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Stunning Countryside As We Travelled |
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And Then More |
Well, hello! I
sincerely hope this missive finds you well and happy. I trust you are not going into decline due to
either the finish of the footy season, or the rather unpleasant result. No?
Great.
You find us this bright and sunny morning in the tiny SA
town of Morgan, and yes we have covered a little ground since the last
entry. This has probably been the most
iconic stretch of our journey as we have traveled alongside some of
Australia’s best known and loved rivers. We have also stayed at a couple of our
best known old towns. For your
edification the journey went something like this:
THE ROAD TO GUNDAGAI
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Golden Fields Backed By Deep Blue Ranges |
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Golden Fields of Canola |
I know it’s hackneyed, but truly, we were on the road to
Gundagai and so I have little choice in the matter. The road from Batemans Bay where we left the
south coast of NSW traveled initially through some incredibly steep mountains
and hills. We felt that these exceeded
in height those of the Apple Isle, but as there were no markers in view we
cannot verify this. Suffice to say, poor
old Zed with Jezzy behind did have to work extra hard to get us over some of
those peaks. Fortunately we had quite
good weather with no rain to speak of and very little wind. The scenery at first mimicked much of what we
had seen before by way of verdant rain forest, tree ferns, giant eucalyptus and
heavy undergrowth. Eventually the bush
thinned out and we found ourselves travelling through stunning undulating
country covered with golden pastures. I
am not sure why the paddocks were gold – certainly not due to any
cropping! It must have been either due
to lack of rain, or perhaps lack of sun, but whatever the cause, it made for
some stunning landscapes under striking cloud formations.
We received some great directions from a group of
‘permanents’ at the CP before leaving the coast and were able to completely
bypass Canberra and shoot across country to Gundagai. Along the way we passed thru’ a section of
country occupied, theoretically, by a mob of Canberrians who had opted for a
country lifestyle. Hobby farms fenced in
white and decorated with handsome horseflesh, alpacas and fancy coloured sheep
dotted the roadside. It was quite pretty
and did indeed look like what a group of pollies might think farming is all
about.
We passed too, through the delightful and historic town
of Yass – what amazing countryside that is!
After stopping to take a few photos at the look-out at Yass we continued
on and finally arrived in pretty Gundagai early afternoon. It was a delightful day with blue sky happily
decorated with fluffy white clouds. For
once I didn't check the weather report as we sat outdoors swapping stories with
other travelers. One of these travelers surprised us by being very politically incorrect and rather
uncomfortably off-colour by telling us how he wished to leave this world. I won’t go into sordid details, but trust me
it involved a male fantasy that most of you blokes would thrill to. Those of you who know me well, know that I am
far from being a prude, but really, when you have only just met someone, I
think a modicum of good taste and caution is called for. Oh well, DD is still talking about it, and
now I have to convince him that it is not going to happen that way for him!!
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A Wet And Muddy Gundagai CP |
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Hills Around Gundagai |
Due to the wonderful location of the park, and the
delightful weather we booked four nights in Gundagai. We were right on the banks of the Murrumbidgee
River – I mean, just how Aussie can you get, sitting in the country town of Gundagai,
on the banks of the Murrumbidgee River?
It was magic. Sadly, that afternoon
I took no photographs, believing we had another 3 full days to do all that sort
of thing. Hmmm, well best laid plans and
all that stuff – during that night, I was woken by the sound of rain on the
roof of the van. Oh well, a bit of rain
would be nice I thought! It did not stop
raining at all the whole of the remainder of our stay there. Seriously the place turned into a bit of a
quagmire and the rain just kept coming down.
The river did rise just a smidge, but we had no flood qualms, just wet
ones.
Eventually giving up on a spot of fine weather we headed
off to see The Dog – you know the one, The Dog Sits On The Tucker-box! We saw the Dog, and his mate and took a few
rather ordinary photos of them both. The
rain was pretty prohibitive of further exploration, but we did go into the
local Visitor Centre to see the amazing marble carvings. The incredibly
talented gentleman who did these carvings was Frank Rusconi; a well known name
in the region and somewhat of a legend.
The work is something else and all the marble was quarried
‘locally’. As the name indicates, Frank
was Italian and his works have a distinct Italian and Roman Catholic flavour.
Frank was also responsible for the statue of The Dog.
The country around Gundagai is stunning and there it was
emerald green. The town has seen more
than its fair share of flooding and as a result of this tendency, the old train
tracks were raised high above the ground on timber bridges – these old
structures have long since been replaced by huge concrete structures, but the
locals have left much of the remains of the old timber-work for posterity and
these old structures give the town quite a quaint perspective.
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The Dog Still Waits |
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Slippery and Muddy Road-works |
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Fields Of Sunshine Under Stormy Skies |
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Amazing Marble Carvings |
MAKING HAY WHILE THE SUN SHINES
Needless to say, the day we were scheduled to leave
Gundagai, the sun was brightly shining and the rain had finally moved on. We hit the road at a reasonably early hour
and set out for Hay, another Murrumbidgee town.
We left the main roads and took various little short-cuts across country
– finding along the way an abundance of road-works and lovely slippery muddy
roads.
The CP at Hay was quite a nice one, right on the main
road. The bloke, having unhitched and
done all the blokey things wandered off to explore the park and returned all
agog because he had found the park had a communal fire-place. At around 4.30 he headed off to light the
fire and as they say in the classics, “If you build it, they will come”, so it
is with fires, at least, “if you light it, they will come!” applies just as
well. Before attempting to make tea I
joined the bloke at the fire, just for a little while you understand. Folks started to wander in from the
surrounding vans and before we could blink, we had quite a nice little group
assembled. One of the ladies, Sondra was
a singer. Not just someone who could
knock out a tune, but a truly good singer.
She had a brilliant personality, did a marvelous Louis Armstrong
impersonation and entertained us right royally for several hours. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, singing along
with Sondra – we shared a love of the same music and most of what she sang I
also knew. It was a great night. Needless to say, tea didn't happen, but
another lovely lady Margaret produced a bag of spuds which the blokes very
efficiently first wrapped in foil and then placed t strategically amongst the
coals. I dug out a carton of sour cream
and somewhere along the way we dined right royally on baked potatoes and sour
cream. What a wonderful night!
Hay has a scattering of historical buildings and we
decided to visit a couple of them on our first full day in Hay. The Bishop’s House was our first destination,
but sadly we arrived there a tad too early and so wandered away planning to
return later after visiting the old Gaol.
Well, the old Gaol sounded interesting in the literature but sadly
whilst the actual buildings had been quite well preserved, the interiors were
really not well done and just housed a collection of museum style items. We have in our travels seen a few too many of
these museums now and find that mostly they are all the same, give or take the
odd unusual curio. We were so
disappointed we decided to give the Bishop’s House a miss after all and simply
took ourselves off to have a little lunch on the banks of the Murrumbidgee.
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Goal, POW Camp, Hospital, Wayward Girls Home |
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The Rolling Brown Waters Of The Murrumbidgee |
ROLLING INTO ROBINVALE
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Friendly Neighbour |
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Are They Flowers? |
From the historic town of Hay we continued following the
Murrumbidgee east, past where it meets up with and succumbs to the Mighty
Murray River. Shortly before reaching
Mildura, we took a short deviation, 6 ks off the beaten track into Victoria and
the delightful town of Robinvale. This
is almost one of those twin town sorts of things. On one side of the Murray, in NSW is the town
of Euston and on the other side, in Vic, is Robinvale. The CP at Robinvale is right on the river
banks and once again we were in a position where we could almost dangle our
feet in the river from the steps of the van.
It was surreal, the river was surrounded by native bush, we were on the
banks of the river, an enormous bridge over the river soared almost over our
heads where we camped, and the town nestled at our backs.
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Little Cuties |
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Stately Visitors |
Yet more clutches of Wood/Maned Ducks and attendant
ducklings waddled around the campsite, along with all manner of other bird life
including the loud, raucous and highly intelligent Sulphur Crested
Cockatoos. We spent 3 nights at Robinvale
and I must say I was reluctant to leave this semi secluded and picturesque
spot. We just happened to be there on
Saturday when they have a market in town.
I have to say, it was one of the best little town markets we have been
to on our travels. Due to being in the
dreaded fruit fly exclusion zone we didn’t want to risk buying fresh produce,
but I did find some pretty little earings in a colour I had been looking
for. We discovered too, a stall selling
all manner of olive produce and we availed ourselves of some very good quality
flavoured olive oils. Next to this stall
was a wonderful little Italian mamma who was selling all manner of home cooked
tomato sauces, savoury dumplings and other mouth watering items. We left the market laden down with our tasty
purchases and I have to say that Italian lady’s produce kept us very happy for
a couple of days.
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Morning Reflections |
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Tranquility |
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The Bridge Soaring Above Us |
Even had we wished to stay longer (and I did) we could
only get our spot on the river for 3 nights and so had to move on. The only caution I would raise to anyone
considering staying at the Robinvale CP on the river, is to make sure you have
a bay reasonably close to the amenities block.
We were waaaay down one end of the park and had a very long and steep
climb to the loos and somewhere along the way DD managed to injure his
knee. I will tell you more about that
injury later tho’.
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I Wanted To Stay Here |
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Days End |
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Ever So Softly The Day Slips Away To The West |
MEETING UP AT MILDURA
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From The Van |
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Sundowners Galah Style |
Sunday morning saw us up and away heading back across the
border into NSW and towards Mildura. The
lovely couple we had met at Hay, Sondra and Dick were going to be there for a
couple more days and we were keen to catch up with them before they returned
home to their home in the Melbourne ‘burbs.
We just have to be one of the luckiest couples
around. Unbeknown to us, the Mildura
Country and Western show was almost about to start and so we could only get 5
nights at the CP at Buronga – now it gets a little confusing here. Mildura is actually in Victoria, but Buronga,
just a literal ‘stone’s throw’ across the river, is in NSW! We stayed at the Buronga CP and once again we
were fortunate enough to get the last available site right on the banks of the
Murray River. We were just a couple of
vans down from Sondra and Dick and amongst a lovely group of folk. This is a large caravan park and it was
pretty much full, even during the week leading up to the big event. The atmosphere in the camp was brilliant –
even though I personally prefer quiet out of the way spots, once in a while it
is lovely to get all social and mingle with the other caravanners.
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The Cutest Visitors |
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Morning Light |
I probably should have mentioned earlier that for about
the last 2 – 3 weeks we have seen an absolute plethora of vans on the
road. All those intrepid annual ‘to Qld’
or ‘to NT or North West WA’ travelers are homeward bound and there are just
enormous numbers of our fellow travellers clogging the roadways and
short-staying at the Caravan Parks.
Buronga was atypical of this southward bound flow and we were surrounded
by folk ‘coming home’ with their bronze tans, dusty vans, yappy pups and happy
yarns. It was friendly, lively and
relaxing all at the same time.
While we were in Mildura we were struck by the dreaded
‘full moon bug’. We are not really sure
who it is that suffers from this curious and bothersome ailment. Quite possibly we are both afflicted but in
slightly different way; DD becomes
rather absent minded and I become rather crotchety – not, I am sure you will
agree, a good combo.
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Morning Ablutions |
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Swanning Around |
This time around Full Moon- Itis Manifested itself in a
couple of notable ways. The first was
when I asked DD to turn on the hot water in passing – this is a regular early
morning event – he agreed but shortly afterwards muttered something about not
having turned the gas over and wandered off to presumably correct this
oversight. As we were lucky enough to be
sitting on the very banks of the river and the weather was crisply fine, we had
a cuppa outside the van in the early morning sunshine. Whilst sipping my cuppa, I enquired once
again, “You did turn my water on didn’t you darling?” Darling’s response? A strong affirmative “Yep!” I was understandably satisfied with this
answer and so when shortly afterwards DD headed off for his shower at the
amenities block, I climbed the stairs to the van, prepared myself for a lovely
warm and comforting shower, turned on the tap and...................yep, you
guessed it – the water was stone cold. I
have to say that these caravan parks seem for some unfathomable reason to have
exceptionally cold water in their taps.
As I was already disrobed and in the shower I felt I had little choice
but to continue with my very chilly ablutions.
Needless to say when the bloke told me he had enjoyed a lovely hot
shower, my response was decidedly chilly.
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Hey, How Far Are We From The Sea |
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More Little Cuties |
The week continued in similar vein – just little things
like when I went to capture some shots of the Darling River later that week
only to discover somebody had removed my lens from my camera and replaced it
with an ‘up-close’ specialty lens – nothing major of course, just little niggly
things that get under one’s skin.
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At Least Donald Loved DD - Settling Down Next To DD |
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Odd Lookout |
In DD’s defence, he was feeling a little poorly due to a
very sore knee. Here I suppose is the
crux of the matter. I have had for quite
some time a great deal of pain in both knees and my right knee is all but
useless at the moment. I know it is all
due to weight and all that sort of stuff but that doesn’t make it any less
painful. DD takes my pain in his
stride, but when it came to his knee, his pain and his discomfort,
well ladies you all know how this one goes!
And go it did – there were some upsides – his knee is now almost
completely fine and he does now acknowledge a better understanding of why I
baulk at climbing stairs and hills etc.
I now know too that I must at all costs keep my bloke healthy and strong
forever as he makes such a terrible patient.
He self confessedly does not suffer pain well. Anyway enough of that,
you all know that I love him dearly and wouldn’t want him any other way.
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The Darling River Where It Meets The Mighty Murray |
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Picturesque Church Mildura |
While we were in Mildura we took a drive to Wentworth to
see where the Darling and Murray Rivers combine forces. It was an interesting site to visit as both
these rivers feature so much in Australian literature and history. I am sorry to say, and hope not to offend
anyone, but I don’t really find any of the three iconic rivers particularly
beautiful. The Murray particularly just
seems to be. I mean, I am used to the
beautiful Swan River which seems to sit in the middle of its fertile valleys,
the surrounding landscape gently sloping towards its heavily tree-lines
banks. You can generally tell from quite
a distance where a river is in WA. Here
in SA you could almost fall into the Murray before you realised it was
there. The tree lined banks just don’t
seem to exist and in many places there is no river valley to speak of – the
river just is. I am shocked too at what
appears to be the rape of the river. It
just doesn’t seem to be respected in any way.
I know that it is utilised for cropping and that many people rely on its
muddy waters for rural survival, but it seems a heinous crime the way it is
treated. I know I am out of line here, as we just don’t have the same sort of
major rivers in WA, at least not in the south of the state, but still, I feel
sorry for the river as it seems to garner so little respect.
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The Melbourne - Paddle Steamer |
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Wheel House |
We took the opportunity whilst in Mildura to take a trip
on a Paddle Steamer. These mighty craft
have played such a huge part in the history of NSW & SA particularly. The cruise we selected was just a two and a
half hour trip upstream to and thru’ Lock No 11. These Locks are fascinating structures allowing
larger craft like the Paddle Steamers to traverse long lengths of the Murray
River. For those who are unfamiliar with
the Lock system, it is simply put, a section of the river, walled and dammed
that vessels can navigate into. Once the
vessel is in the Lock, the gates are closed and water is either released or
allowed to flow in, depending on which way you are going, bringing the water
level to the same point as the water beyond the dam/lock. Once the water levels are equal, the gates of
the lock are opened and the vessel continues on its way. I know I have not put
this very succinctly, but hopefully you get the general idea.
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Waving To Zed As We Steamed Past |
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Ghoulish Tree Skeletons On The Banks |
The Paddle Steamer we took was the Melbourne and
theoretically the only remaining original steamer left in the region. The cost
of the trip was just $29 per head, less with Senior’s discount. As boat trips go, it was what it was and
nothing more. The skipper did give a
running commentary and running is really the best word to use here. He had obviously been doing this talk for far
too long and just ran thru’ his ‘patter’ very quickly, without any noticeable
emotion and or interest. Most of it you
couldn’t hear, due to the engines and the paddles. He appeared to be a little self-involved and
probably considered himself just a step above the average tourist. Oh well, we went on a Paddle Steamer and that
was, after all, the objective of the trip.
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The Chook Man Hits Town |
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Looking Down The Mighty Murray |
Mildura itself was a very large country town, most likely
a city in its own right I would think.
It did seem a little like Topsy – appearing to have grown outwards in a
series of busy tentacles and without any obvious rhyme or reason. I would say that you could find pretty much
anything you need there and then some.
Being somewhat town-phobic we only ventured into town on a needs
basis. The door to the van being one of
those needs things. We had really only
just arrived in Buronga CP when I noticed that the door to the van was not
functioning properly. Firstly, as a
result no doubt of the full moon situation, I was blamed for the fault in the
door. Not a good idea! Once we had settled that question DD set
about to try to fix the door. For those
of you with these duel fly-screen/solid van doors you might like to know that
if and when yours decides to break, you do not necessarily need to replace the
entire locking mechanism. All that you
need is a new door handle which can be purchased as a separate item for around
$38 – much less DD suspects than the entire locking mechanism would set you
back. It would seem that the job was not
a simple one and took a couple of days for DD and various other caravan blokes
to fix. Ultimately it was a neighbouring
aircraft engineer who finally worked out how the darned thing went back
together. In the meantime we had all
manner of trouble finding ways to shut the door without locking ourselves
irrevocably inside the van. If ever you find yourself with a similar problem
please feel free to contact us for some blokey advice.
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Entering The Lock (No 11) |
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Leaving The Lock |
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Looking Back At The Lock |
We caught up with Sondra and Dick for another lovely
evening of wine and song before they headed back to Melbourne town. The CP provided fire-places and sold cheap
fire-wood so almost every van along the bank had small fires going in the evenings
and it was to the glow of these fires we watched the mother possum with her
attached babe skittering around the camp looking for hand-outs.
MADNESS AT MORGAN
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Crossing The Border |
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Lettuce Snatchers |
Well, our five days passed pretty quickly in Mildura and
early Friday morning we headed off to cross the border into SA. Due to state borders and fruit fly
restrictions etc we were unable to cross the border with much in the way of
vegetables and fruit. The book did say
tho’ that we could take lettuce with us.
To this end I had a lovely little Cos lettuce tucked away in the crisper
ready for tea that night. When we pulled
up at the Quarantine Station I proudly answered the nice lady’s questions about
fresh produce in the negative, but explained that I did have a permissible
lettuce. “Oh well, not at the moment”
was the quick response. “Due to
icky-sticky lettuce-itis (or some such thing) we cannot allow any lettuce to
cross the border at the moment!” Well,
just great – it was with considerable reluctance I handed over that delightful
little lettuce. I haven’t been able to
replace it yet and feel on some level that she had probably forgotten to buy
her own lettuce when she went shopping and simply grabbed the first one that
crossed the border that day. Of course I
am joking, I’m sure the nice lady was just doing her job, but the book
said...............................!
It was our intention to stop at either Renmark or Berri
to make camp, but as tends to happen when we have no concrete plan, we wandered
aimlessly thru’ both those towns and found ourselves eventually in the tiny and
historical town of Morgan, once again on the banks of the Murray. This time tho’, we can’t actually see the
river from the CP, but we can hear the punt cross the river and see the tops of
the house-boats as they cruise up and down the river.
This is quite a nice little CP and when we first arrived
we were pretty much the only ones here.
We have been amazed at the traffic thru’ this place. Every day it pretty much fills up and every
morning it empties again. It is all
those previously mentioned grey nomads heading home who occupy the bays each
evening. Of course it is school holidays
here too and that does account for some of the traffic.
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Beautiful Old Home |
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More History |
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And Then Some More |
As this is a ‘passing thru’ place, we have met a
considerable number of folk since we arrived here 4 days ago. Now it wouldn’t be right not to pass on some
of the tall tales we have heard since arriving here. We had the pleasure in the bay next to ours,
a bloke who had bin there, dun that, he had been a cocky, a publican, horse
breaker and several other things to boot.
He had the best turn of phrase we had heard for quite some time and
please, if you are ultra sensitive, I would suggest you skip this bit dears.
Just some of the gems this fella passed on were:
With reference to a bloke he had known, “He was so mean,
he crapped at night so the crows couldn’t get it!”
With reference to our gay friends, “Well, they just play
leap-frog don’t they? Only sometimes
they don’t leap high enough” – Now that has gifted me with a mental image I may
never be rid of!
With reference to blokes with erectile problems “Well, I
can’t crawl through the sand hills anymore and leave five tracks”
With reference to taking Viagra – “Nah, can’t take that
bloody stuff, the skin on my eyelids pulls down over my eyes and I just can’t
bloody well see!”
One of the best quotes was in reference to when we was
camped somewhere recently close to a female couple with children. The ‘girl’ of the duo mentioned to him that
she and the other woman were in a ‘same sex relationship’. Our mate seemingly told her in no uncertain
terms and in his usual bluff manner, “well, I just don’t get it, I mean it’s
just a complete waste of fanny.” No – I
kid you not, this bloke really did say that – we are still chortling.
He also told us a story of when he was a publican in a
corner pub in a country town. He had trouble one morning with a remarkably
intoxicated fella. The inebriated bloke,
it seems was in a bad way pretty early in the day, and like a good publican,
our mate ordered him to leave the premises.
Half an hour later on going into the gaming bar, found the same drunk
having a beer with some other blokes at the bar. Our publican once again ordered him from the
premises. Half an hour later, you
guessed it; he found him once again, this time in the lounge, lurking in the
shadows. Our bloke, not to be
discouraged once again approached the drunk and ordered him from the
premises. The drunk on this occasion,
turned to him in frustration, saying “Bloodyellmatey – jusht how many f....ng
pubs dyer own in this flamin’ town anywaysh?”
Yep, he was a colourful one alright. Tonight looks to be interesting too as a
group of senior type footballers have trundled into the park today, along with
a couple of ancient Whippets (cars not dogs), several enthusiastic followers and
I kid you not, a helicopter! It seems
that this group does this annual homage to a bloke who has passed on – DD has
been out chatting and with some of them and there are 20 of them, travelling
around, this time just in this region, but they have been up to the Kimberleys
and all over the place it seems. As I
said it could get interesting – some of the banter I have heard this afternoon
with reference to male anatomy etc hints at a rather ribald group of characters. I probably won’t see DD after dark tonight!
The only other thing of any note here has been the
winds. We have had some near cyclonic
winds since arriving and last night was to say the least a bit
interesting. The temps here were in the
mid 30s yesterday, the sky was leaden and the wind was howling. The dust was thick and we had to keep the
windows pretty much closed due to the pale brown chalky stuff trying
successfully to force its way thru’ the fly-screens. Sitting inside the van with the air-con on
was not too bad, but lo and behold, half-way thru’ cooking tea last night, the
power finally succumbed and we were thrown into dusty darkness with a hot van
and half cooked meal. Oh well, we coped
and oddly enough went to bed at a very early hour. I read for a little while, but trying not to
flatten the 12v gave up pretty quickly and succumbed to a somewhat nervous
slumber. The nervousness was largely due to memories of tree branches attacking
us at Mallacoota not that long ago.
Eventually the screaming of the wind was joined by the clatter of
enormous rain drops on the van and the temperatures gradually dropped away
leaving today well cleansed and crisp. I
took a short stroll this morning and noticed a huge tree split asunder in the
park next door – hmmmm, shivers down my spine as I type. Glad we weren’t under it!
Well, guess I had better leave it for now folks as I
think that will be enough for this time don’t you? I don’t seem to have a great many photos to
share with you this time as I really haven’t been ‘that’ stimulated to take
many (wrong lenses aside). I’m sure I’ll
find something to whet your whistle tho’.
Until next time, be kind to each other, stay away from
the full moon and don’t take any more cold showers than you can help. Stephanie & Co.
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Ancient Whippet |
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Taking A Punt |
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