How do you plan the perfect road trip?
I am not sure I have ever planned the perfect road trip. I am not sure such a thing exists. Every road trip is different. Some are carefully mapped. Some are held together by a rough idea, a few necessary bookings, and the hope that something good will happen along the way.
Some of our best road trips have been planned just enough.
Years ago, when we were living on the Northern Rivers, we decided on a simple rule. We would drive no more than six hours, then stop wherever we ended up. Six hours took us to Bundaberg, and from there to the coast. Almost by accident, we stopped at Mon Repos Beach, an important turtle rookery.
We put up a tent in the nearby caravan park and stayed for two weeks.
It could have gone badly. The place might have been wrong. The weather might have turned. Instead, it became one of those unexpected gifts. We soaked up the sun, read books, wandered around, and watched turtles laying and hatching at night. There was plenty nearby: Bundaberg, the Bert Hinkler memorial, K’gari, and the southern edge of the Great Barrier Reef.
Maybe we were lucky. Maybe you could do something similar almost anywhere along the Australian coastline and find something worth staying for. Either way, the plan worked because it was simple. It gave us a direction without locking us in.
Another time we took a road trip down the south coast. That one had more structure. We caught up with friends, stayed at Eden, and saw dolphins in the harbour. From there we headed to Gabo Island, where we stayed in a lighthouse keeper’s cottage. The local school principal flew us over from Mallacoota, after first driving up and down the airstrip to scare the kangaroos away.
Gabo Island was magnificent. The weather was wild and blustery. The ocean swell was big. As we walked around the island, young penguins called from the entrances to their burrows, waiting for their parents to return with food.
After that we made our way towards Delegate River in NSW, near the Brown Mountain and Errinundra corridor, then came home through Bombala and the alpine country.
That trip was planned, but not in every detail. The broad shape was mapped out. The cottage was booked. We knew the general direction. But there was still room to respond to weather, conversations, landscape, and what we discovered on the way.
Perhaps that is how you plan the perfect road trip. You choose a direction. You book what needs to be booked. You carry what you need. Then you leave space for the road to do some of the planning.
The perfect road trip may not be perfect at all. It may simply be planned enough to be safe, and lightly enough to be surprised.
The Afterword 
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