15/08/201 Going Nowhere: Swagman's Rest

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 We're getting the hang of this slow travel thing: if we went any slower we'd be going backwards. Which is a roundabout way of saying that we liked Swagman's Rest so much we decided to stay another night.

Good Morning from Swagman's Rest.

This allowed us to attend to pressing matters like reading books, drinking tea, and chatting with the natives. We visited Pittsworth briefly but other than the standard IGA excitement there wasn't a lot to do in Pittsworth so home we went 

Later in the day I headed out on my bike, a move which apparently caused consternation amongst the locals who worried about my safety on the roads.

Blissfully unaware of the concern back at camp, I enjoyed quiet gravel roads through open plains. Truth be told it was a bit of a smelly ride what with feedlots, free range chicken farms, and roadkill: the fresh air wasn't as fresh as it ought to be 

Going up hill..

...and down dale.

And back to Swagman's Rest.

Roger came out to pick me up at our agreed time and I said "No thank you very much," because I was only 2km from home. Roger turned around and went home without me, causing even more consternation amongst the locals and several enquiries as to my health and well being. I'm not sure what they thought had happened: had he not found me, given up, and gone home to drink wine? Or had he found me mangled under a truck, shrugged and said "Bummer!", and gone home to drink wine? Regardless, I rolled happily back to camp totally unaware of the collective sigh of relief as I parked my bike and joined Roger for nibbles. Except I couldn't have any nibbles because he already ate them all.

We finished off a great day with a campfire, accompanied by a grumbling possum soundtrack.

Campfire with owl art in the background.



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