Parked for a Few Nights

Decision made to stay for a couple of nights at Anna Bay to gather further provisions and plan a route for the next two or three weeks.

I notice the first man approaching wearing his tattered slippers, baggy pants and a shirt that hasn’t seen water for awhile. He starts waving his arm to move the van to the right. What? I wind down the window and he says the black rubber is only for walking on not parking van on. A second man appears wearing an authoritative mentality. Frowning, nodding his head in approval or disapproval I cannot tell. Eventually the van sits where it needs to be. Everyone is happy. I think.

Lots of coming and going to the van, till the long list of jobs has been ticked off and list thrown in the bin. That magic evening hour approaches where I am told caravan adventurers bring out their easy chairs, plates of cheese with crackers accompanied by beers and or wine. I don’t see much of that happening at this park and haven’t to date. So I just pour myself a vodka tonic, turn on my music. If you haven’t heard ‘Tennessee Whiskey’ by Chris Stapleton or the Brothers Osborne’s song ‘Rum’ treat yourself. A bit of a theme there I notice. Of course I am the only person in the Wilson clan who thrives on good Country Music. I feel I have left the others down by not converting them at least to Country Blues.

Time to depart for the next stop at Mudgee, NSW.

Two hours along the track I am wondering if and when a coffee shop will appear when it hits me. There is a coffee shop on board, toilet as well. Pull over at the next pretty spot and take a coffee break I suggest to myself. The miles roll by with nothing ‘pretty’ instead rolling plains of brown dry grass with parched trees begging for water. We are on the Golden Highway but I see nothing Golden about it. Around a corner and my senses are attacked. Prime thoroughbred horse studs stand on manicured green expanses surrounded at their edges by the dry parched brown fields.

I do see the occasional coal mine scarred land, the occasional caravan driving towards me so I turn up my music – Keith Urban of course – “Blue Ain’t Your Color”.

The world of ballooning always offers a huge variety of colour in my life. A picture speaks a thousand words so enjoy the images below. L to R: First image courtesy of Paul Brittliff, balloon pilot & photographer extraordinaire, the other two taken by me at 2013 French & United Kingdom Nationals in Brissac, France where I participated as a member of the Jury followed by balloons at the 2012 World Championship, Battle Creek U.S.A. while I was an Official at the event.

What will tomorrow bring?