I wasn’t too happy as I retired last night. I tend to come down with a cold or flu 4 times a year on average, and as it turns out it’s been nearly 3 months since we left Darwin, where I had been under the dark cloud of flu like symptoms. So it was no surprise when I felt a stinging, tightening in the back of my throat last night, accompanied by a hammering from within the depths of my head, sore, dry eyes and a claggily clogged nose. I can’t even say I wasn’t expecting it, because I’ve been trying to ignore the tell tales signs for the past few days, so now can only hope that it doesn’t progress into a full blown, bed rest inducing ‘man flu’.

In an attempt to hold it at bay as best as possible, I last night told Bec that this morning was to be set aside for an extended sleep in and under no circumstances would I be rising anytime before 11:00AM. And I stuck to my guns too. Even with Bethany having to be kicked off of the bed several times as she tried her best to instigate an earlier than projected wakening, both Bec and I happily slumbered away the morning. It was right on 11:00AM that we finally arose, groggily from a sleep that could almost have been categorised as hibernation. Thankfully, I awoke feeling much better than what I had when we went to bed, although a distinct feeling of lethargy still encumbered me, while a dull ache coursed through my muscles.

We had little to achieve today at least, so we settled down at the miniature kitchen table in the van to have a late breakfast, while pouring over the brochures for the upcoming places we intend to visit. It seems as if our planned itinerary is changing on a daily basis as we try to make the most of our remaining time on the road and cram as much into the final few weeks of our journey as is possible. We’ve got a pretty good idea of what is in stall for us now though, especially since we have very little time to play with, so we’re starting to make notes of where we would like to return to rather than squeezing everything into the next crazy month of touring.

Such was the lazy nature of our morning, it wasn’t until a bit after 1:30PM that we eventually decided to venture out, stopping first at the cellar door of Boston Bay Wines, which is set midway up a hill overlooking Boston Bay, conveniently located between our caravan park and Port Lincoln. With ½ a dozen wines on taste, I was only going to try one or two, being that I still needed to captain ‘The Beast’ safely into town and back. We got chatting to the affable bloke manning the bar though, and before I knew it, a small sip of all 6 table wines, as well as the sweet dessert wine had passed my lips. It was the dessert wine that primarily caught our attention, so a bottle of that was added to our ever expanding cellar.

From the winery, we made our final trip into town, where a few last minute souvenirs and supplies were gathered, before we returned to the van. All up, we were only out for a couple of hours, but it was enough that by the time we reached the van, I was exhausted. Much in need of a rest, there wasn’t a great deal of time to be had as we started tidying up ready to leave in the morning. If there has been one downfall of the trip, it is the constant need to pack up and move on every few days. I can certainly comprehend how all of the retirees we’ve spoken to that have been travelling for many years, stay put for weeks or months at a time before moving on.

It probably didn’t help that we had to figure out where to store nearly 50 cans of dog food that we had accidentally bought at the supermarket today. They were on special, for a nearly unheard of price, but the shelves were empty. So we asked at the enquiries desk if there were any more in stock as we wanted 24 cans. The helpful girl at the desk said she would have someone check it out for us. It took a while, but a young bloke finally appeared, delighted that he had spent 15 minutes scouring through a pallet of stock, to find exactly what we were after. So impressed was he with his diligence that we didn’t want to burst his bubble by telling him that 4 boxes of 12 cans equals 48 tins and not the 24 that he had somehow managed to equate. So we transferred them all to our groaning trolley and bought the lot, only to be now stuck with the predicament of where to store them all. In the end, much like the fairytale about the princess and the pea, we now have 48 cans of dog food causing a slight lump beneath our mattress.

What a great feed.

It wasn’t until dinnertime that we headed out again, for the 3 minute drive to the Wheatsheaf Hotel in North Shields, which had been recommended to us for a feed. Judging by the number of parked cars lining both sides of the street out front, it is indeed a popular place to enjoy an evening meal. Inside, it looked nothing special, but the dining room was cozily warm against the outside chill. Unfortunately, tables for two were in short supply and although a couple of larger tables remained unoccupied, we were seated in the frigid bar area to dine. Thankfully, we had not long been seated when a table became available inside, which we eagerly took up residence at for what turned out to be one of, if not the best chicken parmigianas we’ve ever eaten. A thick fillet of chicken breast slathered in lashings of tasty toppings there was no chance of us leaving hungry.

Despite our delicious dinner, our attempt at a pokie machine led economic expansion turned out disastrously as we quickly fed $10.00 through the computerised bandits for no effective return. Down on our luck, we headed for home, dashed were our thoughts of being able to update our social media statuses to ‘On Tour: Permanently’.

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