Leaving home March 1969. 

We are driving a 1963 Ford Falcon lent to us by our Dad. 

We originally planned to do this trip in Ken's VW beetle, which was a bit under the weather due to the fact that Ken (We) had flogged the hell out of the thing as only young men can. 

The V dub was a genuine 'Herby' inasmuch as it had a spirit of it's own, catch it when it's blood was up and it was a monster as was proved late one memorable night on the road from Apollo Bay to Lorne after we had been chucked out of the pub. I'm still sworn to secrecy about the time that trip took until Ken's kids are bordering on becoming grandparents. Needless to say Hans Coburg and I still wake up screaming some nights.

However, when the dub didn't want to play it was a cow of a thing to get going, no amount of cajoling and threatening could get the B...... to move, but Ken and I had unshakable faith in Dad that he could manage the mongrel so we unhesitatingly hopped into his Ford Falcon and buggered of for a year in it. Thanks Dad.