Our little electric fan heater had been playing up on this trip. The fan had been slow to start going on the occasions we had used it. Last night it actually glowed red all over! Quite scary. It had been our camping heater for over twenty years, graduating from tent to van, so it had done well to last this long. But now we would have to buy a new one, first chance we could, with mornings so cold.
John studying the maps
Decided to walk the Burbie Canyon Trail, before lunch.
Called into the Visitor Centre to book some more nights. There was a different lady on duty, who was much more helpful. At her suggestion, we bought a NSW Country Parks Pass, for $45. This saved us the $7 day fee charge, bringing the daily fee down to $20. She even deducted the $21 of day fees we had already paid, from the cost. Since it was quite possible we could be visiting other NSW Parks within the twelve months, this could save us money. At worst, we’d be out of pocket $10.
Parked Truck in the little parking area, beside the main road through the Park, then set off on a narrow walk track that followed Burbie Creek up through a little valley – the canyon. The walk up the canyon was really pretty. Dead cypress pines were hung all over with pale green lichen strands – looking almost like decorated Xmas trees.
Burbie Canyon
After a km turned left onto the Burbie Fire Trail, a gravel vehicle track – very smooth walking – that took us up steadily uphill for a km, to Burbie Gap. That section gave us quite a little workout. The Trail then turned left and took us down along Belougery Creek for a bit more than another km, to Camp Wombelong, back on the main road. From there, we had to trudge about 700 metres back along the road, to Truck, completing the circuit. The road walking was less pleasant, but there were few cars and being in the bush was enjoyable. In all, almost 4kms walked.
Walking up to Burbie Gap on the fire trail
We both pulled up ok after that walk. John was very pleased with how his hip managed. After overhearing other campers talk about the Breadknife/High Tops Walk, he was determined to do it tomorrow.
After a late lunch back at camp, we had a leisurely afternoon. I wrote postcards to the grandchildren, and did some sewing.
About 4pm I walked up to the shower block, hoping the water would still be warm – solar heated! They worked on a sensor, where you swiped your hand across the sensor and then got 5 minutes of water – and the sensor was not within reach from the showers! The water took over a minute to warm up before I could even get under it, but I managed a very fast hair wash.
We again had happy hour sitting round our little camp fire, watching the stars begin to appear in the sky.
Our fireplace
I made a tea of chicken noodle soup from a packet, enhanced with bean shoots, grated ginger and beaten egg, followed by corn cobs. Healthy?
Last night, as expected, was very cold indeed. It got down to 3 degrees in the van. There was little incentive to get out from under the warm doona.
Eventually, needs must, and once I’d crawled out of bed, up I stayed. It was well before John surfaced. I sat outside writing up my diary, drinking coffee. Then went for a walk around the campground, had a good study of the walks booklet, maps and tourist information.
Breakfast and lunch happened fairly close together, this day!
John wanted to know the details about the walks available. I suggested we try some of the easier ones, to see how we would go. But then he looked at the maps and decided we would have to try the Breadknife/Grand High Tops walk while we were here. We did the Grand High Tops Circuit Walk in ’97 and I remembered it as tough, and I was a darned sight fitter back twelve years ago!
The Grand High Tops on camera zoom. The walk ascends into the cluster of four peaks to the left
As it was too late today for even him to start out on the more ambitious walk, I did get him to agree to some more moderate ones, first. After all, we were here for at least a few days, no point in killing ourselves at the outset.
So we set off to do the two nearby short “Nature Walks”. Drove around to the Visitor Centre to do the Gurianawa Track, a 1km loop from there. It was an enjoyable little walk, giving views across the flats and to the peaks.
Kangaroo hiding, with Belougery Spire and Crater Bluff in background
It was designated a wheelchair suitable walk, so was a very easy one to walk. The highlight here was when John spotted a very pretty, golden, streaked little bird in some bushes. He correctly guessed that it was a Golden Headed Cisticola – he is really good a bird ID’s. We had seen one before, but not very often.
Drove back around to the day use area at the Canyon Picnic Area. Stopped by Wambelong Creek there to look at some birds. These days, it was getting hard to spot a bird species that we hadn’t seen before – apart from the really rare, elusive or remote ones – so seeing a Diamond Firetail drinking at the creek was a real highlight. Alas, could not get a decent photo of it though.
The creeks here seem to only have occasional waterholes at the moment, so that affected the chances for bird spotting. This area seemed to have missed any significant recent rains.
We wondered if there was a hole deep enough in there for a little bird’s nest?
The Wambelong Nature Track read like it was going to be really interesting, following the creek through a little gorge, with some notable volcanic related features. However, part way along the walk, the track was blocked off, for safety reasons. so we ended up doing a back track instead of a circuit. I think we thus missed the best bits.
Once was a bridge, on the Wambelong Nature Track
That was enough to start to loosen up the legs again.
Set our camp fire in our fire pit and had happy hour to ourselves, after which I cooked up some fish and french fries for tea.
Ever the optimist, John decided to have a fiddle with the TV and was delighted to discover that, not only was there TV here, but the picture was excellent – and on all channels. I was not so delighted.
The night sky was full of stars, so it was going to be another cold night.
THURSDAY 30 APRIL GILGANDRA TO CAMP BLACKMAN 135kms
I woke early, to another chilly morning.
Took my coffee, radio and diary writing materials over to the camp kitchen, where I could sit in the sun and listen to the ABC news without disturbing anyone.
We left the park about 10am, and drove back over the Castlereagh River bridge, into the town, to stock up on some supplies, given last night’s change of plans. Then, back across the river and northwards again.
The Newell Highway north of Gilgandra, had narrower road lanes, fewer passing lanes, and was hillier than further south. This meant greater potential for us to be having a tail back of trucks and other travellers – never pleasant. However, it was not too bad, and John did manage to pull right over in a couple of places, to let others through.
It was a very scenic section, almost park-like in places, with distant hills.
We had one coffee stop, at the Spire View Rest Area. With a name like that, I was expecting a great outlook, but it was not a stand out.
At the very helpful Visitor Centre in Coonabarabran, I bought a walks guide for the Warrumbungles, a map of the National Park, and postcards – of course.
The Timor Road into the Warrumbungles was sealed, but narrow, winding, hilly. One steep uphill section had us down to first gear, and a downhill run saw us in low range. We had not travelled this road before – on our previous visit, we had used the “back” route, through Tooraweenah. It was more demanding for the driver than we had anticipated. But it was really lovely – farmland for much of the way, but always with the rugged, often conical mountains looming around every turn.
Passed the turn off to the Siding Spring – one of the world’s significant astronomical observatories. It was set up here after Canberra’s development caused there to be a lot of light in the sky at night. Out here, the skies are clear for much of the year and there is no light pollution.
Managed to find a place to pull off the road a bit, in order to collect some firewood before we reached the National Park. Having a roof rack with a mesh base made wood collection easy – just had to throw it up there and it would stay put. We did not need a great deal of wood as we tend to have small fires for some cooking and atmosphere, rather than the great, wasteful bonfires that some campers seem to need.
First stop in the Park was the Visitor Centre. It was modern and featured some interesting displays, but the staff member on duty came across as disinterested and unhelpful, fortunately not our usual experience in National Parks! She was an aberration.
This was not a cheap park, we found. We were pleasantly surprised to find there were powered sites to be had, but these cost $20 a night, plus a $7 a day park use fee – $27 a night in all. For that, apart from a place to park, and power, there was a central ablutions block that provided hot showers and flushing toilets. So, the fee was probably not too excessive.
As we drove into Camp Blackman, the camp area did not seem familiar. There had obviously been major changes since 1997. Initially, we came to a newly developed area for caravans: power posts, neatly laid out gravelled bays – quite close together, dividing beds with plantings that would, one day, provide some screening between sites. Not quite what we were seeking, in a National Park. Fortunately, John did not settle for that, and drove on further, before committing ourselves. We crossed a creek and came to an older section that was much more to our liking. Two large areas, amongst trees, along the creek, had two or three power posts each.
We set up in the further clearing, at some distance from the only other rig there, by a power pole and fireplace/BBQ. Some distance up a hill was a rota-loo toilet, clean and not very smelly, and closer than the main ablution block near the groomed area.
Set up at Camp Blackman; Mopra Creek in background
From our site, there were some views of the main peaks of the Park. It was very pleasant, we thought, and much nicer than the new area we’d first come to. A real bonus was the discovery that there were four bars on the mobile phone – therefore, we had internet too.
The Grand High Tops from Camp Blackman
Set the rig up fully for a several day stay. Had a late lunch, then went walking out onto the nearby cleared flats, following a rough track. Apart from exercise, we were looking for photo chances and bird life. We did find numbers of kangaroos and emus but not as many birds as I would have expected.
The Warrumbungles are the remains of a major centre of volcanic activity, dating back more than 13 million years ago, caused by the tectonic plate containing eastern Australia passing over a “hot spot” deep below. The slow drift of this plate over the hot spot caused a chain of related volcanic areas, from what is now Cape Hillsborough (the oldest one) south to Mt Macedon, the youngest – although there are younger remnants beneath Bass Strait. Subsequent erosion has left the resistant volcanic plugs that solidified in the old lava outlets, standing stark above the surrounding landscape – the main features of the Warrumbungles. And that’s the geography teacher in me, talking!
This Camp Blackman area was, in pre-National Park days, the site of the Blackman family’s homestead and farm buildings, and the open flats had been crop land on their “Belougerie” property, which became part of the Park in 1969.
Going walking…
Further out along the flats walk, some white observatory domes at Siding Springs could be seen up along the ridge line.
White dome at Siding Spring Observatory – on the back ridge line
Today was a sunny day, but tonight would be cold. We’d been told there was frost in Coonabarabran last night. I heard on the radio that Melbourne had its coldest April night for fifty years and that it was minus 15 degrees at Charlotte’s Pass in the Snowy Mountains. I was glad that we did not, after all, visit the Canberra part of the family – we’d have been there now. Brrrr.
By dusk there were some more vans in our clearing, and a camper trailer, but all at a good distance from each other. That could be the drawback to this older area – no delineated sites.
We joined some neighbours round a campfire, for happy hour. Both couples were on short breaks, from homes near Sydney. The imminent retirement plans of one set had been put on hold, due to decline in the value of their superannuation – an increasingly common story these days. The other – younger – couple were preparing for an indefinite trip and were very interested in finding out about work opportunities for travellers, and the jobs we’d done.
It was a pleasant evening in a great spot. The night sky was brilliant with stars. It was wonderful to be back in the “bush”, even if it did come with bells, whistles and a price to match.
WEDNESDAY 29 APRIL WEST WYALONG TO GILGANDRA 340kms
Yes, it was a really cold night! About the only drawback of a poptop caravan, that we’d found, was that the vinyl sided walls of the poptop seemed to allow the inside to be colder when the outside was chilly. But, against that, the cross ventilation allowed by the zippered flaps made hot days more pleasant inside. And we did spend much more time in hot places rather than cold.
It was hard to venture out of the warm bed, so it was another 10am departure.
The Newell Highway passed through attractive country, in this part of NSW. There were always hills somewhere in the distance, and scenic variations to keep the drive interesting. There was generally no more than forty five or fifty minutes between towns or villages, which provided more variety.
There was, as we expected, lots of truck traffic, in both directions. We were overtaken regularly by large trucks, but this did not cause us any issues. John always attempted to use the CB radio to let the truck driver behind know that we were aware of him coming up behind us, and used our lights to show when it was safe to pull in front of us again. I would expect that the long-haul drivers of the Newell were pretty experienced and on this part of the highway there were lots of places where overtaking was easy.
We stopped at a very pretty park in Peak Hill to eat lunch and stretch our legs a bit.
In the much larger Dubbo, we were able to park the rig in a side street and went shoe hunting. Eventually fetched up at Athlete’s Foot and bought a pair of very comfortable specialist walking sneakers which were, by a huge margin, the most expensive footwear I had ever owned!
John found a car radio type shop. He wanted a new aerial for the CB, as a recent encounter with an overhanging branch appeared to have terminally damaged the existing one. He found what he wanted, on display, but the assistant on duty couldn’t work the stock computer and didn’t seem very interested in helping, anyway, so John walked out. Said he’d spend his money somewhere that deserved it.
By the time we reached Gilgandra, it was time to stop for the day. The caravan park there was a member of the OzParks group, so we joined that on the spot, for $16, and our site then cost $20. It was a large, park-like establishment with lots of trees, bordered on one side by the Castlereagh River. The amenities were perhaps a bit dated but they were clean enough. We found it a pleasant place to stay and it was set far enough back from the highway to mute the traffic noise in the night. Yet again, we were able to stay hitched up.
Grey crowned babblers at Gilgandra
We went for a walk around the park. It was large enough to make this worthwhile exercise. Right up at the far end, a couple who were obviously longer-term dwellers, had established a thriving vegie garden. It was not just a few pots or boxes around their van, but several big beds. There was obviously no water shortage here – we were envious of their productivity. Our recent summer gardening back at home had been limited by water restrictions that had seen us showering surrounded by buckets to catch water that was carried out to water the tomatoes!
After browsing through some of the tourist booklets that I’d picked up over the past couple of days, John floated the idea of detouring to the Warrumbungles National Park for a few days. I liked the suggestion. We’d had a brief visit there, back in 1997 Term 1 holidays, after attending step daughter’s wedding in Sydney. It was tent based camping then, and we’d really enjoyed the place. We should be able to do some walking and it would be great to stay in a “bush” setting again.
We both slept in this morning, possibly due to the overcast, dull morning. So, even though already hitched up, it was 10am before we were ready to leave.
The rain had let up during the night, but the ground was still wet.
The Mid Western Highway, eastwards, was wider than the road yesterday had been, but the edges were still very soft and John was very careful not to stray off the sealed stuff, at all. We saw places where vehicles had driven off the black top and bogged.
Stopped for a coffee break at Goolgowi, familiar from previous trips north to Qld. However, this time we would not be going north from there, towards Hillston and Cobar, but continuing eastwards.
While drinking our coffee, watched some ringneck parrots, who appeared to have a nest in a nearby tree – or else be sussing it out for one. It was the first of this type of parrot seen on this trip.
A pair of Ringneck ParrotsThe yellow ring at the back of the neck explains the name
Our lunch stop was at Rankins Springs – I’d made sandwiches before we left this morning. Whilst eating, we watched babblers and apostle birds pecking about on the ground nearby.
By this time the previously flat plains had become more undulating, even hilly. Much more interesting and cheerful….
I noted that the caravan park at Rankins Springs would be alright for a future stay, maybe to explore the nearby Cocoparra National Park.
From here, it was a pleasant run through farming country, to West Wyalong. We passed what appeared to be a very large olive growing venture.
Booked into the Ace Caravan Park, for $23. Found this park quite good and would certainly stay here again. It was still being actively developed and improved. Most sites were drive through style and attractively set out. By late afternoon, most were occupied. There was a railway line behind the park, but no trains went through while we were there.
Drive through – stay hitched up sites for greatest convenience
After a minimal set up, we walked the length of the town’s main street. I had hopes of being able to buy some new sneakers. The walking we’d done at Echuca and Hay had resulted in very wet feet, because I’d picked up the wrong pair of shoes from outside our back door at home. Instead of good solid, walking suitable sneakers, I’d brought my older gardening ones, complete with soles cracked right across. From the top, they didn’t look much different.
The only sneakers I could find locally that were anywhere near sturdy enough were also white! Not exactly a practical colour for my lifestyle, so I passed on buying those. Maybe in the larger centre of Dubbo?
Detoured into a supermarket and bought some groceries. There were more than I’d expected to need, so the walk ended up doubling as weights training too.
There was still some cloud about, but it felt like it was going to be a really cold night. I was glad I’d packed my woolly bedsocks.
John was feeling rather frustrated by the short stages we had done to date – not his preferred travelling style – and so said that he wanted to reach Lightning Ridge tomorrow. I had planned to stay at Peak Hill, where we had never stopped to look about and where there was a caravan park I wanted to sample. But, must keep the driver happy, so wasn’t going to make a fuss about that.
Due to the rain we had not done any preliminary packing up, so it was well gone 10am before we pulled out of the caravan park.
A little hiccup had occurred when we couldn’t find the locking pin for the Treg bolt. It must have been loose in the van boot somewhere. This was pretty full of “stuff”, so we eventually used the spare I kept in the cutlery drawer. Must remember to replace that.
In the continuing rain, we drove north into NSW and on to Deniliquin. The road roughly paralleled the Murray River or tributaries, with swampy sections or billabongs coming close in a couple of places. But overall it was not particularly interesting – mostly broad grazing country. Tree lines marked creeks or rivers and the occasional homestead complex provided something different to look at, as did the small town of Mathoura, about half way.
In Deniliquin, we pulled into the van parking area so thoughtfully provided, and walked to the nearby shops to buy papers. John wanted the football post mortems from the weekend.
Whilst walking, saw a big flock of silvereyes in some bushes.
We stopped to look at a community art work project – featuring utes (utility vehicle) as objects of art. I took a photo of the very first one of these that had been completed – a mosaic covered ute. “Deni” had attempted to tackle the difficult task that faces such rural towns these days, of finding some unique niche that would attract visitors. Their quite successful solution had been to run an annual ute muster – a kind of festival and get-together for ute enthusiasts from all over the country. The art project was a spin off from that, I guessed.
Mosaic covered ute at the home of the Denni Ute Muster
We headed north again, out onto the Hay Plains. Flat, featureless, unattractive, especially in the continuing rain. According to some sources, the Hay Plains are the flattest part of Australia. Not only were they flat, but barren too.
After some time of the monotony of the plains, a single, tall dead tree came into view, with a big eagle’s nest in its few branches. It was so stark and somehow symptomatic in its deadness, that we simultaneously said “photo”.
The Black Swamp
The bitumen part of the road here was a bit narrow, so John pulled off onto the gravel verge – and down we sank! I couldn’t believe it.
Truck’s driver side wheels were about 1cm off the bitumen, the van wheel on that side was still on it. But we couldn’t drive out of it – trying only made the van start to move sideways, sliding down the roadside slope, threatening to pull Truck down backwards with it. It didn’t take much imagination to envisage the van slid right down, at right angles to truck….
The most innocuous looking problems can be the worst….
I went and took photos of the tree that was the cause of all this, while John pondered options. We had never before been bogged with the van on. As with previous times we had bogged Truck, there was never an accessible tree or pole within cooee to attach the winch to. There must be some sort of rule of stuck vehicles – like, never where convenient or easy.
While we were trying to come up with some solution, a 4WD came along. This was not a very frequently trafficked road, either. We waved him down. He turned around – very cautiously – and came back to us.
We used our snatch strap and he pulled us forward and thus out – carefully, but easily.
We were very relieved. It just seemed so ridiculous, given all the hairy places we had taken the van, to be bogged on the verge of a made highway!
Later, we found out that this section of the plains is called the Black Swamp. That explained why I felt the ground was spongy underfoot, when I walked up a little track to take my photos. I also found out later, that the Black Swamp was supposed to be haunted by the ghost of a dead drover, who appeared as a horseman riding – but without a head! Given the nature of the country here, it was believable! Not somewhere I would want to do an overnight camp, for sure.
We drove on to Hay – carefully and uneventfully. Decided to stay the night here. It was still raining, and we’d had enough adventures for one day!
Went into the Hay Plains Caravan Park, for $21.60, after discount. We were able to stay hitched up, which was a bonus.
Did get a bit damp, doing the minimal set up, and felt the need for some exercise, so – despite the rain – walked to the shops. This took us across the bridge over the Murrumbidgee River – like the Murray had been, very low.
At the Visitor Information Centre, I collected some propaganda, otherwise called tourist information. There was a featured display of local postcards, prominent amongst them one of THAT tree! It kind of added insult to injury. I bought one to send to grandson; thought I could spin a pretty good story on it, for him.
We found a hardware store and bought a new coupling pin, to be the spare in the cutlery drawer.
The forecast was for very cold nights in inland NSW, this coming week. Not sure this trip is getting any better……
The wet, cold and windy weather continued. I’d dug out my woolly socks and polar fleece jacket, and was mostly confined to the van. The country needed the rain, of course, and lots more of it. I just wished it didn’t have to fall on us.
I did manage a short walk along the river bank. The gum trees were very aromatic after the rain.
The paddle steamers were such an integral part of being here. They churned past. regularly, and we heard their high pitched, distinctive, whistles, a lot. There seemed to be three or four taking tourist trips, with a couple offering meals afloat, as well. Right now, they did not have all that much river to float on. Had to be bad for business, as well as making navigation trickier.
To enliven the otherwise dreary day, we drove to the Beechworth Bakery to get lunch. Despite the name, we did not have to go that far. This well known brand started, as the name suggested, in Beechworth, and gained a bit of a cult following, so had expanded to other places, like Echuca. I had the Beechworth Bakery Cookbook at home, and had made some of the recipes within, so really wanted to take this chance to sample their wares. We indulged in savoury pastry things – pie and pastie for John, spinach and fetta concoction for me, and shared a vanilla slice. The bottomless coffee was excellent. They were doing a really good trade, justified, because the food was really good.
Drove up past the Murray River Sawmill, previous source of red gum for John. We were pleased to see that it was still there and functioning although, being Sunday, was closed. This was probably fortunate, otherwise there could well have been another shipment of timber making its way to our place. I collect cookbooks, John collects timber – by the cubic metre.
Did a small shop at Safeway. John insisted we used the self-help checkout, which I was dubious about, having previously experienced hassles in these with the types of fresh produce I was buying. Some 30 minutes later, and after 5 calls on attendants for help, he finally got us clear with our purchases, and barely on speaking terms with each other. I had intended to use our $20 bowls prize voucher here, but decided things were already too complicated. We used it when Truck was fuelled up, instead.
I cooked meat patties for tea, using the electric frypan outside, under the awning roof. It was very cold out there, but at least I avoided condensing up the van interior.
When I went outside, first thing in the morning, found that rain through the night had pooled heavily on the awning roof. We had overlooked the need to have the corner poles at different heights, so rain would run off. I got rather wet draining the large pool of water off – most of it onto my feet and legs.
I sat outside, under said roof, with my morning coffee. Watched the neighbouring Phoenix van owner hitch up. His weight distribution bars seemed to bend greatly once their chains were hooked up and lifted. It was such a heavy van. The bars looked the same as ours, but ours stay straight. I wasn’t sure how much bending was acceptable though.
After coffee I walked up to the shops to get the weekend papers and post grandson’s card. Most shops were closed, either for the whole day, or until 1pm. Groups of people were obviously heading for the Anzac Service at the town Memorial, which I passed on my walk back.
There were not all that many tourists around, though. The caravan park had been nowhere near full last night, despite what was intimated to us when we booked in, in order to get us to commit to the whole four days at once. I thought the rain and dismal forecast may have caused cancellations.
Low Murray River. Steps on left were usual access to moored boat.
John had surfaced when I got back. Read the papers for a while, then it was time to head off to bowls. When we got there, found the start time had been put back half an hour, due to the Anzac occasion, so waited around, trying to be social.
There was not a large turn out – again, probably due to the weather. We played in rain showers and gusty wind. We were drawn in different teams. John’s team won the prize of $20 of vouchers, redeemable at local shops. A useful prize. We finished in profit for the day – the princely amount of $5, given entry fees of $5 each and $5 spent on the obligatory post-game beers for our opponents. High finance!
A woman I encountered in one game really annoyed me. Originally from England, she was complaining that their investments had lost so much that they could not afford to go overseas for their usual annual four month trip to the UK. She would not countenance that travel within Australia might be a good alternative – it was “too boring”, the “villages are all the same”, though she thought Perth passed muster – barely. She wouldn’t consider going outback, although her husband would really love to drive up through the Centre, because there were snakes and spiders there. What a blinkered outlook. It took a lot of self discipline on my part not to start talking about spiders and snakes around Moama.
Just after we got back to the van, heavy rain set in, accompanied by thunder, lightning and big wind gusts. Most unpleasant.
I cooked tea of cheese omelets and green vegies. The poptop side flaps were zipped up against the rain, so there was lots of condensation from my cooking on the vinyl and metal frame. I don’t like having to cook enclosed in the van, for just this reason, but sometimes there is no other option.
To annoy me further, the omelets stuck to the pan, so turned into scrambled cheese.
There was a different van next to us, tonight. It did not seem to have a maker’s label, but the label read something like “our van by XXXX and YYYY.” It looked to be about 18 foot long, but only had a single axle and seemed too long for it, at the back. It had no weight distribution type gear either. They had a domestic reverse cycle air conditioner built into the rear of the van; the noise from this kept going on and off all through the night. I felt this was really inconsiderate. It was not quite as noisy as the roof mounted ones, but must have been very intrusive for the family in the camper trailer on the other side.
In the wee small hours, I pondered the question: are fellow travellers becoming less considerate, or am I becoming less tolerant, as I age?
Some rain set in through last night and today was cooler and cloudy, with some rain spells.
We spent a quiet day: some emailing, John gaming on his laptop, me studying share prices and trends on mine, and then reading the daily paper.
Between rain sessions, we managed a walk to the shopping centre, keeping a wary eye on an ominously huge cloud build up to the north.
I bought a newspaper, and a postcard for grandson – predictably, of a paddle steamer. Hardly a novelty for him, who has visited Echuca himself a few times, but there wasn’t much else on offer.
The drought had lasted so long that vegetation had regrown on banks where the river level had dropped
The caravan park partly filled up as the afternoon wore on. Our new neighbours were from Qld. They were not happy about the weather.
Being Friday, indulged in the weekly fish and chip treat. We found a promising looking, award winning establishment, and ordered our usual meal of fish, chips, potato cakes and a dim sim for John. It cost $31. Ouch! That was definitely NOT usual! It was very nice; the barra really was barra and not the Nile Perch that is often substituted, but the serving of chips was miniscule. If that was gourmet fish and chips, I’ll take the plebian variety, thanks.
Echuca was a costly place to stay. I was not sure I would like to live here, subjected to a tourism-determined local economy.
On TV at night, watched St Kilda demolish Port Adelaide: the season had begun well for “my” Saints.
This Adventurous Age 