I was happy that after everyone had gone back to their own accommodations last night, that I sat down to plot out an exciting itinerary for todays activities. I found it a little difficult, as the information available online for things to do and see in Robe is limited to say the least, but I was able to glean enough information to set a plan in place that would see the four of us enjoying a day out in the surrounding hills, sucking in the sweet aromas as we wound our way from vineyard to vineyard, before returning to take in the epicurean delights of the main street, coupled with a visit to some of Robes more unusual tourist draw cards.

Before any of this could occur, and well before David and Heather were meant to join us at the caravan park, the back seat of ‘The Beast’ needed to be converted from doggy transport configuration to human conveyance. A task that involved giving the interior of ‘The Beast’ a good once over with the vacuum and chamois to rid it of as much evidence of the canines as possible. With both Bec and I toiling away in the early morning sun, we quickly had the back seat looking presentable again. And not a moment too soon, as David and Heather pulled up, looking somewhat more rested than either Bec or myself did in our harried state.

We at least had a few moments to sit down and relax, coffees and energy drinks flowing freely, as I discussed with everyone my carefully constructed plan for the day. With happy nods all round, we loaded up ‘The Beast’, the dogs riding for a change out the back and headed off. My plan called for a quick stop to refuel ‘The Beast’, before dropping in on the visitor information centre, to ensure that there was nothing that I had missed.

While Heather kept the dogs company, David, Bec and I went to scour the brochures at the information centre, never knowing what nugget of information might be uncovered in an elsewise unseen leaflet. Before we left, I queried the girl behind the counter as to the exact addresses for the cellar doors we planned to spend our day knocking on, in the hope of finding a tipple or two of succulent alcoholic grape juice in varieties of red and white. As it turned out, only three of the five cellar doors in the Mount Benson wine region are currently open, so figuring that we were going to have a little extra time on our hands, I asked further of what else might be an entertaining way to spend the afternoon.

It was suggested that lunchtime at the wharf is a bustling time, as all the lobster boats start to unload the days catch. At the mention of lobsters and crayfish, I could feel an uneasy presence at each side, Bec and Davids ears pricking up at the mere reference to these sweet delicacies. I must admit, that it was my own fault, since I asked the next question, querying where we might hope to purchase a lobster or two. The local fishmonger is apparently the place to go, with him having first choice of the critters than hit the docks. With Bec and David now wide eyed and salivating on either side of me, my carefully laid out plans for the day went out the window.

An immediate change of plan saw us unanimously deciding to forgo a day frolicking amongst the vines, for a fresh seafood lunch back at the caravan, although tentative plans were made to head off to the wineries following a feed. So the fishmongers address was quickly fed into the electronic brain of ‘Shazza’, who directed us for a change, succinctly to the nondescript tin shed at the end of a residential road, well removed from the main tourist beaten path.

In the small sales area, in a corner of the main warehouse, we had a choice of giant succulent prawns, juicy oysters, a long list of fish species and of course the crème of the crop, the entire reason for our presence, the bright red shelled, juicy white fleshed critters of the deep, the fresh from the pot lobsters.

Between the four of us, we swaggered out with several bags full of prawns, a couple of lobsters and the entire days catch of fish, which in the interest of full disclosure I must admit consisted of only two medium sized snapper.

Clutching our sacks of lunchtime treats, we made a rapid return to the campsite, where I fired up the barbeque to bake the fish, while David and Bec tore into the lobsters, quickly shucking the tender flesh from the spiny shell. Prawns were distributed, as were glasses of chilled Chardonnay and by the time the shellfish had all been hungrily devoured, the delicious aroma of roasting snapper was wafting tantalizingly through the annex.

Your…

…lunch…

…is…

…served.

Rescued just in time from the grasp of the hotplate, the Snapper was cooked to perfection, needing nothing more for a garnish than a sliver of lemon and a cracking sprinkle of rock salt. Delicious.

With the sun shining and the goblets of wine starting to take effect, any suggestion of resuming our planned day out was put on hold indefinitely. Rather, Bec and Heather decided that the quaint little stores of the main street were calling, while David and I decided an afternoon of relaxing by the shores of the lake, within easy reach of another cold beverage or two was more akin to our wants.

So as the girls went shopping, David and I sat indolently behind the caravan, lunch slowly settling in the pits of our stomachs while enjoying the quite solitude and chance to catch up on all the gossip from home, as the lake water gently lapped the shore right at out feet.

What a perfect way to spend an afternoon.

Heather and Bec rejoined us a couple of hours later, thankfully returning with further liquid refreshments with which we were able to continue our idle leisure well into the afternoon. It came a time however, as the sun began to settle that a chill replaced the warmth of the afternoon and moves were made to retreat to the warmth of the annex where discussions were afoot as to what we should do for dinner.

A booking had been made for a well regarded seafood restaurant, but given the delicious fare we had enjoyed for lunch, it was decided to cancel the reservation in favour of ordering pizzas and eating at the hotel with David and Heather. With the decision confirmed, David and Heather headed back to their room, giving Bec and I a chance to clean up and feed the dogs quickly.

At the allotted time of 7:30PM, we joined the others at their room, where the menu for the pizza shop was handed around. With a number of delicious sounding slices available, it was a drawn out process for us all to pick our preferred pizza. With the selections finally decided upon, David was elected as the spokesperson, making the call to place our order. Disappointingly, the menu has recently changed, leaving us with yet another round of decisions, making a choice from the new menu.

With our new selections nutted out, David and I jumped into the car to go order the pizzas, only to arrive at the shop to be told that they were about to close for the night and that the pizza oven had already been switched off for the evening, although coffee and cake was still available. Flabbergasted, we despondently returned to the car, then toured the town to find that there appeared to be exactly zero places still open from which we might hope to get a meal. It was an awkward silence that greeted me, when I rang Bec to let her and Heather know that dinner might not be a plausible option tonight, while I was thinking that maybe we shouldn’t have cancelled our reservation at the restaurant earlier.

Back at the room, a few more phone calls were made which eventually led us to a café that was able to provide a few pizzas to tide us over for the night. Phew, and here we were thinking that we were going to go hungry tonight. The selection process was undertaken in double quick time and the order quickly placed, so as to ensure that we didn’t again miss the deadline, before David and I again braved the cold to venture out to collect our dinner.

As it turned out, the pizzas were entirely delectable, although that may have had something to do with the eagerness for which we received them, being something alike a condemned man receiving his final meal. The night overall though, can be declared a success as more wine was consumed as the laughs surged liberally.

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