11/12/23 Driving (In) Rain: Port Victoria to Clare

A month or two ago my old sandals fell apart and I bought myself a fancy new pair of sandals.  My new sandals had little drainage holes in the soles, so that any water that came in could get out and I wouldn't have the squelchy feeling of walking in my own personal puddles.

This philosophy was all very well and good, but the rainy weather exposed a weakness in the drainage hole sandal design.  As I found out, holes designed to let water out work equally well at letting water in.  Thus, wearing my sandals in the rainy weather, I was condemned to wet feet where, in the absence of drainage holes, I would be dry.

Today's travels took place to a sound track of damp squelching whenever walking was involved.  

Wet feet aside, the day started on a high when a pod of dolphins entertained us on our morning jetty walk in Port Victoria.

Hello.  Do you have fish?

We dragged ourselves away from the dolphin show and drove up the coast to Wallaroo. The time had come for Roger to bid goodbye to the walker he had hired from Wallaroo Hospital some weeks ago.  His back, while not perfect, was improved to the point that it was no longer needed. I returned it to the same happy Physio that had loaned it to me, and he assured me that at some stage in the future I would receive a bill for the hire time.

 They were definitely not as grinchy as the door suggested.

Down at the Wallaroo jetty a bulk carrier was taking on grain while out in the Spencer Gulf two more waited their turn at anchor.  "Why couldn't they come when I was here?" wailed Roger.  "I need binoculars!"

We had to make do with walking out along the jetty instead. See the other two ships waiting on the horizon?

We drove across the top of the Yorke Peninsula toward Clare, with a detour through Bute.  The rain and wind came with us.  

Bite proudly displayed the blade of a wind turbine was, because the hills around were adorned with wind turbines which we could not see due to the cloud and rain.  Did we get out of the car to read the information boards?  Not a chance.

Driving through the Barunga Gap, I lamented the cloud and rain that obliterated what would (I am sure) have been a beautiful view.  The wind turbines put on their own cloud and light show as we headed south from Snowtown.

Ethereal light and clouds played around the turbines of the Snowtown Wind Farm.

No sooner had the wind farm cloud and light show finished than Lake Bumbunga came into view to our east.  Lake Bumbunga is the closest large pink salt lake to Adelaide, with the result that it is a frequent destination for people who want to take pink lake photos.  I didn't have high hopes for Lake Bumbunga given that the last two days had put a lot of fresh water into it and the day was overcast and not conducive to bringing out the colour of pink lakes.

I was pleasantly surprised.

Some parts were not as pink as others.  It was a very big lake. Remember the Cheetham Salt refinery back at Price on the Yorke Peninsula?  They have a salt farm on  Lake Bumbunga too.

There was also a monster in Lake Bumbunga.  It lived at the bottom end of the lake, just near the little township of Lochiel.  It's not as shy as its Scottish cousin in Loch Ness.

At the end of the day, in the space of a scant 40 kilometres, we traveled from the salt pans at the top of the Gulf St Vincent, through the wheat paddocks, over the hills and past the salt lake, and found ourselves in the entirely different landscape of the Clare valley, dominated by grape vines and abounding in cellar doors.  Exploring could wait until the sun came out, however.  We squelched our way into another cabin and shut the door firmly against the continuing rain and wind.

The Clare Caravan Park was once a community park which included a fauna park.  The sign was still there, with a big fence and a vigilant emu on patrol.  There was a gate to get in, but it was padlocked.

I went to say hello.  The emu, slightly bedraggled, was not particularly impressed with me.

Rain began to fall again.

I went back to the cabin, left my sandals outside to 'dry' on the verandah in the rain, and went inside to enjoy having dry feet.