It is sort of going okay, but extremely problematic getting caravan sites. Was trying to be spontaneous and stop where we want and when we want. Never wished to be too tied down to being anywhere at any point in time.Too old and cranky for that nonsense. I know now that methodology of travel is as impractical as turning me into a politically correct person - ain't ever going to happen.
We are attempting to do, perhaps 250km a day in between stopovers. That is a do-able 2 1/2 hours easy drive. We spent an unplanned 4 nights over the weekend in Port Denison, had several caravan sites/station stays in Kalbarri region that all started the answer to the question of " any room at the inn guvnor?" With either a short intake of breath , or with a hearty chortle and helpful advice like " you shoulda booked months ago mate". Not helpful at all. Managed to get into Port Gregory for 3 days. The site is a little old and decrepit, but was okay for what it was. We ended up driving the 60 km into Kalbarri for the day and did the new skywalk thing, which is very well done. To be honest, Kalbarri, has never and, still doesn't float my boat. Truthfully there really is bugger all there to be spending any time in that locale, but Perth people in the best auspices of, "well it is north and it is only 5 hours drive,so why not?", still beat a well worn path to it's door. I don't find the place all that friendly and once you have seen the couple of things that are there, it is time to get out of Dodge.
Port Gregory is a little gem of a place and though it doesn't have the drawcard of the couple of things Kalbarri has, it is what it is. Quiet,relaxing and a nice place to be. It isn't pretentious. What it does have, but doesn't know it however, is my drone. Tried to take an artistic, aerial shot of the pink lake like you see in the guidebooks and the next thing i know is the drone has has gone whizz and whir, shot up and off into the wild blue and pink yonder ignoring my repeated expletives and the hammering of multiple banana finger digits on the control panel buttons to get its little electronic tushy back to my feet. Last seen over Geraldton, i believe. Good job it was only a cheapie, or maybe it was because it was a cheapie that it refused to drone where i wanted it to commence and finish droning. Who knows? All i know is, it has gone to a watery grave somewhere in the middle of said pink lake to be either retrieved by aliens at some point in the distant future, or some intrepid and bearded archeologist resplendent in whatever future generations use as wellies, centuries from now. Pink Lake 1 : Drone 0, with no chance of a return leg in Division 4 of the drone operators league of duff operatives.
Spent a night at Billabong Roadhouse, just for the hell of it and still catching up on sleep with the constant road trains. Won't do that again in a hurry.
Currently sat in Carnarvon and there is the latest tale of woe. My missus is the Dunny emptying queen chez nous. A volunteer position, because yours truly cannot abide bad smells and will throw up at the slightest whiff of anyone else's fart but my own. So, not willing to quash a spirited spouse's enthusiasm for toilet duties, I figured it was a fair swap for doing all of the driving duties. Not that anything brown ever goes down our Thetford's finest. However she earns her name in our house of Mrs Tidy on a regular basis. You would think that a 3 tonne elephant with a prostate issue regularly goes for a leak in our lavvy, because she is out there doing the walk of shame to the dump point,a seemingly impossible number of times in a caravan park stay. I just let her.
To get to the point, she familiarises herself with the location of the dump point, then sets off with purpose in her step dragging the wee receptacle behind her. In broad daylight. Does this woman actually have any shame? Apparently not. The next thing I know she has returned, as upset as I haven't seen since we lost a goldfish last. Seemingly, the little door on the top of the cassette, is just the right size and shape, if you hold it the right way, to slot straight down the dump point hole when it falls out through all of the enthusiastic jiggling. David Beckham couldn't have bent a football as accurately as my missus can drop a Thetford sliding cover down an 'ole. Now here is the conundrum. We are 1 1/2 weeks into a 3 month trip. It was 15.20hrs, in naval parlance. It is a country town where the outdated Western Australian concept of shops being open on Saturday afternoons still holds fast. To even find an RV sales place, let alone find one open until Monday is something of a lost cause, but we try.......and we fail. So, assuming we can find one on Monday, i am pretty certain that we will never find a spare this side of Caravanland Maddington.
It's gonna be a long trip without a lavvy.
Watch this space for further tales of disasters.........
