Location: ///jumped.tenant.gosh

Parked up this evening right out back of the Broadford Bowling Club. It’s super quiet here, just the occasional skwaaark of a Cockatoo. Oh, and an occasional goods train clakating past.

Despite this being a legitimate camping spot for campervans, and despite it being Saturday night, it looks as if we will be on our own. Juno has set up station at the bedside window just in case of Zombie incursions.

After settling in*, we went for a short walk into town. It was even quieter than our campsite. Seems most of the residents are down at the oval watching the local AFL match.

Back to Ripley then.

Now I’m on my second beer, and have eaten a whole bag of pretzels & nuts. For me two beers = destination stupidity (followed rapidly by destination bye-byes). Kelly is doing her best impersonation of being the responsible adult.

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* “Settling in” consists of :

1. Finding a parcel of relatively level ground to park up Ripley.
2. Arguing for 5 minutes over whether that area over there is actually more level than this area over here.
3. Moving over there.
4. Noticing over there it is right under an overhanging widowmaker gum.
5. Moving back here.
6. Forward a bit
7. Back a bit.
8. A bit more.
9. A bit more.
10. Aaaaaaaand….STOP.
11. No, that’s too far.
12. Hang on a sec…what about over there!

If you have ever travelled in a caravan or campervan with your significant other, you will be well familiar with these sorts of….ahem…conversations.