For the first nine months, my pop-up camper was called Odyssey.
The name made sense at the time. I'd just picked her up, converted her into something I could actually live in, and was figuring out what the whole thing meant. Odyssey felt right for that season of long drives and plans that shifted every other week, capturing the restlessness of those early months when I was still working out who I was becoming and what this whole setup was actually for.
Then I went to see Taylor Swift: The Official Release Party of a Showgirl at the cinema, and something shifted. There's a song called Opalite that I hadn't paid much attention to before, but this time one particular line stopped me cold.
Taylor sings about having to make your own sunshine, then waking to find the sky has become opalite, this luminous thing you've somehow created rather than just stumbled into.
I sat there in the dark theatre thinking about that image, about opalite as a gemstone that's made rather than mined, and realised the metaphor fit exactly where I'd landed. The song moves from sleepless darkness to something intentional and clear, which is pretty much the journey I'd been on without quite having words for it.
You don't accidentally end up with that kind of peace. You build it, one decision at a time, working out what matters and what doesn't until you've created something that feels right.
Looking back, I wasn't wandering anymore. I was choosing where I went, how I lived, what actually mattered to me. The restless searching of those first months had shifted into something more deliberate, more mine. Odyssey had been the right name for that earlier season, but it didn't fit anymore.
So I renamed the camper Opal.
I thought about keeping Opalite as the full name, given that's where the inspiration came from, but Opal just rolls off the tongue better. When you're talking about your camper as often as I do, that practicality matters. It's punchier, easier to say, and unmistakably Australian in a way that feels more like me.
Plus, it turns out both Design RV and Prime Edge Caravans have models called Odyssey, which meant I'd been inadvertently sharing a name with actual commercial caravans this whole time.
Opal solves that problem while meaning something more personal.
The name fits her better now anyway. Opal brings to mind glowing campfires, moonlight through canvas, soft sunrises on the road. Light against darkness. A space that feels like my own, wherever I happen to park it.
This little camper has become more than just a travel trailer over these months. She's part of the story I'm writing, one where I'm not just reacting to whatever life throws at me, but actively shaping what comes next.
Whether I'm headed for the mountains, the coast, or just pulling up somewhere for a few quiet days, Opal carries the same energy Taylor sings about in that song. Clarity, light, intention. Not just a name, but a marker of where I've ended up after all that early wandering.
There's plenty more road ahead, but at least now I know what to call the camper I'm towing.
