Around Australia: One Woman One Soul One Dream

By Elaine Schnelle

After receiving an unsettling medical diagnosis, Elaine Schnelle, a 61-year-old divorced, retired grandma and psychic medium, decides that the only way she can achieve her dream of driving around Australia, is to do it now — and alone. Overcoming fears and self-doubt, she takes a leap of faith and embarks on the trip of a lifetime taking the reader along with her on her exciting adventure.

This book provides a practical travel guide of how the author planned her trip — including deciding what vehicle she will drive, the plotting of her itinerary, a description of her travels, the fears and challenges on the way, the interesting people she met, as well as maps, photos, and road details so that the reader, if desired, can drive a similar trip. It also gives the reader who cannot do the trip, the opportunity to live and experience the journey vicariously through the eyes of the author. And for people, especially women who are like the author living on their own who have given up on their dream because they thought they could not do it by themselves, this book inspires and shows them how to do it.

“Around Australia: One Woman, One Soul, One Dream” will also appeal to those who are looking for a spiritual memoir book, that shares insights on how to be in the present moment and interpret the signs from the Universe, so that they can live a guided life and on purpose.

This book inspires people to say Yes to life, and Never give up on their dreams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: May 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9781982296773

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Around Australia

One Woman

One Soul

One Dream

Elaine Schnelle

Copyright © 2023 Elaine Schnelle.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The information, ideas, and suggestions in this book are not intended as a substitute for professional medical advice. Before following any suggestions contained in this book, you should consult your personal physician. Neither the author nor the publisher shall be liable or responsible for any loss or damage allegedly arising as a consequence of your use or application of any information or suggestions in this book.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com.au

AU TFN: 1 800 844 925 (Toll Free inside Australia)

AU Local: [phone] ([phone] from outside Australia)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Back Cover Photos (Clockwise left to right):

Camel ride on Cable Beach at Broome; Golden sunset at Uluru; Me, swimming with the whale sharks at Ningaloo reef, Coral Bay; Sunset at Mindil Beach, Darwin.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9678-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9677-3 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 10/17/2023

For Mum and Dad and all my family.

I love you all.

Author’s Notes

I acknowledge the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples as the traditional custodians of this land, and I pay respect to their cultures, ancestors, elders both past and present, and all future generations. I especially thank those who shared their culture and traditions with me.

Authors Disclaimer

To write this book, I have relied upon my best recollections of these events, as well as my personal journals, itineraries, emails, social media posts, and photographs. I also consulted several of the people who appear in this book. I have changed the names of many but not all of the people in this book, and in some cases, I also modified identifying details in order to preserve their anonymity. I occasionally omitted people and events but only when that omission had no impact on either the veracity or the substance of the story. I made every effort to ensure that the contents of this book are accurate, but I make no warranty as to its accuracy and do not assume any legal liability. The inclusion of a person, organisation, activity, link, accommodation place, tour, website, or any other identifiable reference or notation in this book in no way implies any form of endorsement by myself, and I have not received any payment or benefit from mentioning any person, activity, or accommodation place.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Chapter 1 The Nudge I Needed

Chapter 2 Slot-Slot-Slot

Chapter 3 Just Fix It

Chapter 4 Almost on My Way

Chapter 5 From North to South

Chapter 6 From East to West with a Short Trip up the Centre

Chapter 7 From South to North

Chapter 8 From North to the Centre

Chapter 9 From the Centre to Home

Chapter 10 Home

Bibliography

About the Author

Acknowledgements

Thank you to all my friends, who nurtured, loved, encouraged, and believed in me and kept me going when it all got to be too much. You know who you are, but I must make special mention of Mel, Shelley, and Sally. I am forever grateful.

Thank you to my publishing team at Balboa Press, to Julie Johnston for the first edit, to my sister-in-law Yvonne Schnelle for her professional editing of my photographs, and to Jenny Finn of Finnart for her beautiful artwork on the cover.

To all the strangers I met on my journey, especially those who supported and encouraged me and those who shared their stories with me, thank you for showing me that the majority of people in the world are kind and caring.

To all those people who are inspired to follow their hearts, their passions, and their dreams, to face their fears and have the time of their lives: just do it.

To the Universe, my angels, my spiritual support family, and especially my late dad, who passed over too early, thank you for supporting, nudging, and guiding me, and for always being there and keeping me safe. I am never alone.

Introduction

You need to drive me to Sydney to see my uncle, please, I said to my husband. I don’t know why I need to go, but I just know that I need to go now. He’s very special to me.

It was in the early years of my marriage, and by then, my husband knew to listen to me when I knew something, especially when it was urgent. We organised the children, and he drove the long five-hour drive to Sydney. Once there, to my surprise, I discovered that my uncle was happy and well and was about to go to hospital for routine surgery for a simple matter. I wondered why I was even there and whether I had maybe gotten it wrong. We didn’t tell my uncle why we were visiting, and after chatting for a while, we said our goodbyes. As I was walking towards the doorway, I glanced back to look at his face and wave one more time, and I immediately felt overwhelming grief and sadness. I knew that I would never see him again.

A few days later, we received a phone call to say that he had unexpectedly passed away after the surgery, and I was grateful that I had listened to my knowingness. This was the moment that changed my life, as I could no longer ignore who I was anymore. I was different. I had been born this way, and I had to accept it.

From a young age, I used to wonder why other people didn’t know, feel, or see what I did, and I was often ridiculed by other children. I very quickly learnt to keep my mouth shut. It was only later, in my teens, that I realised that not everyone else saw, heard, knew, and felt the things and received the messages that I did, and it was why they didn’t understand. It was, however, normal for me, and even today, I know no other way.

For many years, I tried to fit in, and I even went through a period of time when I shut my gifts down. It was only in the later years of my life that I accepted the blessing that my gifts were and was prepared to tell others about them.

Today, society is more accepting than it was when I was younger, and because of this change in societal attitudes and the acceptance of the sixth sense, I am finally accepting of who I truly am, my gifts and all. I do not need to hide anymore. I am now living authentically, and I fearlessly speak up with what I know is my truth.

Each person has gifts, but we become aware of them at different stages in our lives. Some people, like me, are born with their gifts already open, and other people’s gifts open up after a turning point in their lives. These days, the newer generation seems to be more in touch with their gifts from an early age.

Everyone has four main psychic gifts, usually two that are dominant and two that are less dominant. My two main gifts are claircognizance and clairsentience.

Being claircognizant, I have a built-in knowingness. I know things. I don’t know how I know them, but I do. And I trust what I know. I knew, for example, that I urgently needed to visit my uncle in Sydney.

Being clairsentient, which these days is called being an empath, I sense and feel things, like when I felt the sadness and grief when saying goodbye to my uncle. I may sense the presence of one of my deceased loved ones around me or the sad feelings of a friend.

My two less dominant gifts are clairaudience and clairvoyance.

People whose dominant gift is clairaudience will hear things, in their ears or mind. The things they hear are always in a positive, loving, and encouraging manner, and come to them in a different voice to their own. I have friends who are blessed to hear the guidance and messages from their guardian angels and guides in this way. For me, as my gift of clairaudience is less dominant, I hear my messages usually through the voices of other people, like, for example, hearing the words of a song that has meaning for me or overhearing a conversation that gives me a message.

People whose dominant gift is clairvoyance will see things that many people cannot see, like angels, deceased loved ones, visions, colours, and auras. The gift of clairvoyance comes from your third eye, which is located slightly above and between your eyebrows, and if you close your eyes and look into that place, you may see the shape of your third eye or see colours. As clairvoyance is my less dominant gift, I see things in the physical, like a feather on the ground or a rainbow reflection on a window, that are signs from my angels and deceased loved ones.

It is through our psychic gifts that we receive messages from the Universe, and the best way to receive them is to be in the now, to slow down and observe and trust the signs around us, which can come and go at any time. We always have free will to choose whether we follow the guidance or not, and on many occasions, I have learnt the hard way, by not listening to my messages, and later wishing I had.

Over time, I have developed my gifts further, and I continue to do so. These days, I am a medium and channel as well. My mediumship is like a television that I can turn on and off.

It has been a lifelong journey for me to learn to trust my psychic gifts and speak up. It has also been a journey of discernment, and I am not hiding who I am any more.

I am a psychic medium. Welcome to my world.

one

The Nudge I Needed

It’s grown a millimetre, he said. We need to look at chemo and radiation. I’ll book you in to see the medical specialist.

My heart stopped, and I didn’t hear anything else the relieving doctor was saying to me. I sat numb in silence. At sixty-one years of age, I’d been living on my own for almost twelve years, aside from a few short relationships. Panic set in, and it surprised me when the first thought that came into my mind was that I hadn’t done my around-Australia trip yet. It was my motivation, my turning point. I was at the crossroads. I couldn’t put it off any longer. I knew which direction I was going.

I had been on this journey for some time. A small cyst had been discovered in my brain a few years earlier during a routine head scan for some eyesight difficulties.

Unfortunately, I can’t put a needle into that area to see if the cyst is malignant, the doctor had explained. The risk is too high. If I’m one millimetre out, you’ll die on the operating table.

He must have seen the look of horror on my face, because he had quickly added, It’s most likely benign, and you’ve had it for a while. You may even have been born with it. We’ll do scans every six months.

There was nothing I could do. Fortunately, I had no symptoms, so the best thing for me was to get on with my life. I was good at that, pretending that a problem was not there, escaping or running from it. I kept busy and consoled myself with the knowledge that it could be worse and that I was more fortunate than many. Then, every six months, I fronted up to the hospital for my Valium tablet and a twenty-minute scan in the tunnel of the dreaded MRI machine, desperately listening to the relaxation music playing in the background. There had been no change in the cyst—until now.

It surprised me that my immediate thought was about my around-Australia trip. Driving around Australia had been a dream of mine for a very long time. From a young age, my parents had always taken me, my two brothers, Roger and Paul, and my sister, Anne, on regular family holidays. Initially, we would camp in a tent along the Murray River near our Albury home, and we would relax, fish, and sit around campfires. At other times, we would camp on the river banks of my auntie’s dairy farm, where I would collect river stones to use as plates and cutlery while playing mothers and fathers with my cousin Joy. When the dairy cows sometimes popped their heads into our old canvas tent, we would all laugh and chase them away.

I was blessed to have a very happy childhood with a large extended family and many family get-togethers. Mum and Dad both loved a simple, family-orientated lifestyle, and Dad in particular loved being outdoors. I am grateful that they taught me to love Australia and appreciate the Australian bush, its people, and its simple way of life.

Over the years, I became intrigued with Australian wildlife and learning native bush skills. I would know that when I saw the first kookaburra arrive in our yard, that meant that winter was on its way, and when I saw the kookaburras leave and fly up to the cooler mountaintops, it was a sign that summer was coming. But it was more than that. The appearance and behaviour of an animal, would often have meaning for me, and bring me a message. When the kookaburras would break out into laughter nearby, they were reminding me to have a good laugh at myself and not be too serious about life. There was so much to learn in the bush, and I was an eager student.

Later, our family upgraded to a small four-berth caravan that took us on many memorable beach holidays, yabbying in outback New South Wales, and fishing and camping along the banks of rivers, lakes, and dams. We also took it on a few trips to northern New South Wales. To get there, we had to drive through the big city. I remember Dad intensely concentrating with his arms outstretched and hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel of our car, as he towed the caravan through the busy city of Sydney to go north for our school holidays. We all sat frozen in silence, not game to say anything, praying that he would get us safely through the traffic, and he did. A true country man he was, not a city man, but he did it. He did it out of love for his family and love of the Australian bush, even if it meant that he had to drive through a city to get to our bush holiday destination.

My parents’ passion for Australia, its natural wonders, its diverse people, and way of life was cemented in me forever. Once I left home for university, Mum and Dad travelled with friends in a small plane all the way around Australia. Their trip had sewn a seed within me, as it then became my dream, to one day drive all the way around Australia and experience what it had to offer.

It was during a family holiday in a caravan park in south-eastern New South Wales, that I met my husband. Once married and with a family of our own, I tried as best as I could to teach our daughters what I knew about the Australian bush, and we enjoyed many simple family holidays, initially in a tent and then in a caravan. I wanted to nurture in my own children a love and appreciation of the simple things in life, like I had experienced when I was a child. There was nothing more satisfying than enjoying a few sausages cooked on the open campfire in the Australian bush, away from the stresses and commitments of regular daily life. It was humbling but also immensely freeing, and I assumed that once my children were older, my husband and I would one day drive around Australia, and live the dream.

That was, however, not meant to be, when I found myself divorced and single after twenty-eight years of marriage. I’d always believed that when it is time for me to make a change in my life, the Universe would send me a pebble, a small nudge to wake me up to make the change. If I didn’t listen to the pebble, then it would send me a stone, a stronger nudge. And if I didn’t listen to the stone, then it would send me a rock, which would blast me, forcing me to make the change.

I had experienced many rocks over the years, and unfortunately, my marriage was one of them. For a long time, I didn’t want to see the obvious signs, the pebbles that were in front of me. My marriage was failing. Then, unexpectedly, I was blasted, and in a blink, my marriage was irretrievably over. Later, when I was struggling to live on my own and was resistant to accepting help from others, I had a bicycle accident, and my friend Grace, said some magic words to me.

You know how much joy you get from giving to others? she said. Well, how about allowing me the same joy to give to you.

It was what I needed to hear. My divorce had unknowingly affected my self-worth, and, I had been pushing away the love and care that I needed because I didn’t feel deserving of it.

Over time, I let my dream of driving around Australia go, believing that I could no longer achieve it on my own. I figured that it was best for me to get on with my life and focus on what made me happy. I retired from my job in the legal profession and moved to Townsville to live near my family, where I helped care for my grandchildren a few days a week while my daughter was studying at university. I also kept myself busy with various sporting and social groups and some organised travel.

Every year during the warm winter months in Townsville, however, I would look at the seemingly never-ending trail of motor homes and caravans that poured into Townsville. The Grey Nomads, the retired Australians driving around-Australia, living the dream. I would often find myself chatting with travellers on our waterfront, and when returning to my home, for a moment, I would allow myself to resurrect the dream, and would ‘google’ camper vans, wishing it was me. Every year I shelved it again, believing that I could not drive all that way on my own, and every year I felt sad about it.

During my marriage, my husband had done most of the driving whenever we were together in the car. It was what we did in the olden days, but unfortunately, it had its consequences. I had lost a lot of my driving confidence, and I didn’t even know anything mechanical about the car, let alone how to put air in the tyres. Now that I was on my own, I realised what a mistake that this had been.

The growth in the size of the cyst, was a wake-up call for me, a strong nudge from the Universe. It reignited my dream, and I couldn’t ignore the obvious signs in front of me anymore. I loved my life, but if I was honest with myself, there were still some things that I wanted to do—things that I dreamed about, but had been putting off or hadn’t had the confidence and belief in myself to do.

I knew that I would regret it forever if I did not drive around Australia, and now that the cyst looked like it was growing, maybe I wouldn’t even get the chance. Fate had changed my priorities, and despite all my fears and doubts, I had to try to fulfil my dream, even if I didn’t know how I was going to do it. If I wanted change in my life, I had to make changes, and I had to make them now.

Somehow, I would find a way to drive all the way around Australia.

The Bigger Picture

When experiencing difficult times in your life, pause and look at the bigger picture. Try to determine what the Universe is teaching you through this experience and what your soul wants you to learn. What beliefs, fears, habits, memories, emotions, and doubts are you being asked to change or release, and what direction are you being nudged to go in, so that you can move forward along your soul path?

Ask yourself what it is that you secretly dream about, but have been too afraid to take the time or have lacked the courage to make the necessary changes to make it happen. Then, bravely ask yourself why you have been putting everything else first. Go within. Listen to the guidance from your heart, not your head, because it is from within your heart that your soul speaks to you. Then, follow that guidance. Allow your soul to lead you; it knows the way.

two

Slot-Slot-Slot

By the time I had driven home from the doctor’s appointment, the familiar fears, doubts, and excuses I had used many times before had found a voice again. I knew them all, and I was good at them: The family needs me. I can’t tow a caravan. I need a man to drive me. I can’t drive that far by myself. What if Mum has another stroke? I can’t miss my grandchildren’s birthdays. What if I break down? And now my new one. What if I get sick when I’m away? It was endless. But this time, nothing was going to stop me. I reached for better thoughts: I can do this. I know I can. Things always work out. The Universe never gives me more than I can handle. Only good will come out of this. And I repeated these thoughts over and over again.

If I was to achieve my dream, I had to stay positive and fully commit to making it happen. Many times in the past, however, I had abandoned my plans after sharing my ideas with other people, because I had allowed their well-meaning advice and doubts to affect my self-belief. This had happened so many times that a friend once said, Don’t tell me anymore that you are going to do something unless you are really going to do it. I’m over it!

It was a good lesson to learn, so I figured that this time, it would be best if I didn’t tell anyone about my plan just yet, not until I could truly believe that it was possible. I still had a major hurdle to overcome in my own belief about my health.

I booked an appointment with my regular doctor to discuss the results of the latest scan.

You still don’t have any symptoms. The growth in the cyst was most likely an error with the machine, he said. We’ll continue with the six-monthly scans.

His words were like heaven to me. It felt like I had been given a reprieve, a second chance to finally fulfil my dream. Now, feeling more confident and excited, it was time to share my dream with those whom I could trust. While sitting down in front of the television, I rang each of my daughters, who were very supportive, and then, I rang my trustworthy friend Grace.

That’s wonderful. You have always wanted to do this for as long as I can remember, she said. It’s so exciting. I’m sure you can do it, and it will all fall into place. What’s your biggest fear?

Driving over the Nullarbor desert on my own, I said, embarrassed. Everyone I know who’s done it seems to have a story to tell. I quivered. It’s a long way, and isolated. Some have broken down; others have found it hard to concentrate. It’s so hot that the road gets a hazy mirage effect, and there can be strong, gale-force winds.

The words flowed­­­, and then the truth spilled out.

Because … because I might break down and get murdered by a truck driver on the side of the road, like I’ve seen on the television.

I hadn’t admitted this to myself before, but it was my biggest fear.

There was a long pause on the phone, and I dropped my shoulders in anticipation of defeat.

Then she said, Why don’t you go on the train? You could book yourself and your car on the train from Adelaide to Perth.

That’s brilliant! I said, elated and almost in disbelief that such an easy solution had been found. I would just need to drive myself to Adelaide and could then sit and relax on the train. The train driver would drive me over the Nullarbor!

Finally, I could feel excited by the idea that just maybe, I could achieve my dream. I closed my eyes and thought about it. I could do that.

I should just book it. I need a date, I said, and at that very moment, on the television screen in front of me, the words 30th March were written out in big letters. It was an advertisement for a furniture sale on that date, which was coming up soon, but I knew that it was more than that. It was a synchronistic sign from the Universe, another nudge, and I had to listen. Going to Adelaide on 30 March, twelve months away, would be perfect. My youngest grandchild in Townsville, whom I was looking after a few days a week, would have commenced her first year at school by then, and my daughter would have completed university. In the meantime, I could continue to monitor my health and plan and prepare for the trip.

I will book 30 March, I said, telling her about the television ad. As Townsville is on the east coast of north Queensland, I could go clockwise—drive south first, get to Adelaide by the thirtieth, jump on the train, and go over to Perth. I would then drive north up the west coast to Darwin and then east across to home.

The words raced out of me.

Yes, and once you get further north, into the more remote areas, it will be the grey nomad season. There would be lots of travellers on the road escaping the southern winter, so it will be safer if you break down­, said Grace.

Yes! That’s true! And then with great enthusiasm, I blurted out, "I’ll finally be a grey nomad!"

I did not put my phone down. I could not ignore all the signs of support and nudges from the Universe. I had to take the first step now to manifest my dream into reality and shift the energy before the doubts set in. Under the law of attraction, I knew that what I put out, I would get back, so instead of putting out into the Universe that I was planning on going, which would only attract and give me back more planning on going, I needed to be putting out that I was actually going. I quickly googled a phone number and then pressed Call.

Good morning. Indian Pacific Rail booking office. How can I help you? said a female voice as I gripped the phone tightly.

I’d like to book a single-berth cabin and my vehicle on the Indian Pacific train from Adelaide to Perth for 30 March next year, please, I replied.

There was a long pause. I could feel my heart pounding, and then her voice broke the silence.

We have a single-berth cabin available. I’ll book it for you. What vehicle do you have?

I don’t know yet, I replied, holding back the tears that wanted to burst out of me.

That’s OK. There’s still plenty of time, she said. You can ring back once you know. I will book your vehicle on the top deck.

I always believed, if something was right, then things would go slot-slot-slot and fall easily into place. And it had all gone slot-slot-slot. The Universe was supporting me