The caravan park, expertly managed by Caz, with a willing helper currently in Kim (who lived in the large pink and white bus with Blondie, her dog) had been a delight. Great facilities including a woolshed themed huge sheltered campers' kitchen, BBQs, clean ensuite ablutions, cabins, plenty of shade, adjacent to the oval and a location right next to the local swimming pool. Meeka was home to Anna Johnson but Muka had Caz and Kim...
We chose to return to Heavenly Beverley via Trayning, Kellerberrin and Quairading. The first tiny town we passed through was Kununoppin. There was not a soul about on a Friday afternoon. Soon afterwards, we drove past the quite impressive and well-populated cemetery. Before I could stop myself, I dropped a characteristic clanger. "Look Michael", I exclaimed, "There are more people dead in Kukunoppin than there are alive!" I'm afraid I also laughed...
Trayning didn't thrill us either. We looked vainly for any establishment that might offer a late lunch. Epic fail. So, we drove onto the bright lights of Kellerberrin. Bang in the middle of the main drag was Succulent Foods. Open six days a week, we bought and then devoured two delicious Turkish rolls stuffed with a myriad of yummy ingredients. What a find.
A final treat was Yoting Road en route to Quairading. Passing massive granite outcrops including Mount Sterling and Kokerbin Rock was completely unexpected. We had no idea that our backyard in the Wheatbelt held such fantastic scenery. We made a note to stay at the nearby Kwolyin Camp next time we were in the vicinity, hopefully during this coming spring.
Once we passed Quairading on familiar territory, I began to muse on the Great Truths I had discovered over the course of our twenty-five-day adventure.
And so, in no particular order, I shall elaborate on the quirky, the confounding, the humorous and the infuriating that belted me metaphorically over the head at surprisingly frequent intervals -
- None of Digger's indicators should be relied upon as gospel, without another source of confirmation. (The Disaster of the Water Tanks)
- A hot water service will be most unhappy if asked to operate without water in the tanks. (How to Fry your Hot Water Heater and Other Useless Hints)
- Caravan handover spiels are conducted by caravan salesmen...we were cheerily assured that our television aerial would be adequate in most country towns. We needed a satellite dish. (The Case of the Antenna Debacle)
- Watertight doors and hatches should be checked as CLOSED before moving on. Seeing a skylight hatch merrily flapping in the breeze did not augur well. (The Catastrophe of an Internal Pilbara Tsunami)
- Silicone, WD40 and duct tape are essential equipment, as is a Stanley knife, at least two entrenching tools and two types of gloves, both disposable and riggers'. A frypan can also come in handy as a deterrent to unwanted visitors. (The MacGyver Chronicles)
- Nail polish can act to hold screwed-in knobs for drawers, cupboards and overhead cabinets. A dollop may prevent the knobs from flinging themselves all over Digger and becoming a slipping risk. (Alternatives to Banana Peel For Foiling Your Enemy)
- Diligently read every owners' manuals and instructions and memorise to heart. Then realise on the road that these Messages from the Advertising Gods are the stuff of nonsense and totally useless. (Would You Trust These Politicians?)
- Awning designs are unnecessarily complicated, the work of the Devil and designed to confuse relatively intelligent people. (The Awnings of Wrath)
- Driving with a caravan required intense concentration by Michael. That is why we limited our kilometres to around three hundred a day. Or less if possible. (Staying Alive Whilst Towing a Caravan)
- Free camping areas are a mixed blessing. Often crowded, the toilet facilities may be questionable, wash basins missing in action and littered with unwelcome and unsightly rubbish. (How To Be Antisocial in a Caring, Sharing Way)
- We watched other caravaners leave early from Beasley River with a Fixed Steely Gaze that alerted us they would be driving to the next set location at all costs. As a result, they missed out on the Parabadoo Volunteer Firies setting up their Driver Revivor/Survivor stand. (Adam's Unfortunate Hangover and Other Firefighting Tales)
- We forgot the padded toilet seat for emergency usage in the bush. Never again. (Michael Does Not Squat and Other Outback Stories)
- We watched in amused amazement at both men and women stressing over the state of their vehicles and caravans, wiping off the dirt and dust and actually washing the exteriors in country where water is scarce. Lily and Digger are still wearing their Pilbara colours with pride. (Salmon Pink is the New Black)
And so, we are home again in Station House. Our bed is quite divine as Michael can stretch out to his full height - not possible in Digger. I have renewed my love affair with the dishwasher.
And *whew*, we returned to Beverley in time to watch the Masterchef finale on the telly.
Until our next expedition.
Farewell to Mukinbukin
Wheatbelt surprises.
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