For the first day in almost a week, we didn’t need to be up at any particular time, so could sleep in for as long as we desired this morning. We made the most of the opportunity too, as it wasn’t until 11:00AM that our travel weary bodies roused to life, albeit very lethargically. The recent change in the weather that we have experienced hasn’t helped brighten our moods either, with a rhythmic drumming of rain pelting down against the van the first thing we heard upon awakening. This didn’t bode well for our plans of doing some sightseeing later this afternoon.

In fact the inclement weather was to be a near constant for the day, seeing us darting in and out of the van between showers to complete some chores. Our plan had always been to give the interior of ‘The Beast’ a good overhaul. If there was a way of DNA testing sand, I am certain that grains of silica could be identified from right up and down the west coast. The cleaning of ‘The Beast’ took longer than we expected, as we had to unpack everything to allow us to give it a good once over.

While we were at it, we also used the prospect of a slow day, to give the inside of the van a once over. Sweep, polish, dust and vacuum, we did it all. It wasn’t fun, but it had to be done.

With all of our housework completed, I was ready to collapse back into bed, but Bec had other ideas. Just down the road from the caravan park is the ‘Lobster Shack’, which specialises in fresh lobster, straight from the boat. Bec had first read about this place when we were up in Darwin and has been eagerly anticipating a luncheon of lobster ever since. Today was to be the day.

If it wasn’t for the fact that we aren’t meant to leave the dogs in the van, we most likely would have just walked the couple of blocks, but instead had to load them into ‘The Beast’ for the 30 second drive. They then sat up high and mighty in the back seat keeping an eye on the goings on in the car park, while we went to check out what was on offer.

As well as cooked lunches there is frozen produce and souvenirs for sale. Tours of the factory are also available. I was interested in taking one of these tours, but due to the current conditions, only a single boat had been out this morning and regular factory functions had ceased for the day already. Instead, we salivated over the menu, before settling on a platter for two, which included a serve of chips, salad, a couple of bits of fresh fish, crumbed fish and lobster balls and the crowning glory, a half a lobster.

While waiting for our order to be prepared, we sat in the outdoor dining hall, at long, bulky timber trestles, surrounded by the almost sickly, but delicious aroma of deep fried fare, bemoaning the fact that the weather was so miserable. The rain came and went in dripping grey sheets, blown wildly about by a blustery wind that felt like it contained icicles. For the first time for as long as I can remember, I had to dig out our coats from the back of ‘The Beast’. Even rugged up in jackets, the cold wind was stinging on our still exposed faces, giving our cheeks a freshly rouged look, as we tried our best to formulate a plan that would allow us to turn around and head back up north. Just another few months ought to be enough, but I can’t see our respective employers being so obliging to our wants.

As our number was called to announce that our lunch was served, Bec nearly jumped out of her seat with excitement. Our platter was overflowing with goodies, half of the plate taken up by the lobster. Luckily for Bec, I have no interest in the allure of lobster, so she was free to suckle away at the sweet meat, tugging and tearing it from the grasp of the shell in a whirlwind of flying shell fragments and morsels of flesh. Even a gangly, thick leg was ripped from the body, wrapped in a napkin and secreted away in a pocket for further attention back at the van, where a pair of pliers would be used to liberate the final mouthful of tasty lobster flesh.

Lunch is served.

Tucking in.

Been there, done that. Might be back to do it all over again tomorrow,

Our bellies bloated by the greasy goodness of our lunch, Bec suggested taking the dogs for a walk along the beach on the way back to the van. I vetoed the idea though, after having just spent my morning ridding any and all stray grains of sand from within ‘The Beast’. I wasn’t going to have it contaminated again so soon. Not only that, but the breeze had picked up and was now blowing an almost gale, right in from the ocean and across the van park. In short, the weather was hardly conducive to a relaxing stroll along the beach.

Instead, we cocooned ourselves in the van to watch some more episodes of ‘The Wire’, as the wind buffeted the van. It was so bad, I even considered the safety aspects of strapping us into the bed, just in case the van should be overturned by the wallowing gusts. By this stage, any consideration of going out again was put aside, as I figured that our extra body weight might be just enough to prevent the van from spiraling off into the atmosphere like the farm house in the Wizard of Oz. Although, on second thoughts, being carried off on the wind to a colourful land of warmth and beauty wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.

It didn’t happen though, and we instead remained indoors to escape the drudgery, trying as best we could to ignore the loud creaking and flapping noises coming from outside, while dodging a load of laundry that we had to hang up around the inside of the van in a desperate effort to get it to dry. No questions asked, I’d sooner be whining about the oppressive heat than the aggressive cold.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.