We drove over the final hill and looked down a steep valley towards a cluster of houses that were to make up our place of residence for the next eight years.
This was our first placement as teachers and our first time away from home.
Everything was new including the six-month-old daughter sleeping in the back seat.
We drove into the town, a sleepy place still in the Christmas holiday mode, the shops with their Christmas decorations still on display.
The first intersection we arrived at had pubs on two corners, a bank and an old furniture store on the other.
We arrived at the place we were to rent only to discover the previous occupant had not yet moved out, as there had been a problem for her in getting a removalist to take her stuff to her new place.
We had no alternative but to find accommodation in one of the towns two motels, a grubby place with a well-meaning hostess who could only offer us a single nights accommodation. The second night was in on of the pubs in beds that sagged so badly in the middle that when you rolled over, you ended up in the same spot.
But we survived and since it was a long weekend we were able to arrive at our place on Monday and help pack the previous tenants belongings before we waited for our removals truck to arrive.
All we had was baby stuff and a roll out sort of mattress for ourselves. We heard during the day that the truck bringing our furniture had been delayed.
On the Monday morning when we should have been up and readying ourselves to start school we were awakened by the truck backing into our place and began the frantic unpacking of the truck, boxes piled into the lounge room to await unpacking at some future time.
And so we started a new life, in a new place surrounded by chaos.