Bloody Cold: It Really Is That C-c-cold

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This post was originally published in 2008. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content.

Uralla – a very small town in the New England Tablelands (read: high altitude lands) was a painful shot to our tropical arms whilst traveling around Australia in a campervan for 6 weeks. If we thought we were cold in Springbrook, we didn’t know what cold meant.

We knew we were in trouble when we started seeing our breath before the sun was even down. By 8:00pm we had endured enough of the torture of sitting in the cold without a fire, and went to bed.

So began the rummage: going through every item in the van, evaluating it for its insulating capabilities. If jackets could be worn, they were. Hats, gloves, scarves, and multiple layers of clothing were donned. Heck – if I could have figured out a way to wear the coffee maker, I would have.

Anything that could be used as a blanket was. Our thin little sleeping bags (which aren’t really meant for crazy World Nomads Ambassadors who drive south in the winter) were certainly not going to do the job. All the towels, extra clothing, and even our emergency space blanket were neatly laid over us so as to reduce the level of agony our poor tropical asses were suffering through.

They say you sleep well when it’s cold. They’re lying.

We obviously survived the night to publish this post. But did we lose a few fingers? Find out by reading the rest of the story here on our World Nomads Ambassador Trip journal!

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2 thoughts on “Bloody Cold: It Really Is That C-c-cold”

  1. Ah…down under my dear, where winter is summer and vice versa. And for somebody whose mission is to permanently avoid the winter (I dislike cold intensely), I’ve done a pretty shoddy job! 🙂


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