Day 4 - Adelaide to Kingston SE
For the first time, all four of us made it to breakfast at the same
time, and we made arrangements for the first long drive of the tour. This
drive actually began slightly late due to David's failure to pay his hotel
bill, and the need for the hotel staff to pursue him into the car park
to make him cough up. Once this little misunderstanding had been cleared
up, we set off with high hopes and a full boot.
And
finally, we made it to a wine-growing region while they were still prepared
to flog us the stuff. After a leisurely tasting session, a case of
the product of the very friendly Lake Breeze winery was somehow squeezed
onto the boot.
Then
across the Murray river courtesy of the ferry at Wellington.
.
We then paused at a pink lake. A very dry lake, and a very white
pink. Click here for another picture,
and a closer view of why it's pink.
The
first of the Lake Breeze bottles was demolished during a picnic by the
Coorong, loooking out over the Younghusband peninsula. Mark decided
to get a bit closer to the Younghusband by doing a bit of plodging, and
managed to find every razor-sharp rock in the area to park his plates on.
After
a few crashes, David got the kite flying and Mark took a photo of the thing
in mid-air. But something went a bit wrong, as the results, while
psychedelic, were not very kite-like.
A
longish drive along straight roads full of loads of bugger all took us
to the other end of the Younghusband, with its huge and spectacular sand
dunes. So we decided to take a walk on them. Mistake.
The main route to the dunes doubled as a track for 4x4s, where the vegetation
had been worn away leaving a long upward gradient of extremely soft sand.
It was, shall we say, somewhat heavy going. Rupert, David and Mark
scrambled up the banks to find the firmer sands higher up, but Patrick
(no doubt due to his greater mass-to-footprint ratio), was sinking into
the silica with every single step, and looked in danger of conking out
altogether. Still, we got some nice views of the dunes, and the sea.
More
driving. More loads and loads of bugger all.
Finally,
we found a place called Kingston. It had a bypass. And a very
large fibreglass lobster. The fibreglass lobster had a motel attached
to it with the last two unocccupied rooms in the area, so we ground to
a halt and sampled the local seafood (which, as was becoming tradition,
took an age to get served, but was really very good).
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