At about 5:30 in the evening it’s all thunderbolts and lightning with large hail as well. The park quickly becomes a white wonderland and the drifts of hail take hours to melt. We’re all surprised that our vans have suffered no damage. Dazza’s campfire somehow manages to survive the onslaught and around the fire, Maria who hails from Brazil, educates us on the Saints Days of Brazil and how to find a lost iphone. Now that involves jumping three times like a kangaroo and calling the name of a saint that none of us knew even existed let alone can pronounce. Oh, and it works for passports too. Now what was the name of that saint?
The boys light the fire again the next night and we are joined by our neighbours. We educate them on the delights to be found at Aldi (they come from a country town devoid of such pleasures). Between the A Vanners beside us who chatter like budgies and our mob who are in stitches with our neighbour’s tales of her brother’s love life, three wives and ‘livin’ the dream’ with his Filipino girlfriends, the park is alive once more with laughter.