8. Renovations of Marianne
It was in April of twenty, during the first lockdown, that I first saw her erect on a dusty sheep station near the NSW & QLD border. I poked my head in to ask if Andy was ready for a beer and was taken by the curtains. "I want this," I declared.
In August winter, during the second lockdown, I paid $480 cash—from bits and pieces sold on Marketplace—and she was mine. I named her Marianne, in honour of Gypsy Faerie Queen by Marianne Faithfull , and in honour of Leonard Cohen's Marianne, whose ethereal appearance on a Greek Island in a book I was reading had my wanderlust charged.
It was winter; I wore woollen jumpers, I sat inside with the canvas up and cleaned everything out, unscrewed all the doors, scraped back the crappy wall coverings, wore a dust mask. I listened to two autobiographies: Archie Roach and Clare Bowditch.
Spring teased, days were spent sitting in the growing sunshine of the verandah. I sanded back the doors and did coats of paint with the five samples pots I had decided on from Bunnings. When the samples had come to a total of $40 (I thought they might've been free) I quickly decided to stretch them as far as possible. It was to be the right amount of paint to do the whole thing.
These days were bittersweet. I missed my friends. I missed intimacy. I battled through my skin troubles. I read Sarah Wilson's This One Wild and Precious Life. I watched YouTube videos on tiny houses and how to live mortgage free. I formed new dreams; I gained new visions.
These days were bittersweet. I missed my friends. I missed intimacy. I battled through my skin troubles. I read Sarah Wilson's This One Wild and Precious Life. I watched YouTube videos on tiny houses and how to live mortgage free. I formed new dreams; I gained new visions.
A cabinet maker called Clayton was willing to help do the benches and table. It would cost me just over $500 and every cent would be worth it. While Clayton prepared the pieces, Marianne went to visit Irymple Canvas. She would have all her flywire replaced. Meanwhile, with the reopening of Melbourne and the state, I rushed to join my friends in Melbourne. For November and December I embraced my surroundings in the city and spoke of my grand lockdown project: Marianne.
It was on Sunday the 3rd of January that I hosted Marianne's official housewarming. Josh came over. Mum, Andy, Emma, Connor and Frankie came from the house bearing gifts. We ate a breakfast pizza and drank bubbles. Connor gave me a mortar and pestle and Mum gave me a basket. Emma made spiders. Josh and I drank wine, played Bananagrams and repeated how cool Marianne felt.
That Sunday the third would be my first night sleeping in Marianne. The heat left all the canvases down and from my Clark Rubber mattress I could see the stars above the sheep paddock. I woke in the first gush of wind coming through the night. In bits and pieces I slowly closed up the canvas to reduce the noise.
Emma, Connor and Frankie returned to Melbourne. I stayed on. With Western Australian borders once again closed, desperate enthusiasm to hit the road saw me confined to Marianne, wondering. But still there was the electricity, tap and piping I had to fix. I still had to organise Dan the shearer to attach the spare tyre to the front. I still had to overcome my apprehension of this solo expedition. What might an old camper trailer attached to an old car bring? I went to Melbourne: a final visit.
I spent days in the cool of Josh and Michael's kitchen, sorting photos to be scanned and continuing on with my forever-love of doodling future aspirations. I was ready to go. I didn't know what I was going to do. Mum drove back to Mildura with me, sweating through mid-summer in Alison with no air conditioning.
I knew how to easily pass my days. I'm never short of things to do: dreaming, scheming, completing. I now lived permanently in Marianne, next to the chook yard. I would wake to a burning orange horizon and Burt waiting by the apple tree.
February came. From phone calls and conversations, Marianne was taken to Austrek Mildura for her electrical system and new fridge installation. It cost me a couple of thousand dollars, but I knew this part was essential. I was nervous driving her in alone, but Piero was there when I picked her up.
Piero helped me worked out the fittings for the sink and that I needed a whole new tap. That week, we got attachments from an irrigation shop and he used glue that was bright pink, glue that will forever live with the splashes on Marianne's floor.
I thought I was all ready for adventure. I started saying goodbye, organising, but still I was nervous. I needed practice, a test run. I needed space, to write. The beginning and the end.
It was a Monday morning. I packed her right down and attached the trailer to my car all by myself. The newly installed Anderson plug continued to charge the fridge as I drove to Kings Billabong. When I came onto the dirt road, Alison's steering was bad. Seriously bad. I knew I had to sort this out before I went long distance. When I set up and couldn't charge my computer with the solar panel, I knew I still had to work out the 240v and 12v thing before I went long distance.
I loved the mornings, I loved the evenings, I struggled in the days. What would I do? Where would I go? I could easily live in Marianne, if I could sort the electrics, but did I want to do this alone? I'd delete Instagram, click back into it, delete it, click click click, message Piero. Then, on the final night, came the most magical Murray sunset I'd seen. I ran up and down the river bed yodeling with excitement. When Piero came, I was wine-d, in awe, being sassy, looking to the stars.
After three nights by the Murray, I returned to town and phoned Austrek. They told that No, I couldn't charge my computer without being plugged into the mains (although I had repeatedly told them, A charged computer and a cold fridge is what I need). Marianne now had to go back in to have an inverter installed. Alison simultaneously went to the mechanics for a service. The prognosis was grim: she wasn't healthy enough to pull a trailer. At another mechanic, her steering was fixed. Enough. But still, things weren't right. I chewed on my ideas. I needed money. I secured a full time job in Broome.
On the 1st of March 2020 Alison and I hit the road, leaving Marianne to come with Mum and Andy in May. All in all, costs totalled approximately $5000, and many many hours.
