The Bridge Hotel in Nowra

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 Nowra

 

The thing about living in a hotel is that moving house is very easy. All you have to pack is clothes and whatever books and personal effects you own. There’s no furniture, no bed linen, no kitchen utensils or crockery or cutlery. Just yourself and your own ‘stuff’. Easy!!

 

In early January 1958,  the car fully packed with suitcases of clothes and boxes of our individual treasures, the front wheel off my bike so it would fit in, and Patch arranged in his own box on the front seat, dad set off. We were to meet him in Newcastle later that day, after mum and us three kids had made our own way there by train. And as usual in Newcastle, we would be staying a few days at Nan and Uncle Fred’s place at Waratah.

 

As the afternoon moved into evening, growing concern grew into alarm as there was no sign of dad. As night fell, still no arrival

 


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