Day 25 7/8/2019 Wednesday 1770 to Mulambin, wet 17
We had a warm night and are just pulling ourselves together when the skies open…”Shit the shoes!” We hadn’t expected rain and the shoes are outside without the protection of the awning. We pack up in steady rain and of course everything gets covered in wet, dirty, grey sand.
Now to answer the question, did we love it or hate it? Well, the little town of 1770 and it’s pretty cove was delightful and it was an experience to be camped right on the beach, but the camp ground has to be the second worst we’ve stayed in. A dust bowl of dirty grey sand, even where there is a bitumen roadway it’s covered in dirty grey sand. Management make no effort to tidy or rake the sites when they are vacant and they seem to have no concept as to the different size requirements of rigs and where they should be placed. It seems that a two man tent or a 25foot van could be placed on the same site. In summary we loved 1770 and hated the camp ground.
Feeling grotty we stop at Miriam Vale, which is alive with the chatter of fruit bats, and brush some of the sand off ourselves before joining the traffic on the Bruce Highway which seems to be a constant stream of caravan traffic heading south. For us heading north there are roadworks. Stopped in a long line of traffic we get a strange text message on the phone. While I’m trying to decipher something about a red car behind us, a face suddenly appears at the window. Woody just about jumps out of his skin and realises that it’s his brother. Of course the red car.
We scoot through Rockhampton and on to the Capricorn Coast while loudly shouting abuse at Alan Jones on Sydney radio. Sydney talkback radio is so different to Melbourne talkback that we always find it amusing no matter how serious the topic.
It feels like we’re coming home to the NRMA Capricorn Yeppoon Holiday Park at Mulambin as this is our third stay and we’ve been given a particularly spacious site. As we set up three curlews watch our every move from the ‘safety’ of the garden. But it’s been a tiring day with a worrisome pack up in rain and dirt, then a drive that we’ve done many times. I can’t share the driving at present as my ribs are still sore. Setting up at Capricorn takes time as everything needs a good scrub and sand seems to be hidden in every crevice. I think an alien has taken control of the loo, the fridge has become incontinent and there’s a mountain of washing to be done as for obvious reasons we chose not to do it in 1770.
When Woody the Elder (they’re renting an apartment in Yeppoon) rings to pass on dinner as they’re too tired, we dash to Emu Park and grab a pizza from our favourite, Pizza Under Fire. With a coax cable strung through the kitchen window we have TV again but are now too tired to watch it. We fall into bed at 8:30 and then the ribs start hurting…a lot. I knew I shouldn’t have done all that housework. The curlews are screaming, I’m moaning, Woody’s in for a great night.

Summary 281kms, power, water, toilets, showers, a heavenly park!
A bad day. But tomorrow will be better? And those curlews definitely aren’t the same as our curlews!
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They must have been named by a homesick ornithologist.
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Sounds like a tough day. Shame that campsite was so grotty but you don’t seem to have too many bad ones. Hope the ribs start mending and stop giving you so much trouble soon.
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Thanks Jonno, I think the frustration was that the place could have been so much better with just a little effort.
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Those curlews can fuel some pretty scary dreams in the dead of night! Once heard, never forgotten.
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The first time I heard them I thought a woman was being murdered in the camp. On another evening we were joking that someone’s two year old must have been throwing a tantrum when we realised that it was a curlew standing at the front of the van screaming at us.
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