25 May 2013 - Advent Park, Maida Vale, Perth, Western Australia

The morning arrived with no further inspiration than a reminder to top up the diesel tanks of the landcruiser and replenish provisions. From the bus I had seen that Gull in High Wycombe was offering the best price per litre, however that was yesterday and this morning it was up a cent. Fuel prices are so varied, even between the same brands. I also discovered that my local Gull Service Station is not really a service station at all, just pumps and computers on the corner of the street. That accounted for the fact I was unable to pour any fuel into the tank before prepaying by card. And prepay is an absolute menace; how on earth are you supposed to know how much fuel the tank will take? And worse still, in my very limited experience of filling with fuel here in Australia, the clicky thing on the handles do not stay put and click off when the tank is full, as they do in New Zealand. So you have to hope like hell you can hear the whoosh before it all comes back out at you. I guess I do have an advantage here; I use the same sound gauge for filling the water tanks on our motor home in New Zealand. I ended up putting some of my pre-allocated fuel allowance in the main tank, just in case. That will stuff up Chris’s fuel consumption records!

And I have spoken the “N” word; I am not supposed to compare anything with New Zealand. I had been so good about that!

In fact it was not really my day with electronic service; at the supermarket the self-checkout computer kept asking me stupid questions such as the weight of cornflake packets and the like and each time I had to get the “helper” to wave her authority pass over to clear this nonsense  She is of course not there to help at all, but to see that people cheat the robot. She would have been glad to see the back of me today.

The rest of the day was spent turning my eyes square in front of the computer screen, messing about with genealogy  with such an opportunity offering one could hardly do otherwise. I had been tired after all the walking of the week; one slack day is excusable, tomorrow had better be more active.

Tonight there is action on the caravan roof; possums or nocturnal birds, I am not sure, nor am I willing to go check it out. In the distance beyond the camp boundary, the youth of Perth are proving they are as every other hoon around the country on a Saturday night.