The day started with showers just as yesterday and I had my doubts about
succeeding in the laundry department.
The birds were at their urban best; the kookaburras, crows and magpies
later giving way to noisey-miners and unidentified parrots. Back in New Zealand
we had enjoyed the tuis and the pukekos in the Auckland Regional Parks for a
few nights, however to compare the morning chorus in each country is to compare
two tables in a restaurant; one with a long settled married couple and the
other with a female book club on the loose. There is no comparison at all.
Outside the resident bunnies were mozzying about just as they did last
year. Maybe they are neutered; their numbers do not appear to have exploded.
Maybe that is a condition of keeping these otherwise vilified creatures in
urban confines? I guess they are cheaper to employ than Jim’s Mowing or the like.
Actually this lovely spot by Lake Macquarie is remembered for its
special wildlife firsts for us. It was here on the walk around Green Point that
we first enjoyed the carillon-like chorus of bell miners, and
on the same walk I spotted my first live fox. Most of the latter seen since
have lain dead on the road side which gives lie to the saying “as cunning as a
fox”.
Chris moved the landcruiser closer than comfortable to the caravan and
climbed up on the cruiser’s roof to diagnose the leak problem in anticipation
of this afternoon’s examination. Alas it seems the month of airconditioners or
at least their casings. I have yet to mention that some days after we arrived in
New Zealand and collected our motorhome out of storage, we found that the
casing of the airconditioner had been smashed and “repaired” in the most
amateurish manner you could possibly imagine. Worse still was the fact that the
person in charge had failed to communicate this with us or with his superiors.
It did not help us that he was subsequently fired for his action and inaction,
but hopefully will have saved others from becoming victim to his careless
attitude. Hopefully as I write this the big chief with whom we left our
motorhome has the re-repair in hand and there will be no further problems. To
their great credit, management insisted they meet the entire cost of this work
despite our suggestion that we meet them halfway. Alas the motorhome is very
high and the roller door of the storage shed is such a pain to open all the
way!
We walked along the lake shore to Coles and purchased a few items I had
missed in our big shop at Miranda, then sauntered back along the promenade admiring
the many sailing boats anchored in the bay. Mist was still rising from the
valleys far to the west and closer we made out the chimneys of the coal fired
power station at Eraring passed yesterday and that at Munmorah to the south
which we had passed when we came down this coast last year.
Back at camp we packed and hitched up ready to move out. We didn’t go
very far; just up the street where we parked in a relatively flat spot and
lunched while being entertained by a domestic row taking place in the adjacent
street. Who would have thought such an attractive blonde bimbo could have such
a filthy mouth? And not only was the vocabulary not for delicate ears, but it
was spat out in the worst “Kath & Kim”
accent; one that would embarrass most well-spoken Australians.
We were parked in Five Star
Camper’s yard well before 1 pm, and soon unhitched, leaving the capable
service man with a list to tick off. With two hours to fill, we decided to head
the few kilometres south to Swansea which is situated across the opening bridge
at the lake entrance, then east to Swansea Heads where we parked and watched
the waves crashing into the breakwater and small fishing boats battle the
strong currents. We then crossed back the isthmus to the lake where rows of
small fishing boats bobbed up and down waiting for their crew and offering an
interim resting place for a score of pelicans.
Further up the lake at Pelican Flat, we parked and watched even more
pelicans lined up patiently waiting for a couple of successful fishermen to
complete cleaning their catch. I was soon joined by Gwen who told me her life
story, or at least the last five years which explained what she was doing there
on the foreshore watching the pelicans. After some time, her husband, Stan,
came looking for her and I excused myself to join Chris who was patiently
waiting in the landcruiser immersed in the day’s newspaper.
It was still only 2.30 pm when we arrived back to check progress on the
caravan and were duly rewarded to find the work all completed. We paid up and
headed back to camp. There we set up with greater ease than yesterday and found
the washing done earlier in the day, almost dry. A quick burl in the dryer and
then both tucked up for the rest of the afternoon having achieved all the
practical tasks of the day although Chris is still battling a headache even if
he does look better than he did last night.
This evening has seen the first of the school holiday families arrive
with their caravans. A bus load of children for some sort of sport tournament
here in Belmont are haring around like lunatics in the wood floored cabins
close by. Hopefully they should settle down early with the start of their
activities no doubt scheduled for the morning. Chris has just confirmed that
the frog is again under the caravan croaking and creaking his night song.
Indeed this is a surprisingly busy place with wildlife.
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