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For our three days in Tumby Bay the wind was raging consistently, but on our last morning we woke to the sound of waves breaking on the shore. We hadn't heard this before due to the blaring of the wind. This morning broke still and warm and sunny.
We moved on to Port Neil, a small town further up the coast. The best thing I can say for it is it had a nice beach, and that was what we needed as the day was turning into a scorcher. The caravan park was very basic, but we got probably the only site with some shade, but right next to the toilets and camp kitchen, so there was a bit of traffic.
So we headed straight for the beach and tried to swim - being obstructed at every turn by the motorised watercraft that dotted the water and often skimmed across our path. There were jet skis and motor boats, often towing blow up rafts and donuts. We couldn't go far as we got the distinct impression they were not looking out for swimmers, and it was every man for himself.
The beach itself was lined with shacks. Not the colourful bathing boxes like in Brighton, but ramshackle constructions of fibro and cement board opening right on the water. And as if that was too far for their occupants to walk, most felt it necessary to drive down on the sand and erect their shelters, complete with barbecues and copious amounts of alcohol. And of course, the motorised crafts.
Tumby Bay did have a few beach shacks, but they were tucked away at the far end of the beach beyond the caravan park. And even these were certainly of a better standard of construction. Port Neil was definitely exhibiting its boganic leanings.
The next day was still hot, but grey and sultry. So we set off for our next stop, Arno Bay, figuring we may have better luck with a nice beach. Arno Bay had a strange set up, the town being right on the highway but with no sign of a beach. Following the directions to the caravan park we found ourselves driving right through to the other side of town, then through a big empty space of scrub, then eventually hitting the beach. This part of town consisted of the caravan park on one side, and two streets on the other - lined by beach shacks again, with their traditional fibro and cement sheet construction. Whether the people here were a bit more classy, or just a bit poorer, there were less motorised crafts, and none down on the sand.
Between the caravan park and the shacks sat the only shop in the place - a café advertising its signature dish, the 'Arno-rmous' Burger, the size of a dinner plate. Could not let the opportunity pass us by, so we shared one together.
Although it was still hot, it was cloudy and humid and sticky, so we decided to move on to our next stop - Cowell. This was a bigger town, and as we walked down the main street the wind picked up. We entered one shop hot and sweaty, and emerged a few minutes later to find the wind had turned southerly, much cooler, and blowing a gale.
More on Cowell next entry.
GeorgeY's Bit
Port Neil is not far from Tumby Bay distance wise. Both have a jetty and a nice beach with calm sheltered waters. Tumby Bay has wide streets and a manicured beach front esplanade. Contrasting the 'Grand Design' of Tumby Bay, Port Neil has excelled in the opposite direction. If Tumby Bay represents the Paris end of the Eyre Peninsula, then Port Neil is at best the Bonnie Doon end. The only beach access is by walking through gaps and driveways of the random dwellings cluttering the beachfront. Most of these beachfront boxes are made from the finest cement sheets with a hint of asbestos. Boxing Day here is celebrated in a traditional way by driving utes on the beach and setting up large shelters with huge beer filled Eskys next to a massive BBQ. On the water, kayaks, boats and Seadoos (PWCs) reflect the well-to-do status that is occasionally reasserted by some high powered hooning on the water. I like the Kerrigans form the movie "The Castle" but the problem in Port Neil is there is too many of them and nothing else.
Arno Bay is an all-rounder. While the beach front shares the same design, or "lack of", as Port Neil, there is a gap of no man's land, then grain silos surrounded by what was a bigger town before mechanisation stunted its growth. Helping it to grow is the take-away shop making the not yet discovered but well signed "Arnormous Burger". I think they misunderstood what growing a community really implies, but nevertheless I was happy to sample their approach.
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