The escape clause

Backpackers crowd the tree-lined street I walk down when I come home from work.

It's summer and they're all tanned, relaxed, dreadlocked and outfits as comfortable as pajamas but with a lot more style.

Old terraces have been converted into hostels. Parking is tough here, impossible on Friday nights, but somehow they find space to park their dusty 4WDs. The ratio is about two vans for every one regular car.

While deals of a different mind-altering nature are made on the Golden Mile just a few streets away, here the currency is combi-vans and hard cash. Fully equipped with all the camping equipment needed for a trip around Oz, the average price is about AUS$4,500 and they're inevitably up for a quick sale.

Backpackers congregate on the street and reunite with other travelling friends. They sing, dance, laugh, chat, play guitars or snooze in their vans. It's hard not to be envious.

And at the end of a frustrating day at work, when I see the signs sticky-taped to the inside of windows covered in red outback dust, it's tempting to think of how easy it would be to buy one of these vans. To hit the open road. Freedom just a 20 minute transaction away. It's good to have an escape clause . . . 

Someone must have thought this coffee cup

was cute enough to hang on a wall. I agree.

Maybe it's like an urban mistletoe when the

Saturday night Romeos come out to play.

It's 8.40am Saturday morning and a hot breeze is blowing through the apartment. The weather report says it will be 43 degrees. I have no plans but a few ideas for what to do today. Days like this are heavenly, if not a little hot. Hope you have a glorious Saturday too.

On a far less interesting note, my camera and computer are finally talking to each other again (the computer had a bit of a tantrum and decided the USB drivers were so last season). I hope to share more pictures with you now.