Some might say that Townsville is an interesting place. Such people should be treated with suspicion and caution as they are either lying or very strange.
No, that´s not fair. Probably. It represented a bit of a comedy of errors for the four of us during our brief visit. Rob & Gilly arrived early that morning having driven until late the prior evening with express purpose of being with us to celebrate Fi´s Birthday. With a broad agenda of odd jobs and reconnaissance to find a spot for a nice evening meal we rolled into the centre.
Rob & Gilly´s thoroughly more cultured approach to globe-trotting took us to the art gallery first. This proved to be closed while they altered the exhibits. These things happen so on to plan B & the water park. Closed until June. Oh. Our attempts to exchange books & pick up odds & ends were also thwarted, and when a wander around the local eateries reminded us we weren´t in ´Nam anymore Fi decided she much preferred the idea of a buffet blowout of tasty supermarket delights & fine wines back in the camp kitchen over the pawning of an organ.
On our return to camp Fi went to call home while unbeknownst to her we filled our van with balloons. After that surprise it was wine o´clock (i.e. we were awake and remembered that wine existed) and the buffet was laid out much to the envy of other campers, two of whom inexplicably thought that bread with a micro-waved jar of Ragu was a meal. The spread must´ve blown their mind – hopefully they´ve discovered pasta now.
At 10:30pm we got called on the noise of opening a van door. This is what you get when you stay amidst the aging residents of a caravan park. We called it a night.