THURSDAY 10 DECEMBER

Last night, after our (best to be forgotten) lunch, and after being driven back to the caravan park, we thanked our designated driver by taking him, and his girlfriend , for a long(ish) walk. We had another meal of biscuits and cheese and played some more Rummikub. We thought we might finish the luncheon wine, (the one Margaret tried with a mouth full of toothpaste), but that proved not to be. Only one thing for it

And then there was none

Quite right too. But, there is a Bacchus. A David Franz Semillion and a Phil Lehmann Cabernet Sauvignon. Yum.

So, today we leave Clare, but not before a cup of coffee in the town. Another lovely SA wine valley, but the town is not nearly as nice as Tanunda. Or Angaston. Or Nuriootpa.

We are heading to Renmark, but we are taking our time today. First, a stop at a lovely town called Burra, which in 1850 was the largest mine in Australia and produced 5% of the world’s copper.

This is a lovely town. We visit the art gallery, just to show our blog followers that we are cultured folk

We are introduced to the exhibition by Kym, one of the volunteers. Kym is a local. He is intriguing. He has curly grey hair, artistically styled. He wears a three piece suit, a Prince of Wales check in pink and mauve tones, and a floral shirt. His two earrings are gold loops and each finger is adorned with a rather large ring. He is very knowledgeable about the local area, less so about the artworks. But his charm forgives all.

We have coffee, sitting outside, as always, with the dogs. Garry spies the water dish, and remarks that it’s water and low fat water

We walk around town and look in some lovely shops. Once again, Garry is droll. “This is what happens when you leave the clothes in the dryer too long” he says

We leave Burra, and drive through salt bush country.

The nearby highway says it all really

Hitting pretty country, we stop by the mighty Murray once again for our traditional picnic lunch.

It’s such a beautiful river, and they care for their trees here.

But, they are glorious trees, and every one is numbered.

After lunch, as we continue our drive to Renmark, we enter Sunraysia country. Vines, fruit and nut trees as far as the eye can see

But first, we hit another quarantine bin, where we work really hard to consume everything we can. We are baby boomers after all, and nothing must go to waist. As my waistline attests.

I have been discrete up until now about Garry’s habit of boasting about his composting toilet. He will, and does, talk to anyone who will listen. In fact, even if they don’t listen, he brags. Here we are at a quarantine station, with a Englishman and a Frenchwoman. Like they care…..

Before Renmark, we pass through the town where all our missing mail goes.

Hence the title of this blog…I, (k)no(w) (wh)y

Arriving at the caravan park in Renmark, we find grass, not bitumen. We are right on the river, space around us, ducks galore.

Ah, this is what a road trip in a campervan is all about.

Tonight, after dinner we play 500. Lots of fun, but then the light goes so another early night. Ah, this is what camping is all about.

FRIDAY 11 DECEMBER

After a late start, 9am, we take the dogs for an off leash run at the far end of this lovely caravan park.

Mmm, thanks Mums. And Dad.

We have read about the Renmark Rose Garden and so off we head. Without any navigation challenges we find the rose garden. I beg your pardon, I never promised you ……It’s hopeless. Back in the van for…what do you think? Morning coffee. Garry has found two choices for excellent coffee. The first is on an industrial estate, with no outdoor tables (for the dogs) and looks like the home of Caterers Blend. We choose the second option. The bakery. Coffee was ok, just ok, but the highlight was the pile drivers across the road. Relentless. Garry thought the Sydney Festival should book them. Philip Glass, eat your heart out.

Subsequently, a lovely drive through lush country and into a surprisingly (for me) the gorgeous city of Mildura. What a pleasure to be here. At the caravan park, again by the river, Di cooks up bacon and eggs, poached no less, for lunch. Ah, this is the camping life.

A drive around town lead us to Lock 11.

Which, of course, reminded us all of our own Le Boat trip in France some years ago, with Captain McDonald at the wheel. Today it is 4pm, and as luck would have it, the paddle steamers (sans paddle and with diesel) arrived, for the loch (please note spelling. I believe that loch is more correct than lock, but you, dear reader, will correct me no doubt).

Now, those of you who have been followers of this blog for years, may remember that we traversed the Canal Midi some years ago, and had to pass through 7 lochs in 7 hours (or was that wives for brothers?). Anyway, with the Captn at the wheel, the crew of Di, Cherrie and myself became quite adept at this loch stuff. The gloves, the ropes, the jumping back on board etc. Sort of unforgettable really. Anyway, today we stand and watch these boozed up youths have their go, under the direction of the lock master (we, in France, had no such luxury).

Going

Going

The two hangers on, as is so often the case, got through first

At the loch(k) Garry found a fisherman. They talked fish. And

And composting toilets.

Back at the caravan park, we shower and frock up. Metaphorically speaking. And we dine out, at Stefano’s. A little over two years after our original booking, en route to Perth. That trip that concluded, unexpectedly, in Swan Hill. But, here we are two years later at Stefano’s Restaurant in Mildura. Excellent service, fabulous wines (all local, an Anais and a Montepelluciano, under the Stefano label) and really very good food. Not special, perhaps not worth driving 2000kms for, but gosh, we’ve had worse. It was a 5 course degustation menu, chosen by the chefs, which suited us fine. Good tucker really, but the fish course, a Murray Cod, was a bit light on. And it was the dessert course that we feel let us down. Two tiramisu, two lemon ice cream with pistachio granita. The ice cream won hands down. But, frankly, the very accomplished culinary Macca’s could have bettered either.