14/5/23 Marking Time in Mullimbimby

Between earplugs and blindfolds, we achieved something like a good night's sleep at the pub.  This was despite the rainbow lorikeets taking over the early morning noise-making baton from the band and hotel patrons down below.  Along with the rainbow lorikeets came the realisation that on the other side of our bedroom wall was some very noisy plumbing being used by someone to have a very early shower.  Mind you, as soon as we poked our nose out onto the verandah we thanked our lucky stars for our dry little room because Mullimbimby looked decidedly damp after a night of persistent rain.

Verandah breakfast of bread and jam.  Alas no kettle, therefore no cup of tea.

Being the wimps that we were, we ditched the idea of riding on the Northern Rivers Rail Trail and went for a drive in the rain instead.  In Brunswick Heads we walked out on the rock wall to watch the surfers in the rain.

 By the time we got to Byron Bay the rain was heavy enough for us to use the umbrellas we'd carried in the car for the past two years and umpteen thousand kilometers.  Byron Bay had just as many characters on the streets as did Mullimbimby, although the ones in Byron Bay worked a little harder to please the crowd.

 

 

While in Byron one must, of course, visit the most eastern lighthouse on the Australian mainland, so off we went up the hill in the steadily increasing rain, dodging pedestrians who had decided to walk up to avoid the hefty fee charged to park at the top.  We didn't park at the top of course:  we chugged up in a long stream of other people also out for drives in the rain, took a quick peek at a very soggy lighthouse through our swishing windscreen wipers, and drove all the way down again in a long line of people doing the same thing.

 

What fun.

 

Back in the Middle Pub it became obvious that no one in Mullimbimby went to work on Monday because they were all partying late at the pub while the rain poured down outside on Sunday night. Mr Tin Whistle still tootled tunelessly outside while inside a group of geriatric musicians made up in volume what they lacked in talent.  The rain, having dillied and dallied all day, arrived in earnest and we snuggled into our slightly uneven bed in our kettle-less room, congratulating ourselves on our fantastic foresight in not being in a tent.

We just missed the Magic Bus.  Who knows where it would have taken us?