The Spirit of Tasmania

The alarm sounded at 4:30am and team Burton sprang into action.  Within the hour we had breakfast and packed, wound up the Jayco and hitched.  I was a little anxious being responsible for navigating our ensemble into Port Melbourne on time. I have been to Melbourne countless times, but rarely have I driven in the city environs.  Fortunately, as we expected, the traffic was very light given the hour and time of year.  We saw the Spirit of Tasmania  from St Kilda beach and just kept heading towards it. The Dawn Princess was docking as we arrived which caused a lot of congestion and resulted in us sitting around for a couple of hours before we could actually board.  I can’t say it wasn’t frustrating getting up so early only to then wait in a car park with a bunch of other frustrated motorists. In the end we all became quite good friends – something to do with shared adversity I suppose.

Once we got moving, the boarding process was painless.  Rod was a bit miffed that they made him toss out his fruit “but we are not in Tasmania yet!” he protested.  Apparently the boat is considered Tassie, even whilst docked in Port Melbourne. He was even more annoyed when we saw several other passengers on board pull out a veritable cornucopia of fruit and veg while in transit.  In the end we had to supplement our packed snacks with a buffet lunch from the onboard café.  Yeah, it was ok, but I would not like to be suffering from motion sickness and see that lunch a second time.

The Captain had advised us we would experience seas of 3-4 metres as we neared Devonport.  Thankfully it didn’t get that rough and we all travelled without incident.  I was fine, but did have a few uncomfortable moments when a couple sitting a few tables away began ralphing their hearts out.  Special. 

Devonport was freezing, windy and overcast.  We elected not to spend the night at the recreation reserve as the toilets were locked and ended up at a local Van park. It was a bit dodgy, but it was for one night so we didn’t mind. The lady at the reception called Andrew “cobber”. I haven’t heard that in years, not even in Queensland. Rod stopped at the local supermarket to get some essentials that evening and the Cashier asked him if he had just come in on “the Spirit”. “Yes” he replied, “Do I look all wind blown?”  “No” said the cashier, “It’s just that I don’t know you”. ??!!??

The next morning we dropped into the information centre and had a look around Devonport. Then it was off to the Avers Chocolate Factory, the quirky town of Latrobe and it’s interesting antique shop called Reliquaire . Andrew and I goT lost in the shop – it’s hard to explain, so I will just post a few pics.  Next was the topiary town of Railton and then Sheffield, known for its murals.  Just south of Sheffield is Mount Roland which looked pretty impressive. It is part of the Western Tiers and only a dozen or so kilometres from Cradle Mountain - looking forward to that.

That night we ventured west along the coast road from Ulverstone to Penguin.  Astounding scenery once more, reminded me of the road north from Christchurch to Kiakoura in NZ. We had no real plans on where to stay and let serendipity do its stuff.  Serendipity lead us to a freecamp spot behind the Rocky Cape Tavern. The Bogan radar has sounded several times but we are having a great time. Our neighbours are just marvellous and we are looking forward to the Wedding  reception to be held at the Tavern on New Year’s Eve.

 I am seriously running out of vocabulary to describe the things we are seeing so thought I would just post pics. Enjoy!

Sale - Frankston

We spent a couple of nights in Sale. Let’s be frank, it’s a nice place for a few hours but not much else is cooking. I took the opportunity to clean out the van, wash and repack, while Rod busied himself with the kids at the skate park and a Gem museum that was mildly diverting. 

The Van park was busy and there were plenty of people to talk too so the day went quickly.  On Sunday we considered going to the Baptist church but they were having a “picnic and cricket” service.  As much as we were up for a game of cricket, we felt we should try elsewhere. We ended up at the Salvation Army – small and folksy but very friendly.  Does anyone else remember those “cafébar” things that you self serve your tea, coffee or hot chocolate with?  They are these big grey things with the coffee/cholcolate dispenser and a hot water spout. I have not seen one since 1979, but the Salvation Army Corp at Sale has one still in use! The kids had a great time, Georgia ate most of the biscuits and Andrew played the electronic drum kit for ages. No one seemed to mind at all.

Our dilemma was how to get to Port Melbourne at 6.00am on Monday morning.  My vote was to stay at a Motel near the port and then rise at a sensible hour of 5:30pm and saunter down the road with the Van already packed and hitched the previous evening. Rod was feeling much more adventurous, suggesting that we remain in Sale and get up really, really early to pack and go.  In the end we compromised and after church drove to Frankston, which is about 50 mins drive from Port Melbourne, to spend one brief night.

We arrived mid-afternoon, so had the chance to see a bit of the Mornington Peninsula.  We ventured into the Frankston shoreline but were met with swarms of tourists – something we really have not had to deal with so far.  In the end we settled for a drive to Mount Eliza, a pizza and an early night.  Did manage to get a few nice pics of the bay in the late afternoon, very pretty.

 Our alarms were set for 4:30am.

Boxing Day - The Vicorian Alps

No rest for Team Burton this Boxing day: another day of adventure waited.

After breaking camp at bright it was straight up – up the Victorian Alps. Our task was to cross the Alps at Mount Hotham. It was a steep and winding road that had me a tad nervous at times but Rod and Scooby were up to the task.  We started at Bright with an altitude of 200m and reached the top at about 1800m with Bullseye in tow.  Amazingly, there were several cyclists churning away up the mountain also. Crazy!  The scenery was stunning and Victoria again proved its reputation for dodgy weather unwarranted.  Sadly, we were about 5 months early for the ski season.

The drive down the other side of Mount Hotham is a rather tame business and winds itself gradually down through Snow Gum and Alpine Ash forests followed by farmland. We were spoiled for choice at Omeo which had two cafes open on Boxing Day for lunch.  We had been told that the whole state of Victoria mobilises on Boxing Day. Up until now, we saw very little evidence, but the stretch between Omeo and Sale proved it so. As the afternoon wore on, the traffic increased and every third car was toting either bikes, canoes, thatches of fishing rods, tinnies, caravans, camper trailers, roof racks full of gear or a combination of the above.  And that’s not exaggerating. We counted them; it really was one car in three. 

We passed through Bairnsdale and were all stunned when Rod said he did not want a photo. Rod is becoming obsessed with taking photographs and has gone through 3 sets of lithium batteries in nine weeks. He averages about 30-40 a day. And thats not exaggerating, we counted them. I think it is an illness, but he keeps saying that we will thank him one day.  So I guess what I am trying to say is that Bairnsdale is pretty ordinary. 

Rod had booked ahead to ensure we had a place to stop and while sensible, it probably wasn’t necessary. Evenso, we were able to roll into Sale knowing we had a place to sleep and prepare for our journey across Bass Strait. 

Christmas day

Christmas morning was a bit slow to get started. Perhaps the late night and the knowledge that it would be a “different” Christmas meant the kids were not bounding about at the first rays of sunlight.

Presents came first, just a few small offerings for everyone.   The morning was a lazy affair as Santa had brought books for us all and we all spent the first hours of the day reading. Lunch was better than I had hoped.  I managed to get some king prawns, sliced chicken breast and rare roast beef from the Woollies deli. Garden salad, potato salad and Tabouli for sides.  We busted out all our new condiments gathered over the past week whilst in the foodie district  Surprisingly good.   Afterwards was gingerbread for the kids and a Mango for Rod. I was too full and am putting on weight. All those trips to the bakery.

The idea was to have a “day off” but couldn’t help ourselves. After a traditional game of cricket, we motored off  to check out  Mount Beauty, a nearby  alpine village. In the afternoon we joined the locals at the river for a good old fashioned swim and took the air during a turn about the riverbanks.

It was lovely to talk to the families and we missed everyone.

Eventhough you will probably read this well after the actual day, a very happy and safe Christmas Season to you all. Thanks for reading the blog and we promise to have everyone over for post , post -Christmas drinks when we get back!

Christmas Eve - Bright.

I doubt I will forget Christmas Eve 2014. It was a spectacular day that started off like most of the others on our trip so far.

We packed up the van and left Wangaratta with a wave to our friends.  We planned a scenic route to Bright where we had arranged to stay for two nights. This is one of the few times that we had booked a site in advance.

First stop was Beechworth.  It’s  a great little town bursting with history, charm, character and jumping  with  tourists.   Beechworth has lots of boutique craft outlets, delicatessens,  retro style pubs, bookshops and a fascinating historic precinct set amongst the foothills of the Victorian Alps. Just outside the town is a track through a gorge that we decided to motor through. Pretty brave considering we were under tow but Rod was confident and the trip, whilst short, was a taster of the stunning scenery yet to come.

We visited the Beechworth Honey Shop where the children sampled every blend in the range – twice. I reckon they consumed about a kilo of honey between them.  I sampled a flat white from the local roaster and Rod took about 350 photo’s.  One of the many highlights was a visit to the old cells were Ned Kelly and his Mum were detained briefly and also the Telegraph station. This old bloke was sending telegrams by morse code. He told us he used to work for the PMG in the 60’s up until fax’s finally made telegrams redundant.  A few years back someone worked out that you could send a morse signal over a modem line, there is no real reason to do so except that it’s kinda fun.  The kids were fascinated to watch this old guy tap away at a million miles an hour and send Christmas greetings to all the Grandparents on our behalf. In the little display area of the telegraph station was a typewriter.  I reckon it was the same model as the one I typed my Uni assignments on – ahhh how old must I be!  Andrew found it fascinating that I knew how to use it – just like riding a bike, margin set, margin release, carriage return…. He would have typed away all day if it wasn’t time to move on

And move on to Myrtleford we did. A smaller town but just as sweet. We had a lunch break, took and obligatory look at the grass tennis courts, filled our water bottles and then enjoyed a very pleasant drive toward Bright and the Great Dividing Range.

Bright is a beautiful town. We approached from the west along an idyllic tree lined road weaving its way past paddocks full of sleek fat cattle and white sheep. Such a contrast to the land north west of the state.  The Ovens river that dawdles its way through the town is a focal point to gather, swim, picnic or stroll around.

We found our campsite and were delighted to be at the end of a green shady path overlooking the neighbouring farm. The facilities were a “bit dodgy” but serviceable.   There was a few hours of daylight left so we decided to tackle Mount Buffalo.

I wish I was a better wordsmith. I cannot explain nor can the camera capture the majesty of this place. We drove as far as we were able, along the dirt track only open in summer to about 1.5km short of the Mount Buffalo Summit. The final 1.5 km is by foot, which means climbing over huge granite boulders.  Final elevation 1735m (Kosciuszko is about 2230m I think, but nowhere near as exciting)

We experienced Christmas Eve in one of the most stunning places in the country on a glorious summer afternoon and the drive home was equally breathtaking. As we descended the mountain, the afternoon sun dusted everything and turned the already impressive countryside into some sort of Steve Parish print.  I won’t forget it.

And just when we though the day could not get better, we happened upon an evening  carol service at the local Uniting church and sang our little hearts out. The kids were exhausted and even though it was Christmas Eve, they gladly rolled into their sleeping bags. So did I.

Wangaratta

Wangaratta is a good sized town boasting grass tennis courts, a river walk complete with a few good cafes and some lovely building from the early 1930’s Art Deco period. We found a little park north of the town and bunkered in for two nights.  We almost had the place to ourselves. The kids managed to find a few new best friends and spent most of their time bouncing with them on the trampoline, swimming in the pool or holed up in their “den” which was in fact a little recreation room with pool table, foosball, air hockey etc.

Whilst Wangaratta is a nice functional place, our real interest was in Glenrowan about 20 minutes south.  The town where the Kelly gang finally met their end has down a good job marking and explaining the events of June 1850 in a self guided walk. There is a walking trail that takes you past the sites of the showdown. The Glenrowan Inn stood where a horse paddock is now and Ned himself was cut down and captured behind the current blacksmiths place. The Glenrowan train station still exists although trains do not stop there anymore. That’s where they patched Ned up and shipped him off to Melbourne to be tried and hung.

There are the usual clutch of souvenir shops making a living off the reputation and one very high tech animatronic show that recreates the Kelly gangs two day ordeal. It was rather expensive and the guy who ran it seemed like a bit of a nutter – too intense for me, so we backed away slowly and then made a dash for the bakery across the road. Still a good mornings outing, though.

After Glenrowan we drove to a little place called Milawa, probably best known for being the founding winery for Brown Brothers. We paid the brothers a visit along with a few specialty foodie shops and I treated myself to some Beechworth honey and some Milawa Balsamic Mustard. Georgia got herself some local olives. It was just a day or so before Christmas, afterall!

The area has some lovely countryside and proved to be much greener than the areas we had recently visited.

A second night in Wangaratta was welcome to recharge the batteries for an eventful day to follow.

Looking forward to the Victorian High Country and Christmas!

Shepparton

Well we left our friends at the Bendigo North Anglican church and headed east on the Midland highway, steaming towards Shepparton,  8900km of travel, the summer solstice and Christmas all at the same time. It was only about 120k to Shepparton, so it was an easy drive. After arriving early afternoon, stopping in at the visitor information centre, settling into a nice quiet caravan park near the SPC factory, heading to the shopping centre for some lunch, we rested for the afternoon  as it was hot and I think Fiona was correct. I sensed a little travel weariness setting in as if we need to lay low over Christmas and prepare for Tassie. However, we should not miss out on the potential gems that Victoria still has to offer us. Did anyone know that SPC Ardmona stands for Shepparton Preserving Company, that it started up and still operates out of Shepparton?

Shepparton was a scheduled short one night stay with two important assignments. Firstly, late afternoon we rallied to wash the car (Scooby). This was not my idea (nor was the car’s name). I thought travelling almost 9000 kms , the natural dust, dirt, evidence of travel portrayed on Scooby was a sign of legitimacy that grey nomads and fellow travellers would acknowledge and even expect from us to gain their respect and membership of the club as we rolled into caravan parks across southern Australia.  However, I was beaten down by the non-stop protests from my family to wash the car. Being the very reasonable person I am who puts his family’s interests before his own, I finally obliged, but with a reluctant and heavy heart. I can almost picture the scornful looks of the veteran travellers as be pull into camp with a shiny new car. Disgraceful! So after almost 2 months of wear and tear, only one member of the family (Scooby) as had the desperately needed makeover and is looking brand new and top of his game.

Look how happy and smug they are. Do they know what they have done?

The second assignment was to finally attended a community Christmas carols service. So we headed down to the main park in town for the 40^{th Annual} Shepparton Carols by Candlelight. I have to say it was a great night with all of Shepparton turning out, some wonderful entertainers and a grand finale fireworks display that was surprisingly impressive. The only frustration was at times the kids did not appreciate the entertainment in front of them and were shamefully and transparently focussed on the next hot dog or ice cream on offer (which I had to line up for in long queues, such was my dedication to satisfy their base needs).  Well, after a long night of hot dogs, ice cream, fireworks and wonderful singing, we were well and truly satisfied with the evenings events. It was a great night and finally the Christmas spirit was ignited in us and burst forth from our hearts as we made our way home. 

Well done Shepparton, missions completed.

Next stop, Ned Kelly country, Wangaratta 

St Arnaud - Bendigo

The drive from Horsham to Bendigo travels due east along the Wimmera Highway.  The region immediately north of the highway is in drought and we skim past areas that show signs of distress.  Almost all the creeks, dams or levees were bone dry. The farmers were cutting hay to feed the sad looking stock, mostly sheep.  They were being watered from troughs.  The shorn sheep looked white and thin. The unshorn ones looked a shaggy grey-brown and blended into the desolate landscape.

We stopped at a town called St Arnaud. I had never heard of it and the map gave no indication that it was anything more than a whistle-stop.  Turns out, St Arnaud is a brave little town bustling with Christmas shoppers, Lions club raffle ticket sellers and a good dose of municipal pride. We had a choice of bakeries and in one, I was offered the biggest takeaway coffee I have ever seen outside of a Starbucks. I obliged of course.

As expected, the buildings were stoic yet stylish. All these little places have impressive war memorials, especially for WW1 and even the Boer War and I marvelled somewhat sadly how many young men and women sacrificed themselves from these regions. The list of names was long – far too long. The WW2 monuments are generally less extravagant.  One theory I have is purely economic  - post WW2 it took a lot longer for communities to prosper again. The other theory is that the one generation could no longer convince themselves that war was a noble affair anymore.  

 Just next to the monuments stood a Christmas tree.  I have struggled to get into the Christmas spirit this year. We shall be in Bright on Christmas day and I do have some presents for the children. Beyond that, the plans for the day are non-existent.  I have promised to make a bit of a fuss when we get back to Sydney.

We arrived in Bendigo early afternoon and had done our research, deciding to stay at a caravan park on the northside of town. It was lovely. Quiet, clean with beautiful grass sites and a terrific recreation room. We explored the city and climbed the Poppet head lookout.  (A note for my rebellious sister Lynn, the yarn bombers had visited the lookout and it seems their work was valued) We also visited the Sacred Heart Cathedral  set high on the hill overlooking the city and walked through  Rosalind Gardens. 

I must add one snippet here regarding my new found interest in botany. Well, pine trees really.  We have seen a lot of different species and I am trying to cultivate a better knowledge of this genus represented in our fine country. The rest of the family do not share my enthusiasm and I have been called a "nerd" or "pine freak". Most unfair. I was overjoyed when we came across a very mature pinus pinea in the Bendigo Botanical Gardens. This tree gives us the marvellous pine nuts that we value for pesto. I insisted on a photograph despite the mocking cries from my kin. I hope you all enjoy it. 

Bendigo has a lot to offer the visitor and has a fascinating history. On our second day we enjoyed the terrific weather and took a stroll around lake Weeroona. Not anywhere near as big as Ballarats lake but very pretty and full of wildlife including these two monkeys. 

I guess we are starting to be a bit travel weary as we were not particularly motivated to do much sightseeing. The kids just wanted to swim and play pool (that’s the latest boy vs girl challenge) and I just wanted to put my feet up and read. It’s an interesting dilemma – we are supposed to be discovering our country, but honestly sometimes you need to take a break.  Sorry Bendigo, it’s a great place, but as Rod says “I do not think we did it justice”. 

On the subject of reading… I have finished the second book in the Divergent series. Don’t bother people. The first one was a pleasant enough distraction, but the second instalment proved rather painful. I now must decide if I push on through the third book or abandon hope and read one of Rod’s Clive Cussler offerings.   Maybe Santa will come to the rescue.

A high point for the children was seeing a Bendigo street full of houses effervescent with Christmas lights. It helped us to get into the spirit but alas, we missed the Bendigo carols. We have been trying to be in a town for a carol service/carols by candlelight gig for the past couple of weeks but always seem to be a day too late or early.  Apparently Dennis Walters was hosting the Halls Gap Carols last night. What a shame we missed them.

After spending two nights in Bendigo, we packed up the van and drove a few kms down the  A300 to the local Anglican Church. It was full of old ladies and a very personable, charming Rector. He was in his element with the old dears. It was a traditional service that had me jumping from the prayer book to the hymnal and back again. Rod, being an Anglican by birth, navigated the service with aplomb and smiled his way around all the old ladies.  After a lovely cup of tea and some Christmas cake, we pointed the car in the direction of Shepperton and the Goulborn Valley.

On to more adventures!

Ho Hum Horsham

Horsham is a town of about 19,000 people. It is built on the Wimmera river and often referred to as the “capital” of the Wimmera region of north west Victoria. It’s a nice but not particularly interesting place.  The extremely helpful lady at the Information centre promptly encouraged us to visit a place about 25 min OUT of Horsham.  And then, after discovering we were from Sydney, talked about the Lindt café siege for the next 15 minutes.  We were grateful for her filling us in on the siege details ( knew very little about it up until that point) but a little bewildered regarding the fact that she did not recommend anything in Horsham itself.

We did our best to get a feel for the town. It has an impressive Anglican church at the end of a typical main street of a typical regional Victorian centre. Reminded me a little of Mildura but smaller and more generic.  It has an Aldi and an RSL, we patronised both. At the  the latter, Andrew had his face painted as Spiderman. To be honest, it was kinda creepy.

 I am struggling find much else to say.  I know, unbelievable, huh?

Our information lady suggested we go to Mount Arapiles and visit the quirky town of Natimuk on the way. Natimuk apparently had received a Federal grant a while back and embarked on some artsy-crafty town improvement projects. We found the quirky town of Natimuk was, well, let’s just say it was closed.  Strange for Thursday lunchtime .  The only thing that was open was a very average convenience store/takeaway shop, the likes of which you could find in dozens of Sydney western suburbs. Reckon they took the Federal grant and left town.

Arapiles is well known for rock/mountain climbing and it’s easy to see why; lots of craggy, weather beaten cliff faces, canyons and pinnacles with great views from the top.  Fortunately for us, you can drive to within 50 meters of the summit, so we got the views without the rope burn.  At the summit you can see Mitre Lake, a natural salt lake surrounded by Samphire,  Melaleuca and other salt tolerant vegetation.  It was worth the trip.

Not much else I can say about Horsham, so I toyed with the idea of regaling you with “Tales from Bullseye”, but alas most of the shenanigans do not translate well on paper.  Instead, I will try to paint the picture of life in the car while travelling between locations.

I am pleased to report that the “are we there yet” chorus has faded. As long as Andrew can see the Satnav map and has the occasional update of progress, he seems at ease.  He is usually happy to watch out for sheep, cows, wheat, harvesters, tractors, dogs, silos or large trucks and listen to music. Georgia will read. I am the navigator and Rod does all the driving. Rod is extremely patience with the navigator as I cannot express left and right accurately. I know which way I want the driver to turn, just can’t work out what it is called.  I am amazed we get anywhere – but thankfully we have never gotten lost.

We all take turns to be DJ. The Ipad has proved very valuable, it connects to the car audio system and is synced with my Itunes account.  I admit to having heard more Becky G than I care for, but I get my revenge by playing classical or baroque. We have all learned to be patient with the different musical tastes.

That’s all for now, promise to try and make our next blog on Bendigo a bit more engaging.

Grampian National Park

Rod has filled you in on our stopover at Stawell. I think he was a bit harsh on the place simply because the shops were shut on a Sunday afternoon.

Stawell is hurting a bit. The only real industry is a goldmine.  It’s an underground mine at the moment however a proposal exists for it to become open cut that will apparently reduce the workforce required.  It is on the Western Highway, but that doesn’t guarantee a lot of passing trade and the somewhat famous footrace only happens once a year.  The fact that it is about 20 minutes from Halls Gap in the Grampian National Park is probably its last redeeming feature.   In fact, thats the main reason we stayed there.

As I have mentioned before, The Victorian Government has recently changed the way it manages camping in the National Parks.  One is required to book ahead and the fees have increased markedly. The first quote we had for a camp site was $36 per night. For that you get a square of cleared dirt and access to a pit dunny. Hmmmm. 

We looked up wikicamps to see what else was on offer and found a caravan park a few kms out of Stawell. It had terrible online reviews so we were a bit wary. But it was cheap - $38 per night, all it had to have was more than a pit toilet and it would be a front runner.

The caravan park was run down and had not been refurbished since about 1976.  The whole place was on the side of a gentle hill, so every site was uneven to some degree and there were a few suspect characters wandering around.  However, it had hot showers and a pool – just what you need after a hard days bushwalking. We checked in for one night and ended up staying two.

We happened upon a site that was at least level at the axels, made friends with the suspect characters, ended up with terrific neighbours and spent two afternoons in the pool. Sometimes you just need to take a risk.

Speaking of suspect looking folk, Rodney is now looking quite odd with long hair.  I was gazing away at him yesterday and decided he was looking perilously similar to Benny from ABBA. The keyboard player with the beard.  Rod keeps fiddling with his hair and it is driving us all crazy. I have suggested he cut it but he feels that would be a defeat. I feel it would be sensible but am in no position to criticize. My hair is equally laughable and I have taken to wearing a hat – everywhere.  I might try to find some scarves.

I am supposed to be blogging about the Grampians but fear I cannot pen words eloquent enough. They are truly magnificent and hope the pics give you some idea. We have been on several walks and lookouts and enjoyed them all.  To view Mackenzie falls (named after Major Mitchell’s best mate, Captain Mackenzie) one must descend 200 steps.  I didn’t count them but it felt like a whole lot more, and then of course you must climb back up them.  It was worth every one.

Cooling off with a Mackenzie foot spa

 Boroka Lookout was breathtaking and the “Balconies” reminded me of the Blue Mountains, but without the blue gums.

The highlight was the Pinnacles. To reach them you go through the uniquely named “Grand Canyon” which is about 100m deep at best. It is still impressive though, as you get to climb some very steep narrow sections. Georgia loved it. She is very fond of a bit of rock climbing and was hopping about like a mountain goat. 

I wish I had more information about the rock formations and how it all came to be.  The info centre and National Parks office had lots of displays regarding the traditional owners and the dreamtime stories but nothing on the geology.   I have no wifi nor phone service so I can’t Google it (am writing this offline).  However, the National Parks office did tell us of a campsite in the park that was considerably cheaper.  Local knowledge face to face is a must in this business.

So we find ourselves at Wannons Crossing campsite.  For $12.30 we have a cleared space, a picnic table, a fire pit ( sadly total fire ban came into effect today) and a pit loo.  The campsite is very good. It is well laid out and signposted, has easy access and large level sites with no overhanging branches.  The wind is still following us around so we are giving big trees a wide berth.

We easily slipped into bush camping mode and enjoyed the simple pleasures in life like baked beans on toast and a ripping card game, complete with cheating and at least one person getting in a sook. Tonight, I am ashamed to say, it was me. But only after blatant collusion stymied my victory. I was then mercilessly pilloried for throwing a “neddy”.   Rather due to good luck than good management, the Jayco is very self-sufficient. The 12 volt battery works a charm and we have light, the fridge runs on gas as does the stove to heat up the beans and boil the kettle. We have onboard 40 litres of water (with room for more if needed) and a well-stocked pantry. Who needs anything else?

Tonight we will sleep well. We have put up the bed flys to manage any rain or wind and will not have the freight trucks hawing past as we did in Stawell.  At first Rod and I could not work out why on earth so many trucks were tearing by, then a look at the map showed that the Western highway is probably the most direct route between Adelaide and Melbourne. Not so here. We are about 20 km north of Dunkeld  and 40 km south of Halls Gap off a road that don’t go anywhere else much.  Bliss.

Our itinery for the next two weeks is very fluid. We are booked on the Spirit of Tasmania ex Melbourne on December 29^th. Until then, we plan to avoid the Victorian coast as it is getting busy and the park prices are now in high season. We will take this opportunity to see a few of the more remote places and give our tourist dollars to some of the north west regions hit by drought.  At the moment we have no idea where Christmas will be, but Lord willing, we will have a happy time regardless.

Thanks for reading !