Day two of the camper van odyssey started well with a beautiful sunny morning, weather which stayed with us all day. Probably something to do with not being in Melbourne..
Wayne cooked us egg and bacon sandwiches for breakfast under difficult conditions...despite this the beach tucker was good so we started the day in fine spirits. We had a long days driving ahead of us to get to Paynesville, so we phoned ahead and booked in the Resthaven Caravan Park. Just as we'll we did... Wayne had her heart set on Wilson's Promentary, although what just what Wilson had done to merit this interest and what his Promentary is, or was, remains to be seen. After a very long drive we arrived to find the gate proudly proclaiming that on Tuesday 19th of March the cafe would be closed. It's about 1:30 pm and I've not had my dinner. Bollocks.
We drive on anyway as early indications are that the area is of spectacular natural beauty. Quiet where that went remains to be seen; after kilometre upon kilometre of little more than scrub and fire damaged bush, we give up and turn round. I see the mileage in milking Wayne's faux pas and exercise it to the max. Back at civilisation, some considerable time later, we end up in Foster, where we have a hearty lunch and pick up a few provisions for tonight.
The detour cost us dearly and I get edgy about making it to the caravan park in time. Wayne is instructed not to spare the horses and we head east with an edict of no further stops come hell or high water. The edict is broken to make sure beer is transferred to the fridge for tonight. Who says I don't know what my priorities are?
We arrive just after six, after countless bouts of swearing at the iPad for either losing our location or the map itself. It seems the electrical interweb down here in carrot cruncher land is of a much lower grade than we are used to. Then, within a few kilometres of our destination, world war three breaks out in the jucy campa as Wayne claims to not understand the instructions I'm giving her to get to our destination. Apparently the long trip has caused me to break into pidgin Swahili without my knowing, then? She has trouble with being given some indication of what to expect next, slightly before it comes up on us, and then loses it completely at one junction which was a simple right-left combination. For an hour after she maintains that she could have turned left at a 90 degree right hand bend.......despite showing her the map she denies all logic until finally admitting that yes, we arrived at our destination under my guidance, and no, you can't turn left at a right hand bend without rearranging someone's front garden....
We're all smiles again though after a lovely walk into Paynesville, which looks like an Australian Nantucket. Tomorrow we are ferrying over to Raymond Island where there is a koala colony, and I hope to find an interpreter who can help with the evergreen male-female navigational battle.
Will I make it through the night or will there be patch of Paynesville that will be forever English? Who knows, but there is one helluva big knife in our campa kitchen.......
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