14/08/2021 Clifton to Swagman's Rest

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Good Morning from Clifton Showgrounds.

 

All the race horses and their trainers must have a sleep in on Saturdays, as it was at least 7am before a single horse float arrived and someone ambled out to shut the gates, thereby locking us in for the  duration of training. We poured our breakfast cup of tea and took our ringside seats with disproportionate enthusiasm to watch one horse lackadaisically trot twice around the track.

Not very enthusiastic training.
 

Then the horse went home, so we went to the zoo instead.

The Darling Downs Zoo had an impressive array of animals and reported some success with breeding programs to build genetic diversity of said animals. The talks were informative and interesting. The animals appeared happy apart from the lions, who did not want to socialise at all. The crowds were small enough that we could hear everything that was said, and the Llama didn't spit at us. There are no apologies for the animal spam that follows.

Emu.

Royal Spoonbill.  I'm sorry, but I just couldn't take this bird seriously with a hairdo like that.

Baby Baboon.

Giraffe. Just in  case you didn't guess.

The Llamas won the well-mannered feeding award.

Zebras, on the other hand, have terrible manners.

 

There was even a sausage sizzle for lunch! We dutifully collected our sausage in bread and sat in the shade to eat it, surrounded by families with toddlers in various stages of melt down. There's no better feeling than watching a toddler have a melt down and not being one jot responsible for them.

Eventually we dragged ourselves away from the zoo and dawdled across to almost-Pittsworth, to set up camp at the Swagman's Rest.   This is another delightful campground populated by eccentrics and odd-bods, with stunning views down the Felton valley towards Leyburn.

Home for the night: Swagman's Rest near Pittsworth.

View from  the campground loo.  Worth the walk, although I may reconsider that at 2am.

Sit for a bit and contemplate the valley.

The evening ended very pleasantly.  We sat in the camp kitchen in benign temperatures with  only the odd hungry mosquito, listening to other campground inhabitants playing guitar and singing around the campfire.  There are certainly worse things to be doing on a Saturday night.


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