I love retired people. Every time I meet some, they feed me and look after me. Yesterday evening, even after the big group of veterans had gone to bed, two ladies came to chat. They told me how their husbands used to do charity rides, and when arriving in town, the whole community was there to cheer them up and there will be food a celebrations.
This morning, I’m reminded there there is plenty of stew left in the fridge for breakfast, but already another couple approaches me and offer tea, eggs and onions on toast.
Later on, my friends from last night warm up the stew and serve it on toast. So that is my second breakfast. I do have to clean dishes though, which I really don’t mind. Finally as I’m starting to get ready, I go back to the communal area and eat a little bit of muesli to top up my carbs intake – my third breakfast.
My retired friends also end up giving me a little bit of metho, after I saw someone carrying a bottle of it, they offered to top me up. Now I will have enough for the next few days in the bush and I don’t need to buy a huge 1L bottle. Good job!
I make it out of the Caravan park, drop some mail at the post office and head to the grocery shop. I see some of the Caravan park guests again, who laugh at the fact that I’ve still not departed at 10am. It just that everybody kept talking to me, and therefore packing was slow.
At the grocery shop I get some fruits, forget to buy veggies, and swallow a banana right away. That would be my fourth breakfast or maybe morning tea.
I’m not quite sure where I’m going as I’m following a trail detour to avoid Barrington Tops, and the description of the route is very basic. I end up leaving at 10.30am and have only six hours of sunlight left, which is really not much. I spend the morning climbing a hill, up to 1,100m above sea level. It’s hard work. In order to not obsess about the road, I listen to a BBC documentary about the history of the brain. It’s interesting, and keeps me entertained. But at times I stop paying attention to the documentary, usually when I’m struggling big time on the road.
At the top of the hill, my retired friends drive past me and laugh again, seeing I haven’t made much progress, although I did finish the climb. They are really lovely people. It wouldn’t be hard to be their friend.
For the next couple of hours I’m riding on gravel road with some serious undulations. My legs are pretty tired. I find a camping area for lunch. Curious enough, a car with “Inspector” written on it stops by the only tent there is. The “Inspector” seems to be wearing a bulletproof jacket of some sort. He has a long chat with the tent owner, and leaves after asking me if I was alright.
Later on, I’m surprised to see a communication tower, which allows me to get back on the internet, but I have to be careful with distractions as time is running out for the day. I pedal on, and find the turn off to leave the main road. It’s almost 5pm.
I camp in a grassy area 500m in the forest from the main road. I once again play with my firewood stove and my camera, trying to understand how these new toys work. It’s a little windy here but at least I’m not cold anymore.