Travel Diary

I muse on the radio I trust we did not create a Cary Loftin, the driver of the truck in the Denis Weaver movie Duel, and we will be into a death race with the truck shortly.

Back to the Cruiser and into another access road. Again there is a car park, again there is the turtle rookery plaque.

Screaming along at 100kph I see something in the middle of the road. I hit the brakes, its Busted bird standing right in front of us.

Whilst we are grateful for not only their knowledge of all things caravanning and their attention to the itinerary creation, it’s the itinerary that is now herding us rather than being the guide. This again stems from the need to be home at a certain time.

The residents are into their own happy hour and are more than happy to be in for a chat. Apparently, they have been on the road for in excess of three years, in fact one of the group is coming up on four.

Once back on the bitumen, yes I have been off roading again, poor headlights, but I did give them a good tightening this morning, we are almost back at the van park.

There is very little room to manoeuvre and I am back and forth not seeming to make any difference. The next door neighbour offers to assist and I take it, ruffling Robyn’s feathers up the wrong way.

Having said that, a chance to plant the pedal to the metal, is never wasted. Everyone but Robyn snoozes on the way home, only waking at times when the GPS speaks, or I have to slow down for road changes

Rain continues for quite some time, then it stops, and the temperature rises marginally. The closer we get to Perth the warmer it gets.

A tea drinker I am not, and I don’t think Matt is either, so the Coke will be part of the Bourbon we can consume.

It is much bigger than the earlier one, and if we really wanted to we could have taken this one home. We decide to return it and as I let it go, its disorientation has it swimming back up the beach.

We need to work “with” the Aboriginal community not “on” them.