PERTH 1 - KINGSWAY CARAVAN PARK AND OUR FIRST CHRISTMAS ON THE ROAD (DECEMBER 2013)

"Well, Liz, it looks OK from here....lots of trees near the entrance,













more down the entrance driveway past the office,

and a shady well maintained pool area....fingers crossed!"

We had just arrived at what was to be our home for the next three weeks or so, The Kingsway Caravan park, Madeley, a suburb some 15 kms north of Perth city. Our journey from The Estuary back into 'the big smoke' had taken us along the Forrest Highway and thence the Kwinana Freeway. After a quick detour into Cockburn Central to source our Xmas seafood supplies (or part of it at least) we navigated our way over the Swan River, past Kings Park and the western end of the Perth CBD and onto the Mitchell Freeway which took us almost to our front door.  

It had been a long time since we had dealt with the challenges of big city traffic. We were focused to say the least. This is when our trusty electronic navigational assistant, 'Ken' comes into his own and we were not let down on this occasion. "In three hundred metres take the roundabout, second exit".  "In eight hundred metres stay in the right lane."  Thanks Ken, we're here.

We had been allocated site 42. As is my usual practice, I walked through the remainder of the park entrance driveway where the surrounds were still looking pretty good






and surveyed the plot to which the Marshies had been assigned. I was less than enthused. What part of 29 feet overall don't some park managers understand?  Despite my misgivings we gave it a crack....hopeless. By the time our A frame was off the roadway, our van was more than halfway past the end of the cement slab meant to accommodate our annex.  



To add to our woes, it was obvious that to fully extend our awning and erect the annex, we would have to engage in some serious tree pruning. This will not do at all.

To give you an idea, here is a tiny mobile home taking up the entire site...we are at least two metres longer!

Before revisiting the office I decided to do a recce of the empty sites with the objective of being able to nominate one which would accommodate us. Given the forecasts I was also keen to find one which provided significant shade and had a level cement slab 

(I had noted already that many were not).  








Site 60 seemed to fit the bill. Its surrounds of bare sand were not ideal, but it was shady, had the added advantage of being close to the amenities block and was not too far from the pool. I was a little concerned that it was next to an old van and tatty annex (this is never an encouraging sign), but decided that the positives outweighed the negatives.

Back to the office...."yes, site 60 is free". Relocation time. And then our next challenge....the slab on this site is so wide that we had to make sure the van wheels were positioned at precisely the correct distance from the edge of the cement to allow me to peg in our long annex wall. It would have helped if I had done what I had been planning to do for ages.....measure the exact width of our annex! The co-pilot did note that I had not yet gotten around to doing this....some comments are less than helpful!

After a bit to manoeuvring I was happy with our position and four and a half hours later we were all ship shape, apart from my knees and back which were all in revolt.  



Erecting the full annex is simple in principle and the majority of the work is straightforward....it is the fine tuning on uneven ground to make sure that the roof will drain the right way and the walls are all reasonably taut which takes the time. Poorly secured and sloppy annex walls become the fiendish playthings of strong winds and in Perth there are plenty of those.



I have to say at this point that the few beers with which I celebrated the end of this day's work were amongst the best I have drunk. There was more to be done to improve our long term comfort, but we had had enough for one day.


The first job for the following morning was to do something about our entrance area....the sand around our site was as thick as a beach and the thought of wallowing through this day in day out for the next three weeks did not enthuse us at all. Out with our trusty C-Gear flooring. This stuff is designed specifically for sand and loose dirt. I know I've sung its praises before....let me do so again. It is brilliant at what it does....not a grain comes through it.  






Job number two...do something to hide the feral campsite next to us. Out came one of the two pieces of shade cloth we normally reserve for use to shade the fridge when we are exposed to sun on this side of the van....all things have other uses!




And then, the biggest challenge of all...television reception. Liz, who is an absolute whizz with our electronics, had tried everything she could to get a picture. No go. Off I went back to the office only to be told that TV was very hit or miss here at Kingsway. What, in the middle of one of Australia's capital cities...how can this be?  No answer to this, but it is a fact of life in this camp, something I also confirmed with others already established on their sites.


I was in a state. I can live (just) without the ABC News, but the thought of not being able to watch the last two Test Matches was altogether too much. We had one last chance. We had been told when we bought the Roma that the modern fitted TV aerials do not function is some circumstances and that the old style DX box we had needed with our pop top Coromal would sometimes do the trick. We have carried it and an extension pole ever since, but never had to use it. Now was the occasion...fingers crossed.  Up it went.  Out came the old signal booster. I stood outside twiddling the pole whilst the electronics queen manipulated the dials and controls inside the van. "Come on Liz, what's happening?" My next three weeks were on the line. "I can only get two channels". "What are they?" "Channel 2 and Channel 9" YEEEES! The somewhat bleak outlook around our site suddenly faded into obscurity!

And indeed we are not in the best part of Kingsway. This is definitely a park in parts. I have already commented on the sand.  Where it is watered, the lawn grows readily and the sites

in these areas are really pleasant. These are immediately across the roadway from us...I have eyed them with envy ever since our arrival.  






Our outlook to the rear is a totally different proposition. Here empty old crumbling slabs 

and rows of old park cabins (still housing permanents of varying degrees of social grace and decorum).







This is a matter of particular ire for us given that there is a large canvas sign hanging on the park fence at the corner of Kingsway and Wanneroo Road which proclaims that this park is now 100% tourist sites.....bullshit it is! There has obviously been some demolition of old permanent van sites and cabins, but at least a third of the park area is still given over to accommodation for those who live here full time  (some in very interesting looking little vans)



Our annoyance has nothing to do with snobbery. We have stayed in other parks where this has also been the case, and have gotten on very well with the folk who call them home. Not so here..there is no incentive to do so, nor, having had to watch and listen to what goes on, any desire. But having said that, we have settled in and are making the most of it, albeit with everything in the annex well and truly locked up. In the Perth climate the fact we have a great deal of shade is worth putting up with other inconveniences, including the incessant noise of our other immediate neighbour's air conditioner which runs non-stop even during times of strong, cool breezes. Odd to say the lest, these folk. 

Christmas approaches. But before that big day is another...our wedding anniversary.  I forgot our first and blithely went off to crew in a twilight sailing race. The shame of it...especially when I arrived home at about 2130 hours to find a card on my dresser!  Never again I vowed.  I even made a diary entry in the next year's calender on the spot.  

Have you guessed yet?  Yep, in all the excitement of what was going on here at the Kingsway I did it again. And once again it was a card waiting for me on the dinette table which alerted me to my transgression.  Ooops!   I decided that a belated card was not really the answer.

My very forgiving and forbearing wife deserved more than that. The roses on the table as we toasted our anniversary (and our survival to date on the road) were the least I could do.

All who know your scribe will be aware that I am an unabashed and dedicated fan of Christmas, its decorations, and a traditional roast turkey lunch.  I was determined that the fact that our home is now mobile should be neither an excuse for no action in the decorating department nor an impediment to a positive outcome. The treasurer did suggest that financial restraint would be a good idea....she has a way of evoking genuine obedience to these edicts....I was circumspect in my purchases.  






Christmas cards always make for a festive feel. Fortunately our mail arrived in time (thanks again, Cath) and up they went on all the van window pelmets.






This came in very handy just before the big day.  We had received an e-mail from HMAS Melbourne telling us that a Christmas Eve BBQ and concert was planned for the ship's company. Family members were being asked (at very short notice) to e-mail a photo and greeting. Unbeknown to the crew, these were to be shown on a big screen on the flight deck during the evening. I was determined Stu should not miss out so Liz set up our camera and we managed an emergency 'selfie' and sent if off post haste. Stu was tickled pink (we had a very welcome phone call on Xmas morning) 

Back to the Xmas decorating. I had found a small, self lit tree for the annex table, 

and as you have seen already, exterior coloured lights to string around the awning and ropes. How to tart up the annex was the challenge. Tinsel. That should do the trick. I have always been somewhat disdainful of tinsel, but needs must. A red table cloth, some Xmas place mats a 'Merry Xmas' poster and a few bonbons all seemed like a good plan.

Liz added some dark pink hibiscus flowers she had spotted earlier in the park, and we were set.


Now I know I have already described how we planned to break with tradition and have a seafood Xmas. I did my best, but couldn't quite manage a Christmas without turkey and roast veggies. A compromise was required. It came in the form of a de-boned bird barbecued on the Weber and an oven tray of roasted spuds, carrots, pumpkin, sweet potato and onion. Liz satisfied herself with the vegetable option...I had the lot. We had a lovely Xmas Eve!


Xmas day dawned fine and sunny in Perth with 30 degrees forecast as a maximum.  We had already decided on a morning walk along one of Perth's beaches, a quiet midday and indulgence in our festive fare in the late afternoon when the annex cooled off. 

Off we went to Mullaloo Beach according to plan. What a sight awaited us. We had initially intended to gallop along the coastal walkway at Mullaloo until we discovered that at least half of Perth's inhabitants had taken to the beach for Xmas day. The traffic was unbelievable, and this was only 0930 hours.  In the 10 kms or so we then drove north to Burns Beach (where my hope that things would be quieter was realised), every conceivable parking spot, legitimate or otherwise, was occupied.  

The coastal lawn reserves were crowded with tents, picnic rugs, portable gazebos, BBQs, tables, chairs and eskies and picnic baskets of every shape and size. Merry-makers in numbers ranging from couples to groups of over fifty, were all established in their chosen spot and the festivities we well in hand. Silly Santa hats and T shirts were in abundance. Tinsel and streamers had been draped over many of the shade trees...one enterprising group had even brought a fully decorated Xmas tree with them. 

As we drove north, a constant stream of hopefuls were cruising for a parking space or scurrying from their vehicles with that slightly haunted look typical of those who suspect they may have left their run for a patch of turf to call their own too late.  We had never seen anything like it.

My predictions for the Burns Beach area were correct.  We had no difficulty in finding a parking space and duly completed a brisk, hour long constitutional along the very good walking track which extends along the coastal clifftop south to Trigg Beach. The weather was superb....bright and sunny with a cloudless sky complementing the varying blue hues of the Indian Ocean which was streaked in the offshore distance with the fluctuating white slashes of the swells combing over the many reefs which run parallel to the coastline.

With a goodly number of calories pre-emptively expended, we spent the rest of the day quietly, before it was time for the final preparations.

There were cooked prawns and the tiny WA crayfish to be shelled

  

and the green prawns, scallops, and fillets of the whiting I caught at Bussellton to be crumbed.

Out came the cold collation 

and it was time for a clean shirt, an aperitif and a small present








  

before Chef Pierre's outside galley came to life,

bon bons were tugged, silly hats donned and dinner was served!
















Even Max got into the act....albeit reluctantly, 













before he retired hurt and headed for his Xmas present, a new water bowl, for a spot of feline festive cheer

before a final patrol to check that the Xmas lights were working correctly and intruders were well at bay.







What a day it had been. Our first 'roadie' Xmas, which broke with all previous traditions for a number of reasons and about which I will confess to some pre-emptive misgivings, had been wonderful.  Liz loved it.  No fuss, no need to be flitting from place to place, no problems with 'who is going to drive?', no schedules other than our own, and seafood....she thought it was the bees knees. Obviously we missed family and friends but we both recognise that is one of the prices we pay for our life on the road. 

THE ESTUARY - MANDURAH (16-20 DECEMBER 2013)

After such a long time in one place, it felt quite odd to be packing up and hauling out of Bussellton, but, as always, we felt that sense of excitement which invariably accompanies a day on which we are about to see something new.  

Then a drama.....one of the locking bolts which holds the safety chains to the tow bar 'D' shackles had disappeared. It is both illegal and very risky to tow without both these chains attached. We suspect it had shaken out whilst we were banging over some of the unsealed roads in the area of Cape Freycinet a week or so earlier.

Irrespective of cause, we were not going anywhere until I came up with an alternative method of securely attaching the chain. I was not in a mental mood for a challenge, but in circumstances like this there is no choice but to don the fast thinking cap and get on with it....we were on the verge of running late for our appointment with The Caravan Doctor and the installation of our new hot water heater.   

Now I have never pretended to be mechanically minded....quite the opposite in fact, although I have to say life on the road does force a sharpened focus from time to time. And I am proud to report that what ever part of my grey matter deals with these problems did the right thing..."where's that long shank padlock? Where it should be....in the locker with the anti-theft cables". (these are the high tensile steel cables we run through the freezer, BBQ etc and lock off to a wheel or the rear bumper to prevent some little feral (s) making off with them in our absence).

Viola!  It worked.  Highly irregular but of sufficient strength to give me the confidence to make the relatively short drive to Busso's industrial estate and our rendezvous with the long awaited heater...and a new shackle!

So, after unhitching, it was off on a final drive around Bussellton (mainly to keep Max quiet..he can be like a bloody fractious infant on the road....will only settle and snooze when we are underway, preferably at 1900 revs!).  Fortunately my phone rang within the hour.  System installed, tested and all ship shape and re-hitched, (I was over hitching and unhitching by the end of the day!) we were off.  

Our route took us back to Bunbury which we by-passed and on north along the banks of the Leschenault Inlet through the small town of Australind. This may ring a bell.  It was here, a month or so ago, that a local idiot had been experimenting with the manufacture of a highly volatile explosive, currently favoured by the world's terrorists. This clown had set charges in the Inlet, and, as you might imagine, their subsequent discovery caused quite a flap.  In any event, the local bobbies recovered all the bombs and exploded them in a nearby oval. 

These controlled bangs, covered extensively by local TV, had Liz in fits....they looked for all the world like the golf course explosions set off in that zany comedy movie 'Caddy Shack' (for those blissfully ignorant of this film it had Bill Murray attempting to rid the course of a gopher....finally, and as you would expect, unsuccessfully, with explosives).  For some unknown reason this film features large in Liz's childhood memories and this news footage triggered fond recollections.

At this stage I must report that we did not take photos of our short journey to our destination for the day, The Estuary Hideaway Caravan Park, some 20 kms south of Mandurah.  There was little of real interest to see, and, apart from that, I was so far behind with my blog I just wanted to catch up before clicking away again.

After the initial hiccough of the day, our trip was delightfully uneventful. Here we were, the gateway to our new home for four nights.  

The entrance driveway soon beckoned and we followed one of the park workers mounted on a quad bike (standard vehicles in these parks)














past the somewhat tired looking tennis courts,

the much more well cared for pool,













the excellent camp kitchen, library and recreation room complex

and on to our allotted patch of grass (that's us mid shot in the distance amongst the trees)








Our site, as they say in the vernacular, was a ripper.  Reasonably level (completely level sites in grassy parks are virtually non-existent), wide expanses of grass all around us and a fair degree of shade without the threat of immediate branch overhang.  Wonderful.  

And as you can see we had oodles of elbow room. Not another van in the park after day two. This was most unusual and we took full advantage with some very loud happy hour music.  And, if you look closely mid-shot, you will see that the waters of the Harvey Estuary are a mere stone's throw away.

An arrival at a new park always sparks a touch of limited curiosity/anxiety. There are so many variables which go hand in hand with caravan park life, variables which may sound quite banal to all settled in the immutable domestic stability of your own homes which have been built or renovated to reflect your personal tastes.

The state and set-up of the amenities block is always of particular interest. What size are the shower heads?....please, not those horrid, piddling, water saving versions under which one has to run around to get wet. Will the cubicles have plenty of hooks and a shower curtain so the whole area doesn't resemble a flood plain after a good scrub? Will the loo paper be at least 2 ply or that rotten, money saving, flimsy, raspy, see-through tissue with which so many park owners plan to make their fortunes through cost cutting.  
Believe it or not, one park actually advertises it's soft paper. We stayed there!  Here at The Estuary the 'heads' were brand new, and whilst the cubicles were cosy, there were large shower heads, curtains, plenty of hooks, great loo paper, and paper towels for hand wiping as opposed to ineffectual blow driers (has anyone come across one of these things...apart from the extraordinary 'Dyson Blade'...which actually dries hands inside five minutes?)  Well done, The Estuary.

The shared BBQs were clean, the camp kitchen held the largest 'book swap' we have ever come across and the park managers were friendly and helpful.  Bliss.  The only slight snag was a lack of potable water to the sites.  

This park is on bore water (which accounts for the fact that in this dessicated state of WA they could pour water onto the park lawns...and did). The water was actually fit for human consumption, but WA has enacted quite stringent park hygiene regulations. These include, for example, the requirement that all sullage must be directed into a sump rather than be used to water trees or shrubs (how stupid) and that any water which is not filtered and treated in a certain way must be declared non-potable. Here at The Estuary they have overcome this problem by providing all campers with 25 litre containers and unlimited access to filtered rainwater.




This is a huge park, which by all accounts, becomes a hive of activity over the summer months. We had lobbed a week before the rush began. It also houses a large number of 'permanents' in well organised and maintained rows of cabins.





What is the attraction?.....the sheltered waters of the Harvey Estuary....where canoeing, boating fishing and crabbing, particularly crabbing, are a way of life. The estuary connects directly to the Peel Inlet at Mandurah,some 20 kms to the north, and extends south from there. Its waters are saline, and it rather reminded us of a cross between the River Murray and the Coorong (and coincidentally, there is a 'Murray River' not too far away).

I do have to say that both these environments are more attractive than the Harvey Estuary. From our site this path took us to the western bank,

from which the view to the north, complete with these strange, local small boat mooring posts, unfolded.

To the south, a portion of the estuary bank shows the nature and vegetation common to this section of the waterway. We did not travel far enough afield to discover if it is all like this. Hopefully not...we found it all a bit rough and uninviting, but, let's face it, with the Coorong we in SA are utterly spoilt.

It was the huddle of riverside holiday houses immediately to the north of our park boundary which invoked memories of the Murray, where, if not for the fact that the trees are the ubiquitous WA Peppermints rather than River Red Gums,  we could have been standing at Bow Hill, Teal Flat or on the river side of River Lane at Mannum. No, an observation only....not a twinge of homesickness!



And finally, with a four night stay before us, and Xmas nigh, up went the Chrissy lights. Well at least we enjoyed their colour and sparkle even if there was nobody else to impress.

As you may have gathered by now, we did relish our stay here, which included a day trip to Mandurah and the beaches in between. I did not take the camera. I knew darn well if I had I would have snapped away with gay abandon and I really wanted to make sure that I was up to date blogwise within a few days of arriving Perth. 

Suffice it to say that with the Indian Ocean on the one hand and the sheltered waters of the Peel Inlet on the other we viewed Mandurah as a boaties' paradise. Its waterfront cafe strip was appealing if not arresting, and the up-market canal mansions area could have been anywhere, Gold Coast, Caloundra, etc etc.  Mandurah is the second largest urban area outside Perth, and on our observations this is obvious.  High rise apartments and holiday rentals have sprouted all along the waterfront area and we noted a number of suburban streets where knock down and a rebuild were more than evident.

A confession is in order here. We did want to have a quick nosey at Mandurah given we were so close, but the real reason for our visit was Dan Murphy's....the ship's grog locker was somewhat bare. With Xmas fast approaching this was a parlous state of affairs and one not to be tolerated.

So, after a somewhat self indulgent wander around our friend Dan's place and with the coffers depleted as a result, we eventually escaped the traffic chaos of the Mandurah CBD and clinked and clunked our way back to The Estuary later that afternoon with a renewed sense that we really are into peace and quiet and the pleasure of relaxing under our own awning with a quiet glass of bubbles together rather than a jostled and noisy 'latte on the waterfront'!

Perth now awaits. We had received varying reports about the park we were to call home for the next three weeks. We now know there was good reason for that.  

More on this after Christmas. So for now, to all who faithfully wade through my musings, this offering comes with very best wishes to you and yours for the Festive Season and 2014 from Liz, Pete and Max, the Mobile Marshies.

MERRY XMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!

BUSSELLTON - PART 8 - BUNBURY AND FINAL BUSSO ODDS AND ENDS (DECEMBER 2013)

We have now finally left Bussellton after five very good weeks in three different local caravan parks, all of which were completely different in style, amenities and surrounding locale. Our new water heater has now been installed and is chugging away merrily (we were a little over having to boil the kettle each time we needed hot water) and at this point I must sing the praises of the Coast to Coast organisation who supply these heaters. Although it was 12 months out of warranty, once photos of the fault (ruptured tank) had been sent to them, they provided a brand new unit free of charge as a matter of 'goodwill'. We were only required to pay the installation costs....$270 instead of a probable $1,000 or so. Now that's a Xmas present indeed!

We have now made our way to the Estuary Hideaway Caravan Park some 20 kms south of Mandurah where we are spending four nights before moving back into Perth for Xmas and the New Year.  More of our current home later.

Despite all I have written to date about our Busso affair, this has not been totally inclusive.  And here I have to declare that some of this blog is for our later personal recollection and may be a tad self indulgent.

But let's begin with our whistle stop trip to Bunbury, the port town about 50 kms north of Bussellton.  It was a brief encounter conducted more from the motive of  'it's close by, we should make the effort to see it' rather than with any specific objective.  I suspect that we could well have spent more quality tourist time in the city but that will keep for our return visit to the South-West, which is a given!




En route to the town lookout, we discovered one of the oddest pair of statues we have ever seen anywhere, let alone in the suburbs. These oddities (monstrosities?) left us initially mystified

   

until, a short distance down the road, we passed the southern end of 'Maiden's Reserve', a coastal conservation park with scenic walks, some remnant Tuart forest and a plethora of local flora and fauna. There seemed to be an obvious connection, but why the two 'maidens' sit at the end of a short, non-descript suburban street remains a mystery to us.

Anyway, on into Bunbury, where, in an area of obviously new and very ostentatious homes, we found this rather curious and equally ostentatious walkway

leading up to the Bunbury Lookout tower.

Bunbury is built on a peninsula and is know as the City of the Three Waters. As described in one of our tourist magazines, "[t]he rumbling surf of the Indian Ocean, the calm waters of Koombana Bay and the tranquil Leschenault Inlet provide a range of water-based activities".  It was obvious to us from our perch atop the lookout tower that water is indeed a real feature of Bunbury. 

With a population of around 35,000, Bunbury, which lies 175 kms south of Perth, is WA's third largest city after the capital itself and the nearby Mandurah. The area was first formally recorded and explored by the French in 1803. Bunbury now exists as a major service centre in the state's south-west supporting the farming, mining and timber industries and as the area's principle port. The fact that the city also supports 80 restaurants in addition to numerous cafes and pubs is indicative of a healthy local income and a flourishing tourist industry.

From atop the tower we firstly took in the view to the west, overlooking Geographe Bay and the Bunbury lighthouse.  The Esplanade along which we had driven in runs off to the left of the photo along the Geographe Bay coastline.

Panning to the right, this shot shows the tip of the peninsula, the docks area and the boat harbour in Koombana Bay. 











Continuing to circle to the right, here we see the town beaches and jetties and the waterfront apartments and entertainment precinct.

Still further to the right the waters of the  Leschenault Inlet come into view and as we pan right yet again, 










now looking to the south, we can see over the Bunbury CBD with its standout largest building, known affectionately as the 'milk carton', an Allen Bond creation of the heady days of the 80's. The Geographe Bay coast again comes into view at the right of this shot and gives some perspective of the peninsula on which the Bunbury CBD is built and the degree to which it is surrounded by the 'Three Waters'.

I mentioned earlier that our access to the lookout had taken us past some of what we strongly suspect is one of Bunbury's newer development areas where, from our perspective, size and opulence has been put well before good taste. Here every square inch of the blocks on which these homes stood was occupied by the buildings themselves. I know this is an expression of personal taste, but this whole district just screamed of 'look at me, look at me'.  We did, but only in transit.


From the lookout, we did a motoring tour along the waterfront area and thence into the CBD, where I have to say Bunbury finally presented as a place more to our taste.  As I said previously, I know from experience we did not spend the time to do justice to much of what is on offer here. We are very much of the ilk that new towns can only be properly seen by walking the streets and here we drove.  Next time. 

And now for a spot of final Busso potpourri and some self-indulgence. Let us begin with the Bussellton Ironman.  As I detailed in a previous missive this is a serious event. The town is taken over by the 1,600 competitors and their support crews who arrive from all over the world. For a week before the event the entire foreshore area is closed off and marquees rise out of the lawns like autumn mushrooms. Now it would be fair to say that neither of us are devotees of the Ironman series, but I remain in awe of the stamina of these competitors and it seemed silly not to take the opportunity to see at first hand what this was all about.

We did miss the swim...the professional group of competitors hit the water at 0530 hours, and although in WA it is well and truly light by this time, this was a touch too early.  But we did take in some of the bike ride and the run.






What a transformation had taken place with riders toiling along the Esplanade roadway right past the Kookaburra Caravan park as part of their required 180 kms










and those on the 42 kms run pounding along the closed foreshore walkway (this is the eventual winner, by the way...nothing second rate about this presentation)

The infrastructure was impressive to say the least. This is a mere token shot of the canvas city which had completely taken over the foreshore park area.

The infrastructure of the finishing line was equally impressive with its huge screen and presentation areas (not all in view here)

and, as could be expected for a world class event of this size, aerial photographic coverage was mandatory. Now come on, how could you possibly expect me to forgo a photo of a chopper over the iconic symbol of Busso?

As a final word on the Bussellton Ironman, which is estimated to bring over $10 million to the local economy (and given the fact that there was not one skerrick of free accommodation in any of the caravan parks, motels and guest houses in the area this does not surprise) I had to include this shot.  Those who manage this event are nothing if not realistic!

For those with challenged vision, my apologies (I though I had gotten closer). The sign over this tent reads, 'Drop Out Clerk'. I did ponder on the final indignity suffered by those whose bodies could not withstand the rigours of this challenging event who then have to make this fact so formally clear to the stewards. I just hoped they staffed this tent with volunteers who were the souls of sympathy and understanding.  

And now for something completely different, especially for all who crave a regular dose of 'The Black Panther'....a 'Max special' segment!

Max is nothing if not a survivor....through thick and thin the ship's cat soldiers on (not that he has much choice) in hot weather

and cold (not happy Jan!)














Annex guard duty is much better fun when seated

but when that or a hard caravan night patrol is over it is time to catch up....after all, he is getting on!

And then there are times when Max feels the need to sit back and cogitate in his 'Buddah' pose

and others when nothing but a lap will do. One nip from those claws and you are history, Max!












And the ultimate for the travelling cat?..why his own play pen of course....and a personal trainer to demonstrate its salient features. "I'm not too sure about this", thinks Max, but if its OK for Mum






then perhaps I should give it a crack. Mmmm, this is cosy! As a postscript, Max did finally spend some quality time outdoors in his pen which has the advantage of allowing him to watch the goings on without the temptation to back out of his harness (which he has done twice...a not-to-be trusted feline with too many brains is Max)




Although our stay in the various Busso parks was punctuated with the odd social gathering, it was not a patch on, for example, Kurrimine Beach.  However, we did spent a deal of time at the local RSL where, each Friday afternoon, 'fellowship' begins at 1630 hours. After our initial introductions we could not have been made to feel more at home by the Busso RSL group.

The clubrooms are of modest external appearance (ignoring the 'Where's Wally woman in the doorway..and she hadn't even had a drink at this stage) which belie the funtional interior layout and the incredible efforts made by members of the sub-branch to collect and display many, many items of memorabilia, beginning with, in the front gardens,

an anchor from HMAS Swan which was scuttled near Dunsborough and is now used as a dive site.

Here is the corner of the room immediately inside the entrance doorway,













which leads on to the bar area past walls covered with service related photos and other items.













The pool room, which is off to the left of the bar, features a RAAF based display

whilst unit plaques decorate the beam between the bar area and the quite expansive dining area, which on several evenings was pretty well full with members and guests enjoying themselves.






Apart from the very modest (particularly for WA where a pint of quite ordinary beer is $10.00) bar prices, the Busso RSL catering group bung on a different supper each Friday for which they charge the princely sum of $5.00.  For two fillets of fish, good chips and an acceptable salad, as but one example, this was indeed value....and the menu was changed each week. As something of a bonus of the 'it's a small world' variety, the sub-branch secretary is an ex-police officer who not only served in East Timor, but did so with two of my very good mates. We did chat a bit! So with all this and more it is probably not hard to see why we had such a good time at the Bussellton RSL.

We did invite a few of our park companions to join the festivities on several occasions, one of which became a very long evening indeed. At some stage early in the proceedings at the RSL we decided that a nightcap in the annex of one such couple would be just the thing to do on our return to camp. Now as you know, fortified wines and your correspondent are no longer a good look, but good manners and neighbourly relations were on the line here.  

Thanks for a lovely night Liz (not my Liz) and Ron...and for the head the next morning which was memorable in that it was my only fall from grace in our entire Busso stay.  I should add, for the benefit of all who are gasping in horror, that Liz was otherwise attired for the sojourn at the RSL!


During our Bussellton adventure Chef Pierre's galley did open from time to time in various guises. We learnt long ago that there are many savings to be made (which can then be redirected to more important things like the cost of a WA pint) with a bit of culinary effort to produce food items usually of the 'take-away' variety. It is not unusual to find the Marshies dining in on home made pizza for example.



Corned beef provides another example of a simple food cost saving.  For approximately $10-$12 my home cooked corned beef will provide three evening meals and enough for a number of sandwiches. Compare that to buying slices of sliverside at the supermarket deli section..no comparison.  




We also try to use park BBQ's where we can, if they are clean that is.  We have come across some real shockers in our travels, but not so at Sandy Bay where the facilities were excellent.







But let's move out of the kitchen to look at a few more snippets of Bussellton oddities starting with what I reckon is one of the best (and certainly the most unusual) dual building uses I have ever come across.

It's true!  A group of Busso 'happy clappers' gather each Sunday at the Esplanade Hotel for a service. Imagine how long communion could be made to last!  I had visions of some local drunk passing out in the pub on Saturday night only to come to the following morning in the midst of a church service....can you just picture the reaction?  "I'll never touch that stuff again".

On a more practical note, I would now like to share with you one of the most innovative bits of kit I have come across....the Kookaburra Park garbo trailer. This ingenious device was designed and built by one of the park managers. Here his co-manager is sorting the bin before










wheeling it across and loading it onto the holding platform and then, with the touch of a button,

the job's done. How clever is this. I forgot to ask if Greg had applied for a patent.










Still on matters mechanical and creative, it was whilst we were in Busso I was able to go some way to solving a problem which has haunted us since leaving home....getting the kayak on and off the cruiser by myself. I knew of a commercially produced extension bar on which the boat could be rested whilst loading, but these do not fit our roof racks. By chance, on a trip to Margaret River, we passed an isolated house in Metricup on which a sign proclaimed that the occupant was a metal fabricator. Why not see what he could do. I had some ideas of what I wanted and sure enough my new found friend Rex did the job. Now this is not a sophisticated piece of engineering, but it works.

 



Firstly, attach the bar, 

then prop the bow of the kayak on it,

climb the step ladder, lift and site the stern in the rack and then do the same for the bow. It's not pretty, but it seems to work and at least now poor old Liz does not have to stand on tip toes holding the stern whilst I get the bow on.





And then, of course, Murphy stepped in.  We had no sooner arrived here at the Estuary park when I spotted a fellow kayaking traveller loading his with an hydraulic side hoist. Enquiries were made forthwith. I am not sure if his device will work with my upright rack, but I am enthused. More enquiries are to follow.

Now for something completely different and entirely out of left field. One of our fellow campers at Sandy Bay was a retired water driller. Not only that, he is a water diviner. I had sighted him wandering around the park holding a piece of bent fencing wire out in front of him. As you know, I am not the sort of bloke who will die wondering. Again, enquiries were made. Graham told me that there was actually an underground stream running just past our site. "Show me", was the immediate request from Mr Sceptic. And sure enough, as he walked past our annex opening, the wire suddenly moved at right angles and maintained that position before swinging back to be pointing straight ahead a few steps later.  

As you might imagine, I was keen to have a crack...this has to be mumbo jumbo. Well, blow me down, I can do it.

The wire moved just as it had for Graham as I walked over the same area. Still not satisfied, I insisted on a control....Liz took the wire, and as she took the same path absolutely nothing happened. According to Graham it has something to do with a person's static electrical charge. Irrespective of what causes this to happen, in the words of the title of that grand old Monkees song, 'Now I'm a Believer'.  Incredible.

Finally, Xmas approaches, and despite the co-pilot's polite but unmistakable derision, I am determined that the festive spirit must be demonstrated even if we are in a caravan. The only snag is that any decorations have to be relatively cheap, portable, easily stored and virtually indestructible. Lights...now that's a good start. After several hours hunting through various Bussellton stores I finally came across just what I was looking for...20 metres of coloured LED lights with a multi-function controller.  All that remained now was to string them up and run a test.

YEEEESS!!











The next task was to determine our preferred programme. This took some time to observe and evaluate. It was a wretched job on a delightfully balmy evening where thirst was a constant companion. I suspect this decision may have taken longer than was actually needed.





So we have lights, and I've since found a small, self-illuminating Xmas tree.  A few baubles and a touch of tinsel (I know, a bit gauche....but cheap and easy) and we'll be right into the spirit of things.  Watch out Kingsway Caravan Park, Perth, the Marshies' Xmas roadshow is on the way.