers. Every weekend groups of bikes carve through the road, chasing each other like swarms of bees before meeting up at a roadside café for a refuel before starting it all over again.

I stop at a small milk bar at Lake Macquarie to have a rest. I sit on a concrete slab facing the water. Passing pelicans and seagulls glide with the wind into the horizon. This definitely beats Caltex rest stations crowded with screaming kids and lost tourists. As my detour has turned into an unforgettable road trip, I am determined never to use the freeway again.