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So far just about everything on this site has been posted by Garry. I set it up and posted the first few lots of photo's and then Garry took on the job and has been religiously blogging away and doing a fantastic job.
Anyway here we are with only 3 weeks left and I thought I might add a blog or two and I should say they are not neccessarily about what we are doing now as there has been so much over such a short time. So if you have been following the journey I am going to go back to the west coast just before Broome to a little spot called Barn Hill, highly recommended to us by our lovely friends Debby and Dean.
At Barn Hill we met Caroline and Steve who had two young boys, Harry (4) and Thomas (9.) Our camp was on the very cliff front with beautiful sweeping views of the ocean and red cliffs. It was also on the main path to the back beach which is where I first met Caroline. I was sitting limply out the front of our camper recovering from a terrible bout of gastro that had recently struck us all in turn when Caroline and her family strolled by. "Oh look, young people!" she remarked waving excitedly at Garry and I. Having spent most of my time so far between our white washing up bucket and the toilet block I hadn't yet seen much of Barn Hill but if our experiences so far were anything to go on I supposed she was referring to the lack of young people in the immediate vicinity.
The only other person we had met was Fred, an elderly gentleman with bristly white curly hairs covered only by a black pair of stubbies and sometimes a white singlet tucked into stubbies. Fred had moved twice since we arrived. Initially he was behind us and then he moved next to us.
"That spot your in is my sons, he'll be down Wednesday" I heard him tell Garry. "How long 're you here for" he asked.
"Oh, maybe a week" Garry told him.
Fred was noticably irritated by this it being Monday at the time.
Fred was intent on having the greenest plot in the caravan park. He had sprinklers running back and front of his van constantly which was mildly annoying for several reasons. Firstly, it meant that we had to unplug a sprinkler or use our precious water tank. Secondly, it meant there were regularly muddy puddles around our camp where a sprinkler had flipped over and been gushing into the same spot for to long.
On one occasion Garry was interrupted by the kids while mapping out our next week in the 'Camps Australia' book. When he returned to his book it was soaked with water from Freds sprinkler. Garry was not happy and I had to console him for several minutes in the camper before going back outside to rectify the sprinkler situation.
Early the next morning we were woken by a piercing noise at about 6am. We both jumped up startled and Garry peered out the window where Fred was filling his water tank.
"Whats going on?" I asked.
Garry moaned and burried his head under the quilt. By about 7.30am we were all sleeping soundly again. Garry and I had a chat about being calm and patient with the older tourists. I was becoming increasingly concerned that Fred might become Garry's breaking point as we had all been ill and Garry was not sleeping well at the time.
Garry was starting to get his own back by what can only be described as 'winding up.' We seemed to be attracting ants at our camp and had to make sure we cleaned up the sink area well and didn't leave any food scraps out. One morning Garry went to brush his teeth only to find his toothbrush covered in little black ants.
At about midday I could hear Garry talking to Fred about the noise from his water tank that morning. "I think its the non return valve is broken" he told Fred. Garry then went about explaining how he could fix it. I thought, how nice, Garry can be so helpful when he wants to be. Then Garry began telling Fred about the ant problems. I heard him digging through the bin to show Fred his toothbrush.
"They're everywhere" Garry told him and then "you better watch out mate when we leave those ants will be coming over to you and I tell ya, you can't keep them out!"
Fred scurried off into his van and I could hear banging and clattering and him telling his wife.
"Right, where's the ant killer Maralyn."
Later that day Garry and I where relaxing outside of our camper having a cold beer and some nibbles. The sprirnklers where bringing the lawns on a treat but Fred had a new obsession with his satelite dish. He stood just a few metres away turning it this way and that and calling to Maralyn through the window who I imagined planted in front of the t.v. inside. At first I thought she was calling him through the window 'Fred, Fred, Fred' and he wasn't answering, either he couldn't hear her or he was being ignorant. Garry and I looked at each other quizically, then Garry said in a lowered voice "she's saying red"
So as Fred turned the satelite dish Maralyn called out "red.........red..........red...........red.............green.................red" and so on while Fred fiddled impatiently with the satelite dish. Every now and then Fred would call back "take a rest love, take a rest" and Maralyns monotone would stop for a minute.
Then Maralyn called out "Oh that can't be right!"
"What luv" called Fred
"Its perfect" she announced then again "red..........red........" and so on.
Garry cupped his head in his hands.
- comments
Deb and Dean Hi Gina and Garry, I don't know how long ago you posted this blog, but I have just read it. It is so funny.....I know, I know, it wasn't at the time.. I think you should write a book of your travels.. See you soon Deb and Dean
Rose Stout Hi Gina Garry Cam and Heath - Gina that story so funny the pics r beautiful looks like ye r having a ball see ye soon guys love from The Stouts xoxoxoxoxo
jaci Great writing grooves, i agree with dean and deb you should write a book of funny stories throughout your travels.