Online communication has been restored. I still really have no clue what actually happened to render me flung out of cyberspace. I don't have much more idea how I achieved this happy outcome. I still have this gnawing fear that all things AI are actually out to get me...
In the meantime, I shall fill in the details of our adventures whilst I was "off the air".
Following my unexpected and rather lengthy visit to Carnarvon Hospital, we played tourist on the following day. The weather was absolutely glorious so we enjoyed a long and lazy lunch at the Carnarvon Hotel right on the foreshore. We cruised around the Fruit Loop - a ring road that follows the Gascoyne River past the food bowl around Carnarvon. The river itself was making one of its rare sojourns above ground, following heavy rain. In fact, by the time we departed Carnarvon, they had reached their yearly rainfall average!
Determined to be on the highway early in the day we were travelling to Onslow, we surprised ourselves pulling out of the Discovery Park before 9 o'clock. A quick detour to breakfast at the Gascoyne bakery (delicious!) and some vital chemist items and we were waving Carnarvon farewell by nine-thirty.
The day was warm, with a brilliant sun and a vibrant blue sky. We made good progress and all was going swimmingly until, about a hundred odd kilometres south of Nanutarra, we both heard a loud bang from behind us. Simultaneously looking in our side mirrors, a trail of debris was streaming behind us. And then, we came to a screaming halt...
Michael battled to get us off the road before he was able to safely leap out and have a look at what-the-hell-had-happened. One of the caravan tyres had exploded and then shredded. Half of the back compartment had been blown out and our sudden and complete stop had caused by our gas bottle falling into the abyss before being jammed against the remains of the tyre.
Back on the highway, the car jack along with other items, were strewn across the road. Just as we were both standing, somewhat shell-shocked, wondering where to begin, a car and camper trailer heading south orchestrated a nifty U-turn, stopped on the highway and activated their hazard lights. Ben helped Michael remove all the battered bits and pieces off the road. Kirsty kept their children entertained organising their lunch. Before long, the tyre was off and the spare was in its place. Between the two of them, the rim was extracted from the shattered tyre and we left it behind with all the other abandoned bits of detritus that littered the edges of the tarmac.
We were so thankful to Ben and Kirsty that they had stopped to help us. They resumed their trip southwards,and still rather shaken, we headed sedately to Nanutarra. A stop for fuel and an icecream settled our nerves, as we set off for the last 120 kilometres to Onslow.
We arrived, without any further incidents at four-thirty. Setting up very quickly, we took the dogs onto the beach for the first time. Lexi, who had never seen the ocean, bounded gleefully at full pelt into the waves, before stopping as the water reached her chest. Reviewing the situation, she made her way somewhat slower back to shore. Even so, Lexi's introduction and Stella's re-acquaintance with the Pilbara coast has been unhindered and joyous, the chance to run at top speed, to splash through rock pools, chase seagulls, play chasey, meet other dogs, sniff every delicious odour and occasionally consume disgusting fishing discards or revolting food remains.Truly, doggy paradise.
And us? We are currently immersed in our seventh day of our Onslow Escape. What have we done? About as close to nothing as possible. We wake when we want, eat when we want, drink when we want and go to bed when we want. We visit the beach at least twice a day. We have been to the Beadon Bay Hotel, the Onslow Beach Club, the IGA and the Visitors Centre. We have enjoyed gentle walks to marvel at the different plants and flowers. We have embraced beachcombing in addition to fossicking. Like the outback, the beach throws up different objects to view. Except, this occurs on a daily basis, thanks to tides and currents and winds. We always watch the sun set over the Indian Ocean, and if we are awake, the sun rise. We read and watch TV on the computer and have afternoon kips. I can write anytime I wish. This is bliss, pure and simple.
Michael did go on a talk-fest tour over to the Wheatstone processing plant today, which he quite enjoyed. We want to go to Old Onslow for a wander and peruse the old cemeteries. Staircase to the Moon will also illuminate the mudflats before we leave to travel further north to Point Samson.
In the meantime, what else are we planning? Not much...
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