At home on the road

SIPPING a fresh cup of coffee and watching the waves, Rodney Chester enjoys the serenity of Noosa from the comfort of a six-berth motorhome.

THERE is always something about being in a motorhome that turns me into the dorky dad from The Castle.

I've just snared the best car park in Noosa Heads, backing the 6m Kea six-berth motorhome into a beachfront spot, with the rear window that's as wide as the vehicle displaying a view that people travel around the world to see.

The parking inspector has just chalked our tyres, which means I legally have an hour to soak up the view, and that's plenty of time to fire up the kettle, plunge the coffee and get out the leftover Chinese takeaway from the fridge.

"How's this for a place to park the motorhome?" I say to the tribe for perhaps the fifth time in the past 10 minutes. I remark on the surf, I remark on the sand, and I fear I'm just a moment away from remarking on the serenity.

There are better ways of spending an afternoon, but at the moment it's hard to name one.

When it comes to motorhomes, I'm something of a swinger. In the past four years, I've hit the road with wife and daughter in tow no fewer than four times in rental motorhomes. Twice have been in four-berth units; twice have been in six-berth units. And, each time, there's been a different logo on display on my side wall.

Which makes me think I'm a pretty good judge of the motorhome rental market. And the house-on-wheels that I'm currently sitting in typing out this report is as good as I've travelled in.

This unit is put together in New Zealand (perhaps not surprising given the name) and shipped over. The machine at the front is basically a Ford diesel truck, but one that's surprisingly comfortable.

Forward in going backwards

Although it doesn't sound as exotic as some of the other motorhomes that have a European brand at the pointy end, it's quiet to drive, with a six-speed manual gearbox, and there's plenty of cubbyholes and pockets for the important things, like water bottles, coffee cups, maps, and even a little slot for those car-park tickets that always seem to get lost.

Probably the handiest feature at the front end, or actually the back end, is that the visor on the driver's side folds down to reveal a camera that shows what's behind you as you reverse. There's no replacement for having someone sit at the back of the van yelling out advice as you reverse one of these beasts, but the reversing camera is certainly a handy extra.

Not surprisingly, the powers of competition mean that all rental motorhomes are similar in many ways. But this van has some differences from the ones we've had before, including the reversing camera. This is the first unit we've had where a wind-out annex has come as a standard.

Also, because they're built in New Zealand where skiing is a more common pastime than, say, on the Sunshine Coast, there is a storage unit designed for snow skies that runs the width of the vehicle with a hatch on either side that can be useful for storing other things like camping chairs and tables.

Giving me the sheets

Another good feature, and one that you think we might have encountered before, is that we were handed a handy sheet of the things to check each time you start driving.

It might sound obvious, but a reminder to unplug the van's lead from the powerpoint before you leave your site or put the step away can save you some grief.

There's also a sheet that lists the operation of everything in the van, with the surprising omission of the toilet which can be trickier to use that what you might imagine. Without the sheet, I don't think I would have guessed that I needed to take the pillow from the rear couch to fill in a hole on the top bunk.

On the downside, you might think that any vehicle fitted with a toilet might also come with toilet paper. If our van had a roll on hand, then we didn't find it.

We set out for the weekend with a vague idea but no real plans and thought we had stopped at what was set to be our first campground. It turned out it was only the typical Friday afternoon chaos of the Bruce Highway, and in the fullness of time (seemingly about six months) we made the long trek from our inner-city northern Brisbane suburb to Cotton Tree Caravan Park, one of the old-style Sunshine Coast parks.

Retire home and recharge

Greeted with a friendly welcome, we decided to dine in – which accounts for the Chinese takeaway mentioned earlier – and explored the beach along the river the next morning before heading off.

One of the issues that puts some people off a motorhome is parking. You can squeeze some four-berth motorhomes into a normal car space but you have to really, really squeeze the length of a six-berth vehicle and even then you don't quite make it.

Luckily, the parking for Eumundi markets takes motorhomes into account.

And there's something reassuring in knowing that, after walking what I'm sure is the equivalent of the length of the Great Wall of China as you peruse the market stalls, you can retire home and recharge.

After the markets, it's off to Noosa. Did I mention how good my car park was and that I backed in to ensure the incredible view was enjoyed to maximum effect? We tried booking in the Noosa River Caravan Park, but all they had available was a tiny unpowered site next to the industrial-sized rubbish bin for $30. For about $10 more, we chose a powered site along the road a bit at Tewantin, but headed back to the Noosaville group of shops to capture dinner which came in the shape of a pizza from the award-winning Zachary's pizza store.

On the last day of our adventure, we headed for the hills.

First stop was the obligatory photo opportunity at the Big Pineapple before heading up the range to Maleny for lunch.

We came home via Peachester, a detour worth taking if you're travelling back to Brisbane from Maleny.

We made it back on Sunday, and didn't need to return the van until Monday morning.

So, we parked it in front of the house and my daughter and I camped out one more night.

If you are ever trying to get a five-year-old to sleep, there is nothing quite like telling them about the serenity.

The Courier Mail