Day 85 | More Yardie Homestead Caravan Park: gunna be hard to leave the beachcomber lifestyle
67 km | zzOz total: 3,974 km
It was strange, but of course entirely appropriate, that I heard “Happy Birthday” sung nearby.
A couple of burly fishermen were singing down the payphone to Geoff, must be a good guy, apparently quite ugly, although that’s not a prerequisite for those born on this day.
I celebrate by having 2 portions of muesli, watching a couple of crested pigeons, (native), act out their mating rituals, while attempting to ignore the sporadic attacks of the territorial mynas.
I still have a chunk of fruitcake not yet consumed since Carnarvon for the full on, indeed total, celebration at an otherwise usual lunchtime feast: 3 day old bread with pickles, cheese and then the cake, all washed down with a slug of slightly salty water.
Today is a reprise of yesterday, rolling 35 km down the road to the snorkelling spot everyone more mobile than myself agrees is the best, with a couple of sidetrips to a different beach, just for a look, that’s all into a cross wind, then once the business for the day is done, ie, a 40 minute snorkel, warming up for an hour or two, another 20 minutes in, returning Ferrari style at 4 30, the traffic has really dissipated by then, an immense tailwind back, at an average speed of about 35 km/hour, iPod on, listening to some loud music, of a generally nondescript nature, while watching the angled sunlight on the prehistoric limestone shoreline, very distinct, and the roos, emus, bouncing or darting across the road respectively, and a bustard, a long necked, small headed bird, scrawny legs, with an out of proportion belly not meaningfully described at elegant, kind of like many of the inhabitants of my present accommodations.
Basically a perfect day.