Our Aussie Adventures

A sleep in was envisioned for this morning, which I was looking forward to. It was all going well too, until Alvin decided to sprint about the van barking madly. I awoke to the cacophony, screaming at him to shut his little yapper and get back to bed. I mean it wasn’t like we were under attack or anyone was trying to get into the van or anything and I just wanted to sleep, so once we cajoled Alvin into getting back onto his bed, I followed suit, falling back to sleep almost immediately.

It wasn’t until several hours later that we surfaced again, me well rested and ready to face the day. Bec on the other hand complained of sleeping poorly again, because she was too hot. Well fool on her, as I had asked her to turn the heater down a couple of notches before we went to bed last night. It’s not easy to sleep when the heater is set to roast.

With no great hurry to get underway, we meandered about having breakfast and getting ourselves ready to go out. We have first to go down to the main street of Horsham to make a complaint at the phone shop, before calling in on Becs step mum, Mary for lunch.

So lethargic were we, it was already almost lunchtime by the time we eventually left the van. So near to lunchtime was it that Bec thought it prudent to call Mary to let her know that we were still coming, despite the slight delay.

Parking ‘The Beast’ in town, we just happened to come across one of Becs uncles, who wondered where we were this morning when the dogs were barking savagely at him through the caravan door. Whoops, so someone was trying to get in after all. Apparently he figured he’d let us sleep after he heard me yelling at Alvin, fearing I would continue my tirade had I have opened the door on him. Nah, I might have calmed down a bit I promised.

We only chatted for a few minutes, as we were in a metered car parking space and had no idea how long we might be waiting at the phone shop to have our complaint heard. We’ve all watched the current affairs shows about bill rage and how people have been charged hundreds, if not thousands of dollars in fees for surpassing their allowed allowances on their phone. I always thought that you’d have to be a bit of an idiot to let that sort of thing happen, but Bec got two messages on her phone the other night.

The first at 1:00AM to inform her that she was approaching the limit of her data allowance. That was no worries, because we had finished with the Internet for the night anyway. The second one came through barely half an hour later, although we didn’t find it until the next morning, to say that she had exceeded her allowance and would be liable for the excess cost. Now that didn’t rub so well with us, so we were off to have it out with Goliath.

At the phone shop, the assistant was pleasant enough, despite not being able to assist us, as we apparently can’t dispute the bill until the bill is actually compiled and issued. She was nice enough to let us know that the source of our bill rage would probably only cost us in the vicinity of $3.00 in excess data charges, but that’s not the point, it’s the principle of the whole matter. We stormed out in a manner that I hope conveyed that we would continue the fight once the bill is issued.

We did eventually make it to Marys place for a late lunch, before we tried to introduce Alvin and Bethany to Charlie, the miniature dachshund. Bethany got herself all worked up, getting so excited that she frightened poor Charlie, who stands barely half the height of our two. Out in the backyard, Bethany and Alvin chased Charlie around until he grunted and scratched at the back door, too nervous to play in his own yard. As a result, our two mongrels found themselves locked in the back of ‘The Beast’ for the rest of the afternoon.

A little later, while I caught up on some much needed banking on the Internet and maybe just a few minutes of shuteye, Bec and Mary went down the street to do some shopping. By the time they returned, laden with the spoils of their labour, it was getting near time to start thinking about dinner. So while they busied themselves in the kitchen, I took Alvin and Bethany back to the van. We didn’t think it fair that they spend all afternoon and evening locked in the back of ‘The Beast’, not to mention that it was time for them to have their dinner also.

With them all fed, watered and walked, I rang Bec to make sure that nothing else needed to be picked up on the way back. Nope, everything was under control I was assured, so back I went. I was literally pulling up the drive when the phone rang. It was Bec. “Can you pick up a loaf of bread on your way back?” she asked. So back out I went, thinking that I was glad we are in town and not free camping out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere that bread might be a little hard to come across.

Dinner followed a similar vein to last night, as aunties, uncles and nanas joined us for a salubrious meal, accompanied by a bottle or two of good red wine, which loosened the jowls as the stories flowed with as much abandon as the wine.

Meet the family: That’s Uncle Kevin, Auntie Sue, Mary is hiding behind Charlie, you all know Bec and ‘Nan’ is on the right.

It was again a late night by the time we ebbed back to the van made even later as I sat down in front of the computer and tried to figure out how to stretch out doing nothing all day into a comprehensible essay befitting entry into my blog.

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

It is no wonder that we enjoy the company of David and Heather so much, when it was agreed last night that this morning would be set aside for a sleep in, a decision I was most pleased with. This allowed us to switch the alarm off and fritter away the morning in a close to catatonic state in bed. Luxury.

When we did finally roll out of bed, it was to find that the forecast 33^oC didn’t look like it would be attained. A thick layer of low cloud obscured the sun and the temperature could best be described as fresh. This discovery was met with disdain, as it put our planned trip to the beach into disarray. We had all envisioned a gloriously warm day on which we could drive ‘The Beast’ out onto the sand, before stopping to unroll the awning to give us a crescent of shade to sit beneath while enjoying a cold beverage or two and dabbling our toes in the refreshing water with the dogs walking alongside us. The current outlook just didn’t support this notion, so alternate plans were discussed when David and Heather arrived.

It was decided that instead of our day by the seaside, we would unpack the fishing rods and try our hand at catching our dinner. Wetting a line and our lips seemed like a worthy substitute, so we took off to find somewhere to buy some bait.

Bait was sourced from the local hardware store, a packet of prawns and a pack of cockles were purchased at the recommendation of the shop assistant. I’m wary of her advice though, given that she had to look it up in a little book she pulled from behind the counter, blowing the layer of dust from it before scrolling through the yellowed pages.

Getting the prawns for the fish to eat got us to thinking along the lines of getting ourselves some fresh prawns to snack on also, so on the way to our chosen fishing hole, we stopped in at the seafood store from which we bought the lobster earlier in the week. There were no prawns ready, but we were assured that they wouldn’t be too long if we waited. That gave us a chance to take a wander around the rear of the factory, where all the tanks are kept, full of live crayfish. It was amazing to see dozens upon dozens laying idly about in the tanks, all graded according to size. The biggest ones in at the moment weigh in at a whopping 3Kg, although we were told that they can come in at double that size. Wow, now they would be absolutely mammoth.

While waiting for our prawns, we also had enough time to take a quick run around the supermarket to pick up a few bits and pieces to go with our gourmet seafood lunch, as well as getting the rods set up for our fishing adventure.

Then, it was on. We trekked our prawns down to the waterfront at the marina, carrying with us our camp chairs, fishing sticks, tackle boxes and buckets. Loaded as we were, we struggled to walk to what looked a promising point at which to drown our bait.

For over half an hour we munched on crunchy fleshed prawns, washed down with chilled lagers, while we cast time after time our lines into the briny deep, pulling in nothing more than hulking wads of seaweed. Between us, we didn’t even feel a nibble, which was most disheartening, although we were at least entertained by a seal that was frolicking playfully about in the water right in front of us.

Our afternoons entertainment was provided courtesy of ‘Salty the Seal’.

Considering the lack of rod bending action, even I was on the verge of calling it quits, when Bec moved a little way further down the jetty, only to feel the unmistakable jerky tugging on her line of a feasting fish that ultimately sucked her hook clean of bait. We moved to the new location and were all soon experiencing the fun of having our bait expertly nibbled from around our supposedly guaranteed, chemically sharpened hooks.

With all the bites we were getting, it was inevitable that sooner or later one of us would manage to pull in an actual, live fish. Thrillingly, it was my turn to shine on the fishing front, reeling in a somewhat undersized whiting. The way I jumped around and hollered about my catch, you could have been mistaken for thinking I’d just pulled in a prize catch. Sadly not though, as I got Bec to take a confirmation photo, before returning the little slippery creature back to the sea.

This one’s a little tiddler. Back to the ocean with it.

Not five minutes later, the tip of my rod bent over as the line stretched tautly and I was again feeling the excitement of hooking another pelagic. This one was a fighter, but it was eventually pulled to the decking, where I was able to stretch it out against the measure with only a little bit of exertion to be able to call it a legal catch. Into the bucket it went and while it wasn’t really enough to feed the four of us for dinner, it would suffice for a little snack back at the van.

Stretched out it’s legal!

On the way back to the van, considering our dismal angling efforts a stop was made at the pub to book in for dinner tonight. The remainder of our afternoon was spent madly running about, tearing down the annex, packing up and repacking ‘The Beast’ ready for having to hit the road again tomorrow. Thanks to the assistance of David, while Heather gladly kept the dogs from getting under our feet, we managed to get the annex packed away in record time.

With that all done, David and Heather retreated to their motel for a rest and to clean up before dinner, leaving Bec and I to finish the big game of Tetris as we tried to fit everything back into its place. I must admit that I also made time to sear the whiting up on the barbeque. Enough for a few bites, it must go down as one of the best bits of fish I’ve ever had, which probably isn’t all that surprising considering the freshness of it.

At 7:00PM, we arrived at the hotel for dinner where we quickly placed our order. Over an hour later it was, before our meals were finally delivered to the table, by which time I was thankful that I had enjoyed my fish for afternoon tea. At least the meals were delectable, even if David had to return his beef schnitzel for the chicken schnitzel he had actually ordered. It’s odd that it can take over an hour to provide us with the wrong plate, but only another 10 minutes to bring out the right order.

Desserts were the highlight of the meal though, with a dense, moist sticky date pudding, floating in a deep puddle of sickly sweet caramel sauce being the source of my enchantment, while Bec chowed down on an apple and rhubarb crumble that was a perfect balance between sweetness and tartness.

Following what transpired to be a marathon meal, we bid farewell to our guests. Unlike when we were left to our own devices in Darwin after our friends returned home, it wasn’t so depressing to say goodbye this time around, mainly because we were already making plans to catch up in a week or so when we return home. Now that there is a few words I’d rather not have to utter so soon, but our trip is indeed reaching its finale.

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