There is absolutely no doubt that life on the road can offer freedom the likes of which the average person can only ever dream of. For images, videos and the full RV Daily experience, read this in our online magazine. I…
There is absolutely no doubt that life on the road can offer freedom the likes of which the average person can only ever dream of.
For images, videos and the full RV Daily experience, read this in our online magazine.
I travel Australia for around 10 months of every 12 and have what most people would describe as the best job in the world and I would agree with them, but I have to let you know it’s not all beer and skittles.
The parts of ‘normal’ home life that we don’t perhaps enjoy, such as domestic chores still mostly exist for the nomad and some of them come with amplified complexities that sometimes make me scratch my head. A good example of this is washing day, I can remember my dear old Nan basing her decision to do the washing on whether it was a “good drying day” or not, but for the modern-day me, I base it on when I’ve got a spare minute and no clean jocks and socks.
My laundry room is non-existent, so I rely on one that’s been commercially supplied for my use, it consists of a bank of washing machines and an equal size line up of dryers that negate the need for me to judge the quality of the drying day but come with their own bag of issues. The main issue that I find with these dryers is the cost to use them, they generally eat an average of four bucks a load and that cost is clearly marked on the machine. Now hold on, don’t point the finger at me and imply that I’m miserable, I’m actually quite happy to pay the four bucks for the machine to dry my clothes, it’s the non disclosed charge that annoys me.
I’m not sure how the machine works but what I am sure of is that the actual cost to dry a load of washing is four dollars and one sock. I don’t know why, I don’t know how I don’t know what the people in charge of the machines do with them but I do know that every time I do my washing I end up with one lonely sock.
Now I’m a glass half full man and I find the constant need to replenish my sock supply means that I never end up with old socks with holes in them. I just can’t for the life of me work out what they’re doing with all the socks.
Cheers,
Macca
