Three days in Port Fairy.
Defying all laws of physics our laundry bag seems to expand at a rate exactly 2.4 times faster than the combined volume of clothes we have been wearing.
Long walks around the town. It has a marina, so we wander the jetty discussing alternate realities where we sail full time (discuss: catamaran or monohull? Its kinda like caravan or motorhome) visiting pacific islands, drinking coconut milk cocktails and circumnavigating New Zealand before making our way up to explore the inside passage of Alaska. Like I said its alternate. So, my debilitating seasickness, navigational ineptitude and seafaring virginity don’t count.
There has been some pretty big surf here. In fact, the sound of the surf was so loud last night that Kelly prodded me awake at 4am.
“Ian, are you awake?”
“Listen! I think it’s a tsunami”
“Thats nice….spuggerspil toffrillsib”(unintelligible garble).
“No seriously!” *double prod*
“Errr…I think we are OK. I would be seasick by now if we were floating.”
I admit it. I am not particularly useful if there is a disaster at 4 am. In fact, I have seen first-hand the absolute awfulness left in the wake of a tsunami. So you would think I would be a little more responsive when the shout goes out. But no, at 4 am it’s pretty much unintelligible garble and involuntary anatomical movements.
You should have seen me on the night shift in the ED. Did I tell you about the time I was having a lucid dream whilst giving CPR?
Tomorrow we are on the road again. I’m not really sure of our destination. We are debating a drive along the Great Ocean Road, or heading up to explore the Grampians or just scooting up over the top of Melbourne to see the Yarra Valley area.
It’s all alternates. It all depends on the winds and prevailing seas.