SUNDAY 13 DECEMBER

We’re moving on. We had originally planned a one night stop each in Hay and Griffith, but having been revived by Mildura we agree that we would like to drive the 5 hours to Griffith and have two nights there, soaking up the Italian atmosphere. So we wave a fond farewell to Mildura, but we know we’ll be back. We refuel in town, paying far too much for diesel as we discover when we pass the next service station, but after an hour or so on the road, our van shows an oil light, so we pull into the next town, Euston, to check it. As a clever country girl, Cherrie guesses that if we find the right servo then we might actually get some personal service. And indeed we do, from the man wearing a Euston Servo tee shirt. He checks the dip stick (I do not refer to myself) and is pretty sure that all is ok. We have a coffee at the Euston Greasy Spoon, which bites the dust pretty quickly. And continue on our way. Cherrie and I are in the lead, I’m in the passenger seat, so it’s my job to find a nice picnic spot for lunch. I fail.

1.5kms off the highway, on a dirt road, reveals this table. No water, no scenery to write home about (good to blog about tho), flies as thick as a curtain. Very clean toilet though, with liquid soap, paper towel and toilet paper. Some redemption. A curious wool shed in the background but no sign of any life, wooly or otherwise. We moved pretty quickly, but the flies got to the cockpit first.

We cross the Hay Plains, marvel at the tenacity of the local farmers, drive past an emu with two chicks (which we fail to get a photo of) and then a whole paddock full of emus. Half of our national emblem. The other half is dead by the side of the road.

For afternoon tea spot, it was Gaz’s turn and he triumphed. Found the same spot I found on our 2nd day out. Still beautiful, by the river, off the road but not too far off.

We get into Griffith caravan park about 5pm, set up and then take the dogs on a pleasant stroll to the nearby Aldi for last minute supplies. The pleasant stroll consists of walking through burr ridden dry grass, which causes the dogs all sorts of puncture issues, right by the A20 National Highway, which is very popular with the local chapter of the Hells Angels. It’s stinking hot, has been for a few days now, and the bitumen is practically melting under our feet. Only the soles of burrs save the dogs.

Back at the ranch, we consume our next gourmet meal. Enormous rib eye steaks, known as cattleman’s cutlets, on the BBQ with sautéed potatoes (on the BBQ) and a bean and tomato salad. Matching wines of course. Preceded by some nibblies, with table decoration by our resident travelling garden designer.

It’s a tough life, this camping. We’re too tired to sit up late tonight. Mind you, late is 9pm for us. So off to bed.

MONDAY 14 DECEMBER

Well, Griffith is not the Italian haven we expected. Indian culture has overtaken. We do find a much lauded Italian patisserie which serves excellent coffee, which we actually finish. A stroll down the main street of Griffith confirms our adulation of Mildura. But we are not easily deterred. We lunch at the only restaurant open on a Monday. It’s more cafe than restaurant but Cherrie, Di and I all have the Murray Cod and chips and Gaz has the ravioli. Nice food, but nothing to blog about. We then decide to give Griffith the benefit of the doubt and hit the road. The town has the Christmas spirit all right

And shows extreme patriotism. The national emblem. I think.

The gardens of Griffith reflect our feeling about this town, with abject apologies to any of you who hail from here. At least you left.

We drive up Scenic Drive

..to one of the town’s major tourist attractions, Hermit’s Cave. Nothing to photograph really, but here is a shot of the town from the lookout.

Enough said, perhaps.

Finding nothing else to do, we return to the park. Cherrie and I have a swim in the pool, or a dunk at least, and we then sit down to a glass of local Prosecco

Di is cooking up a frittata. Here might endeth the blog for today. Tomorrow we depart Griffith (never to return) and for Cowra and the Japanese Gardens. Oyasumi. For now.