Episode 2 is out. And this one is personal.
Every now and then I drive to wherever my friend Cassandra is to just hang out with her. This time I went from the Gold Coast all the way down to the bottom end of NSW and into Victoria over Christmas. I wanted to experience what life is really like for Cassie — and I had no idea what was about to unfold.
Cassie has been homeless for over 4 years. She lives in a bus with her dog Elsee and moves from free camp to free camp. She's not associated with tent cities or chaotic campsites — she keeps to herself, parks near creeks, and tries to maintain her dignity through all of it. And she does. Cassie is one of the most beautiful, zany, authentic, clever and talented people I know. I am honoured to call her my friend.
First stop was Tumut — the base of the Snowy Mountains. Beautiful cold creek, no toilet. The toilet block was 4km away from the campsite. That's where I met Ryan and Cat. Ryan is a top bloke, hilariously funny, and the full-time carer for his wife who only has one lung after cancer. They sold their house and got priced out of the market. Not on Centrelink. No alcohol. No drugs. Just a couple doing it tough in a van. Cat told me homelessness is about "survival". That word has stuck with me.
We moved on to Tumbarumba where it was cooler — some nights I needed three doonars. We spent Christmas there. Then the weird weather kicked in and it got extremely hot. A few of us got sunburnt and even got mild heatstroke.
Cassie studied the map again and we ended up around Walwa, a Victorian border town. That's where I met Kyle — a 23-year-old hitchhiker carrying his guitar around Australia. I was stoked. This is what we did in the 70s, 80s and 90s. These days there's way too much pressure on young people. Kyle is a legend.
Then bushfires started about 2km over the hill. A local bloke called Bluey — crook in health, gets around on a wheelie walker, named his dog Mary Jane — told us not to go up into the remote mountains. "You'll get trapped if the bush fires go through." We listened.
We pushed on to Corryong. In the IGA I looked at the prices and yelled out "my gosh, I better go and rob a bank to buy a few groceries." An elderly woman shuffled up to me and — well, you'll have to listen to hear what she said.
Just outside Corryong we found a sweet campsite. Late that evening an amazing woman appeared and camped between Cassie and me. She runs an orphanage in Mongolia. Has done for decades. No income, just conviction. She's planning to ride a push bike from Mongolia to the UK to raise money. How many Australian women do you know who run an orphanage overseas?
Next day we had to get out. The fires were spreading. We reasoned the road from Corryong to Albury could get cut off. Cassie followed me but she's got a shite sense of direction — how hilarious and ironic that she lives and travels around in a bus.
When the heatwave hit — four days of 40+ degrees — Cassie couldn't take it anymore. She texted me to say she'd rented a motel. Twin room, dogs allowed, I was invited whether I paid half or not. Welcome to the Hume Inn.
"Come and feel human at the Hume Inn," she said.
For four days we were holed up in that beautifully air-conditioned room. Netflix binges, cooking in the bathroom, dying our eyebrows, creating our own disco. It was like being back at school with your bestie up the back of the classroom. We laughed until we couldn't breathe. But there was no teacher to pull us up.
When the weather finally broke we did the op shops instead of sightseeing. I personally reckon about 98% of op shops in Australia have Susan Boyle CDs on their shelves. Cassie had shoppers' remorse afterwards. Of course I teased her about it.
After a month together, I had lots of film of us mucking about but no proper interview. So I finally got Cassie to speak into the microphone. She stopped joking around and told her story. Much later, when I was alone, I played it back and cried. It breaks my heart that my dear friend goes through all this. It's like ground hog day every single day for her.
Cassie said to me she believes we live in a dark realm. As a solo woman she can't afford to rent on her own. But over the years she's been reinventing herself — she's now a QEC practitioner, a Quantum Energetic Counsellor. I'm so proud of her for achieving this. Not everyone who is homeless has her skill or ability to reinvent themselves. She did a session with me and as a proper trained mental health nurse, I can see how valuable QEC is to help people overcome trauma.
The next day Cassie and I parted. I left with both a sad and thankful heart. I'll see her again. I'm just not sure when.
God bless you Cassie x
🎧 Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/48jrC5gQV2d7iqOMXnAOXz
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