12/07/21 Roma to Possum Park

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We left Roma in the early afternoon after a morning spent stuffing things randomly in boxes, making sure we had enough Weetbix for the next several days, and ensuring none of our mouse traps were set. The house already smells of dead mice: our neighbours are enthusiastically setting baits which the multitudes of mice are enthusiastically eating before they come to die in our ceilings and walls. We're not alone: dead mice litter the street, footpaths, and outdoor areas. I guess that's what you get in a mouse plague.



We tried to rob a safe on the way through Dulacca. No success, but the building hasn't been a bank for years so no loss either. The chai latte was nice too.





We are in Possum Park tonight.


 Possum Park

Possum Park has grown up a lot since we were here 18 years ago, when four small boys distinguished themselves by dropping rocks down the ventilation shaft of the restaurant bunker and watching them smash on the tiled foyer floor. At Possum Park you can stay in an old ammunition bunker, a railway carriage, or a refurbished TAA Vickers Viscount, or you can be boring like us and camp in a tent which has the advantage of having the tenting area to yourself.

I went for a walk around the bunkers and returned to find Roger ensconced by the campfire with a happy gaggle of grey nomads. We sat there for a while and came to the realisation that despite our grumbling about the number of caravans on the road today we are now a) on the road being nomadic and b) have grey hairs ourselves.

WE HAVE JOINED THE DARK (grey) SIDE!

We watched the TV news in a railway carriage with a dentist's chair for seating and I can assure you there were mice there too.


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