Dearest Peggy and Grandma Cordelia,

Well, here we are in Australia at last, and it’s all so wonderful, I hardly know where to begin. We docked in Brisbane which is a lovely small city between the sea and a wide river, with huge parks full of silvery-barked trees called ghost gums which have leaves that shimmer and shiver in the slightest breeze. There are parrots of every colour, black swans, and long-legged ibis strutting about, and some of the birdsong in the morning is so beautiful it almost brings me to tears.

Pete arranged for our luggage to be sent up to his parents’ place by road train – that’s what they call the enormous lorries hauling numerous trailers that go at huge speed all over the country carrying everything from freight to cattle – so we could ride our motorbikes along the highway which runs parallel to the coast all the way to Cairns.

We stopped along the way to explore deserted, palm-fringed beaches, some of which ran for mile upon empty mile, and swam in a sea that was every bit as blue as Pete had promised. We drove through rainforests and cane fields, and saw mountains soaring out of vast ochre plains. We explored dirt roads which led to isolated settlements that were no more than a few houses, a pub and a church, and watched the kangaroos bounce away at the sound of our engines.

I heard the laughing kookaburra on my second day here, and the gorgeous piping of the magpies, and saw a huge wedge-tailed eagle hovering above us in search of prey. There are termite mounds as big as houses, and enormous black bats which hang from the trees near the waterholes – yuck and double yuck. They stink!

I’ve also seen my first snake – a horrid brown and orange thing Pete said was a deadly taipan. It was basking in the middle of the road and as Pete thinks the only good snake is a dead one, he ran over it, poor thing. He warned me all the snakes here are lethal, and so are a lot of the spiders and skinks, so I’ll have to watch where I walk.

But none of that can take away the sheer joy of being here. The scenery is breathtaking, the weather absolutely glorious, and the sheer size of the place is quite overwhelming. I do wish you were here to see it all.

We stopped off in Ravenshoe to look at the place his dad thought we should buy, and fell in love with it immediately. The house is what they call a Queenslander, propped on stilts and made of wood. It has a deep wrap-round veranda, three bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom and sitting room. It needs a lot of work doing to it, but with almost a hundred acres of fields and pandan forest surrounding it and several large outbuildings, it’s utterly perfect. Our offer was accepted, so now we’re eager to get the paperwork done and start making it our own.

We explored the whole area, which is between the outback and the sea, and although the town itself is very small, the people are friendly and welcoming, especially as Peter is a returning serviceman. We rode out to visit Pete’s family on their farm – or station as they call it here – and I couldn’t believe how vast it is, and how utterly peaceful beneath that big sky. Pete’s parents are really welcoming, but I’ve yet to meet his sisters and their families as they live hundreds of miles away on the outer edge of the property, and are busy with the shearing.

There are Aborigines working on the station who kept the place going throughout the war when so many of the men went to enlist, and Pete spent a long time with them talking about his experiences. I hadn’t realised that some younger Aborigines had enlisted, and one of them actually became an ace fighter pilot and was much decorated.

Pete took me camping under the stars one night, and told me some of the local Dream Time stories which simply explain the mysteries of the world’s creation. Looking up at the Milky Way, it felt as if I could reach up and touch the stars. I have never seen anything quite so awe-inspiring, and it makes you realise how very insignificant we all are in the vast scheme of things.

I know I’ve rattled on a bit, but I’ve been so longing to tell you how excited and happy we are to be here. We’ll be starting work on the house soon, and hoping to be in by Christmas, but the Wet has arrived, so it might take a bit longer. We’re lovely and snug in a caravan at the moment because the house isn’t really habitable, but the sight of the parrots hanging upside down in the trees to clean their feathers in the rain makes me laugh. In fact, I can’t stop smiling, I’m so very happy.

I’ve written to Dad and tried to keep it less enthusiastic, because I know he must be feeling deserted, but I knew you’d appreciate knowing how we are and what we’re feeling. I hope all is well with you, and that you have a wonderful Christmas. Pete and I have sent a big box of goodies over, which we hope will arrive in time to help the celebrations go with a swing.

Much love, hugs and kisses,

Rita