Murphy’s
Law decreed that it should dawn fine the day we elected to leave, however
regret is a wasted emotion and so I shall simply add that we have had a good
look around Wollongong, and would be happy to return and to the excellent
camping ground we patronized.
We had
woken earlier than usual, and while this was not intentional, it did allow us
to watch most of Channel Ten’s very last Breakfast show hosted by New Zealand’s
own Paul Henry and his offsider, the lovely Kathryn Robinson. Although we
rarely caught more than ten minutes or so on any one weekday morning,
particularly after the producers reduced it back to an 8.30 finish, we always
enjoyed his quirky humour and provocative style. We read somewhere that New
Zealand is welcoming him back into their fold, despite the faux pas of the past, so perhaps we shall catch him at some future
time.
Despite
the extended television viewing, we were away from the camp before 9 am, and
driving south toward the centre of Wollongong in search of the Southern
Freeway, preferring to ascend the steep escarpment on this more major road than
the Bulli Pass of yesterday. This more southern incline is still long and slow,
particularly when one is towing a two and a half tonne caravan with a standard
non-turbo Landcruiser, and then stuck behind a couple of heavily laden trucks.
However, my husband did not utter one negative word or any comment about the
other vehicles that flew past us; my stern words of the last whinging session
obviously have had effect, for now, until the next time.
We passed
over the same plateau we had walked just yesterday to the falls, on through
expanses of wooded plain, and up and down more hills than we have encountered
all the way up the coast, and that is saying something!
It was
just after 10 am when we pulled into the camp here at Miranda. The office is
closed between 10 am and 4 pm, so the most obliging Brigitte was a little
miffed to have us check in so early. And then to top it off, we didn’t like the
site she allocated to us. We were unlikely to receive television reception
stuck under the tree, the nectar from the flowers was bound to turn the caravan
a spotty yellow and there was also an ant problem, according to the immediate
neighbour. We were moved to another sit, a little begrudgingly. This is the first
time we have had personal dealings with Brigitte; our previous dealings have
all been by email and most efficient. I need to butter her up somehow because I
need her to open some mail that will come here for us and email details from
the documents. Will she oblige? Will I dare ask? Watch this space.
This
morning the weather reports all over the state warned of extreme heat, equal to
that experienced across South Australia over the past few days. It is indeed
warm, currently 30 degrees in the shade
of our caravan, and quite muggy. We still managed to walk up to the centre of Miranda
and pickup a rail timetable, check out the cinema schedule and buy a couple of
grocery items and a refreshing McDonald’s soft serve ice-cream. The shopping
centre is about a kilometre up the hill, a direct route with good road
crossings, all familiar to us since it is only five months since we were here
last time. It is a bit like coming home.
The
final cricket test between the South Africans and the Australians is underway
in Perth. My husband is happy to have good television reception and a touring
schedule that works around that. The forecasted afternoon storm has yet to
arrive; perhaps tonight.
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