Leaving the campsite at Alexandra Bridge we drove through Margaret River on our way to Bunbury. The chocolate factory loomed in the distance. It engaged its tractor beam and we were stuck there, again, filling our hands with chocolate buttons, and saving money as Oli reminded me.
Back on the road for what would prove to be a mercifully quick trip up the road given the state of mania that now made itself known in the back seat. Bunbury proved to be another Western Australian town of new housing estates and little evidence that people actually settled here over 100 years ago. We visited the dolphin discovery centre and learnt a lot about octopi, but didn't see a dolphin. Perhaps they were off fighting sharks. There had been another shark attack the day before, and all the beaches were closed. They don't close the roads if there's a car accident but at least it gave me a real reason for not being able to get a wave.
At the park, we set about getting the van ship shape for Joc and Tony's imminent arrival. It was so good to see them. The best part was there was no time wasted on "where are you from, where are you going, are you home schooling the kids etc etc etc". It was fantastic to be able to sit and chat, tell old jokes, and relax into a comfortable environment. Like being at home but surrounded by Australian flags, motorbikes, cigarettes and empty vodka cruiser bottles. Oh, and Tattoo Dude showed up too.
 |
| Tony and a cockatiel |
We had a look around Bunbury. We walked with Tua among the Tuart trees, and visited a rundown little bird and kangaroo park which was a surprising hit. The kids had bags of seed and were attacked by cockatiels and parrots. Even Sara got into the act, but Joc stayed put under her umbrella. The weather has been as bad as we have seen it over the past three
months with squally rain all weekend. No leaks in the van though.
 |
| Joc hates birds |
Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Jen up in Perth. On the day we were supposed to leave Bunbury for Busselton, Tony and I drove up to Perth to help her fix up the tarpaulin over the unfinished renovation she and Jim are doing in Fremantle. Again, it was fantastic to see Jen despite the circs. I loved being able to do something useful and different; I even got to use the nail gun, once. I used the fishing knots Tony from Port Neill had taught me to tie the tarp down, which proved a far more successful purpose than catching fish ever did.
The drive back was uneventful, just talk back radio filled with indignant people who had been ripped off by parking officers. Because we had gone on the mercy dash, Sara and Joc had had to take the van to Busselton. They were able to do this without any dramas at all. Parking assistance is part of the deal at the Mandalay Country Club, and by the time Tony and I got home, everything was well under control. Even the beer was cold. As if I could have expected anything less.
H
 |
| Fonzi the Emu |
Back on the road for what would prove to be a mercifully quick trip up the road given the state of mania that now made itself known in the back seat. Bunbury proved to be another Western Australian town of new housing estates and little evidence that people actually settled here over 100 years ago. We visited the dolphin discovery centre and learnt a lot about octopi, but didn't see a dolphin. Perhaps they were off fighting sharks. There had been another shark attack the day before, and all the beaches were closed. They don't close the roads if there's a car accident but at least it gave me a real reason for not being able to get a wave.
At the park, we set about getting the van ship shape for Joc and Tony's imminent arrival. It was so good to see them. The best part was there was no time wasted on "where are you from, where are you going, are you home schooling the kids etc etc etc". It was fantastic to be able to sit and chat, tell old jokes, and relax into a comfortable environment. Like being at home but surrounded by Australian flags, motorbikes, cigarettes and empty vodka cruiser bottles. Oh, and Tattoo Dude showed up too.
The drive back was uneventful, just talk back radio filled with indignant people who had been ripped off by parking officers. Because we had gone on the mercy dash, Sara and Joc had had to take the van to Busselton. They were able to do this without any dramas at all. Parking assistance is part of the deal at the Mandalay Country Club, and by the time Tony and I got home, everything was well under control. Even the beer was cold. As if I could have expected anything less.
No comments:
Post a Comment