Port Augusta - Streaky Bay
Our time in Port Augusta in +40⁰C was spent trying to
escape the heat – so we rode early in the morning and cooled down in the air
conditioned shops or caravan park swimming pool.
As advised by his specialist, Alan had his broken thumb X-Rayed here and
all agreed that it’s repairing nicely.
He’s allowed to get it wet twice a day, so covers it in plastic for
showers, but swims with it uncovered.
I’m constantly surprised at how well he gets by with only one and a bit
hands, especially riding his bike.
While we peddled around Port Augusta we noticed either
graffiti or stickers on cars in town farewelling ‘Deano’.
After an easy search on Google, we learnt that Dean was a local 18 year
old who was king hit and killed by a 19 year old on New Year’s Eve in Streaky
Bay. Sadly he died and the guy is
now on manslaughter charges. Our
next stop was Streaky Bay on the Eyre Peninsula – normally a very quiet fishing
town loved by tourists. It’s hard to imagine how the town coped with such a
tragedy.
We stopped off in Kimba –halfway across Australia, and
downed our sandwiches before the bread turned to toast.
It was 42.5⁰ when we arrived in Streaky Bay, so after pulling our cozzies
on over sticky sweaty bodies we opted for a swim before tackling any work, other
than plugging in the power and turning on the air conditioner.
The sweat was pouring off us as we tried to hammer the pegs
into the rock hard ground. Suddenly
Santa turned up like an apparition – curly white hair, moustache and beard -
dressed in his summer outfit of speedos and thongs with and a beer in hand.
He was a dead ringer for the real thing and only missing a big belly.
He told us that the office have a drill with a tungsten drill bit to bore
holes into the solid ground. So
with Alan’s 1 ½ hands and my two, we managed to drill a few holes into the
ground to put pegs in for the awning.
Santa and Mrs Claus double as “Cuddles & Co” travelling
music show, and each afternoon we’re treated to some great foot tapping music
while they strum and sing their way through their repertoire, accompanied by
anyone else in the caravan park that brought an instrument with them on their
holidays.
There are always characters wherever you go, and the
nastiest moved in next door to us.
The ‘van’ was a combination of a horse trailer and workmen’s accommodation with
the owner a cruel man in filthy clothes who claimed they’d been attacked by
Aborigines while camped on the Nullarbor.
His poor wife couldn’t seem do the right thing and anytime we saw them he
was yelling at her and throwing equipment on the ground in disgust.
Their arrival made such an impact that as soon as they had the van in
place (diagonally across the site) and went out for dinner, people wandered over
to take photos. We managed a peek
inside later and found a new side-by-side fridge, huge washing machine etc.
After such incredibly hot weather, the temperature dropped
to 23⁰ overnight. We’ve ridden our
bikes all over Streaky Bay and had a lovely lunch at the only restaurant in
town, and dinner at the pub. Then
the weather turned nasty, so instead of heading bush 2 days ago to our next
stop, we were lucky enough to keep our site for a couple more days.
The sun’s out today so it’s time to get rolling to Cactus
Beach. Hopefully we won’t get blown
away there