Location: ///anybody.namely.inaccurate

After an early morning walk it was a short drive up the road today to the small town of Uralla (pop. 2,421). Burial place of the notorious bushranger Captain Thunderbolt.

We needed to access a laundry, take a couple of long showers refill the fresh water tank and counter the expected high of 35 Celsius with some medicinal air conditioning.

The sweet little Uralla caravan park was just the solution.

After securing a primo shady position, we walked into town to lap the main street before it got too hot.

There were quite a few heritage buildings, local craft shops, an antique emporium, several cafes and a large second-hand book shop (instantly raising the town’s rating by my reckoning).

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We stopped at the corner cafe to appraise the coffee & croissant situation (8.5/10).

Seated at the table next to us were a group of three girls. Under the table was a box containing 3 puppies. At the next table to them was a lady having morning tea with her sad-faced mother.

In an unexpected, spontaneous convergence of our lifelines, and before you could say Captain Thunderbolt, the box was open, the old lady was getting some serious puppy love, the girls were cheering it all, and I was over capturing some pics of the event to send to her daughter.

In other news. It has been a little too easy to let the whole COVID situation slip off our situational radar. Today there has been a flare-up in South Australia with a cluster of cases in Adelaide resulting in border closures and social contraction. How quickly things can flip.

Tonight, after shower & spruce up, we will dine in town. Then, an evening walk to search for Thunderbolt’s grave. Tomorrow we head off to drive the waterfall way.

Onwards.

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