20/03/2024 Gawler to Mawson Lakes

Turns out concrete is a good base for sleeping on, even if it is a bit hard on the knees when crawling around inside the tent. I didn't hurry in the morning. I knew it was going to be a tedious day: a head wind along the Stuart O'Grady Bikeway beside the M1 and then a zig-zaggy route through the suburbs to Mawson Lakes where Roger, bless his little chauffeuring heart, would pick me up and take me home because why sleep in a tent when you can sleep in a real bed with a warm husband to cuddle up to?

 

I exited the Gawler Caravan Park by cycling around the boom gate without using the code, like the antisocial rebel which I am. 

 

I wandered through the main street of Gawler, taking photos of buildings,

 

 

and ANZAC memorial art works,

 

before getting down to business on the Stuart O'Grady Bikeway.

 

The wind blew, traffic rushed past on the Northern Expressway, olive groves, greenhouses, and new subdivisions passed by in rapid rotation. The Gawler Harness Club came and went, the state of the path testament to the fact that the Harness club used the bikeway as their own personal training route.

 

Half way through the morning and making good time I realised that my phone, for reasons best known only to itself, was rapidly losing charge and I risked being set adrift in Adelaide's northern suburbs without a map. This wouldn't do at all so I changed course to the closest public library which turned out to be at Elizabeth, and there I spent a happy couple of hours perusing all the things available in libraries and giving my phone a good talking to (and some charge). I even picked up some light reading, as old books were on sale for 20c each. I know I've previously waxed lyrical about not purchasing things due to weight but how could I resist a 20c book (or two, as it turned out)?

 

Minor suburban challenges faced me on the way to Mawson Lakes: overpasses with too many steps; little streets that didn't appear on my map; the path swapped between quiet roads, cycle paths, and sneaky little gravel paths behind housing developments.  I had to keep my wits about me to stay on track.

 

Sometimes I could pretend I wasn't in suburbia.

 

The rest of the ride was uneventful, my lift arrived as expected, and I went home to be greeted with suspicion by the dog who had decided that he and Roger made a good team and didn't need anyone else. He couldn't sustain the animosity though, being an exceedingly good-natured animal and more than willing to pledge devotion to anyone who gave him treats. We took him for a walk to the cruise ship terminal to watch the Coral Princess leave on its way to Melbourne. 

 

I discovered a whole new secret society of cruise ship spotters.  They spend their time perched on various uncomfortable rocks and platforms to get the best shot of the cruise ships as they come and go, to the grumbling frustration of the fishers who just want to catch fish and who don't care about cruise ships other than their ability to stir up the water and possibly increase chances of catching fish.

 

We finished the day with a walk on the little beach behind the marina, Dog in paroxysms of joy at having two people to walk with.  He swam in the sea, rolled in the sand, and dug furious holes which the ocean filled as fast as he dug them.  He had great fun and earned himself a good hose down and towel dry before he was allowed back into the house.

 

I hate to tell you this but the sea will win.  Every time.

 

 And that was that for the day.

 

Oh all right, just one or two more cruise ship photos.

 

Bye!  Have fun.