I had tentatively arranged to have ‘The Beast’ checked out by a mechanic this morning in an effort to shed light on the continued illumination of the warning light. I was begrudging this decision when I had to get up well before my usual awakening time, to be at the service centre by 8:00AM. I was even more resentful given that the issue seems to have resolved itself and the light has gone out anyway, just as I had hoped it would. Therefore I decided not to bother about taking ‘The Beast’ into the workshop, but I was left with a further quandary. Now that I was up and my cozy warm bit of the bed had disappeared beneath two cuddly pooches, snuggling up to a still sleeping Bec, I figured that I might as well make the most of my early morning.

So instead of returning to bed, I drove to a café in town where I could enjoy a strong coffee and steal some free Internet to upload a few more pictures to Flickr. Actually, that makes it sound much more inviting than it really was. To be honest, I sat at a greasy table in McDonalds, where I did have a coffee, while I availed myself of their free Internet hotspot for an hour or so. I was back at the van by about 9:30AM, to find Bec and the dogs, much as I had left them, curled up under the covers and fast asleep.

Since we hadn’t been able to even guess at how long I was going to be in town, nor did we know what to expect of the unpredictable weather, we had made no plans for today. So it took us a while to get into action, heading back out as a family at a bit after midday. By that time we had been able to make a bit of a list of the things that we wanted to see today, although it didn’t seem too exciting.

The list pretty much went: fuel up ‘The Beast’, go shopping, visit a couple of local art studios, buy groceries and take a tour out of town a little way to a spectacular lookout we had been told was not to be missed, especially on a fine day like today was turning out to be.

The Port Lincoln foreshore.

There was nothing much of interest at the shops, so we headed for the Aboriginal Art Gallery, only to find it closed. I was left wondering if we maybe should have purchased that painting we saw in Ceduna after all. Our next stop was at a fishmongers who put out a lovely glossy brochure proclaiming their fresh stocks of fish and the chance to see the scaly aquatic creatures being processed. Far from what appeared in the brochure, the selection of fresh fish was slim pickings, which became even slimmer if you concentrated on locally caught fish. The processing action appeared to have been completed for the day, so we struck out on that count too.

Another local art gallery was next, this one run by a dear old lady who was happy to have us browse through the few rooms if for nothing else than to give her a bit of company. I think we spent about five minutes looking at the pictures on the walls, then another ¾ of  an hour or more chatting to the proprietor. Everything from our trip, the good old days, country living versus city living, politics and everything in between was covered. Each time we thought the conversation had reached a natural conclusion, she would launch into another heartfelt and generally humorous monologue. We even got a hot tip on where to go for a good feed for dinner which we plan on checking out tomorrow night.

We did finally manage to take a leave of absence, returning to where we had left the dogs in the back of ‘The Beast’. Funnily enough, as we went to pull out from the kerb, a little car stopped in front of us. We were parked parallel to the side of the road, on the wrong side so to speak, but it was the only place we could manage to fit. This little car stopped almost nose to nose with us, the driver staring through his windscreen up at us, an odd look of disbelief on his face as if we had committed the worst possible crime imaginable. I thought nothing of it as we drove out and around him to find that he had good reason indeed to be peering at us with consternation, since it turned out that he was the fool. After all, it wasn’t me that was driving the wrong way along a one-way street. We have found that the drivers around here leave a little to be considered, especially at roundabouts where the use of an indicator must be optional. I have quickly come to realise that the best course of action, whether it impedes traffic or not, is to come to a complete stop each and every time.

I will gloss over our next stop, where we trolled about a couple of supermarkets to collect some supplies, before pointing our way in the direction of Winter Hill. A lookout here provides 360^o panoramic views of the town of Port Lincoln, over the bay and of the surrounding countryside. Given the weather today, our visibility was hampered only by the curvature of the earth, with uninterrupted outlooks right to the distant horizon.

Town on one side.

Country on the other.

By the time we had finished marvelling at the sights and descended back to the van, we were exhausted after a fun day out and about in Port Lincoln, even if we hadn’t seen too much. The dogs on the other hand were looking forlornly at us, after being stuck sitting in the back seat all day. Fighting through our weariness, we hooked them up for a walk down to the beach onto which the caravan park backs. A narrow strip of rocky sand cuts a path between the cold water gently lapping at the shore and a boulder strewn sea wall. The walk took us along the beach a few hundred metres to a short jetty that jutted out over the clear water, before we returned to the caravan along the street, which is elevated above the level of the beach by a number of metres.

Another beach, another walk.

Back at the van, it was finally time to relax, if you count washing last nights dishes before preparing tonights dinner as a form of relaxation. With that all done though, the relaxation could finally take precedence and was keenly enjoyed. Right up that is, until we heard the tell tale pitter patter of a fresh shower of rain that saw us sprinting across the park to where a load of laundry was hanging on the line. The almost dry washing was recovered just in time, as the gentle shower increased to a by now familiar torrent. At least we had enjoyed one nice day out and about in Port Lincoln.

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