The tree saw us before we saw it.

The resounding bang as the rear of the motorhome hit the tree jolted us out of our jet lagged stupor.

We were so close to our destination for the night, which was just within sight. A night to get our bearings at a small apartment before heading off on our UK adventures.

But to get there we had to go down a side street and turn around, hence the three point turn backing into a tree. It must have grown there instantaneously as we never saw it until it was too late. At least it wasn’t another car or a person.

That was day one of our new life with Figaro, our motor home for the next 9 months.

Day two involved a side swipe of a trolley shelter at the local Sainsbury’s shopping centre.

We knew we needed to get more bedding and things for the trip, but after our second ‘accident’ we decided to get on the road and to our first destination while I was still able to navigate the roads.

It was certainly a crash course of learning. Unfamiliar terrain, merging motorways, huge English ‘lorries’ speeding past and cars heading off for the Easter weekend. We finally got to our first stop in the Cotswolds in a tiny village of thatched roof houses and Tudor style architecture. Too exhausted to cook we headed to the local pub for a cider to soak up the remaining sunshine.

That blue cloudless sky we had travelled through all day meant a freezing night huddled under coats and jumpers with the sleeping bag sliding off us. Thank goodness for cups of tea in the morning – but no saucepan to cook the porridge in.

We had to get supplies! Day three and we left Figaro in the company of the other HUGE motorhomes and caravans while we caught the bus into Tewksbury. Ah, travelling along the country lanes between hedgerows with roadside verges filled with springtime daffodils and bluebells. So pretty, especially when seen from the safety of a bus which made three point turns look easy, like a well practised obstacle course manoeuvre.

Learning new things is exciting. But it can also be really, really challenging. All the idiosyncrasies of owning a motorhome were explained in under an hour to us. Too much to take in, especially after a 21 hour flight. Hence our rookies mistakes. Misjudging the height and size of the motorhome which is, we found out, relatively small size in comparison to the ones parked near us in this village orchard.

I cast my thoughts forward to all the new things I will be learning when undertaking my Masters which starts next week. First we have to get there on another short haul south. On the map it looks really close by Australian standards, but I know for sure I’ll be on edge to start with as I navigate our course to Exeter to buy bicycles and then on to Devon.

Meanwhile there is another cup of tea waiting, a new doona (or duvet as they are called in the UK) for tonight, a saucepan for morning porridge and a day of no travel to rest and recuperate before setting off again. I’m yet to try out our little shower but judging from the steam coming from the bathroom and the satisfied look on my husband’s face as he emerges in his towel, I am in for a warm but contortionist’s dance with a hand held shower rose. Another skill to tick off my list of accomplishments.