Hiatus 2: Working in Mannum
There I was, working away in my little motel room while rain tapped on the roof and clouds settled on the cliff behind the motel. The motel had washing machines for free but I had to buy detergent sachets at reception, which opened at 8 in the morning.
"I'll wash all my clothes," I thought. So I put all my clothes in my laundry bag and there I was, fronting up to reception at 8 on the dot, all decked out in nothing but my decrepit old puffer jacket* and underwear.
It turned out that the reception area doubled as the breakfast buffet for functions at the motel. There was a big Probus convention on and everyone had turned up for breakfast, all of them nicely dressed in proper clothes, with their shoes polished and lipstick where appropriate.
It slowly dawned on me that I may be lowering the tone of the establishment somewhat. I tried to behave as if olive green puffer jackets that double as camping blankets were the new salmon pink twinset. I wore imaginary lipstick and pretended that I had brushed my hair.
"Can I help you, love?" Shouted the staff member who was supervising grilled tomatoes and mushrooms.
"I just want some laundry detergent," I said meekly.
There I was, shutting myself into my room to work in my underwear (no video calls today and the puffer jacket was too hot), drying laundry festooned around my ears, hiding from the well-clad Probus crew**.
It's a glamorous life, cycle touring.
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| PS Marion, available for functions and river tours, and much better dressed than me. |
*Don't worry, it's a long pufferjacket. No occurance of indecent exposure.
**I'm sure they were all very nice and quite possibly didn't notice me at all, being much more focussed on whether to have eggs poached or scrambled.


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