30 November Monday Into Victoria

We broke camp, said good-bye to our short-term neighbours and drove down to Khancoban for morning tea. Mal picked up a painting shirt at the op shop and we got our gas bottle filled at the caravan park.

Then we rolled out over fairly dry grazing country and crossed the river into Mexico. Well Victoria actually.

The landscape felt unusual after 10 days in the Kozey-Oz_Co National Park.

We crossed the Mita Mita River which was in full flow, without breaking it's banks - I guess there must be a dam upstream that was sending down water for the birds and animals - why else would they do it?

We turned South on the Omo Highway. The road climbs to about 1400 meters and then drops slowly toward Omo.

We stopped shy of Omo at a small campground called Angler's Rest. There is a small Inn next to the river and the road does a long run along the river, crosses the bridge at the Inn and then completes a hairpin bend and runs along the opposite side of the river. The campground is sandwiched between the road and the river.

While the traffic noise was zero overnight, the frogs sang a lusty tune of romance which was accompanied by crickets and the scratching of a large possum trying to climb our back stairs.

One can not pass on without mentioning that Mal, who moved his wallet from his top pocket to stop it falling in the river, and put it in his hip pocket, went down to see how cold the water in the river was. He stepped onto what he took for a compacted sand bank, but which proved to be very slippery mud - and he slid into the river - the water he reports was not freezing.

As Mal's sister would probably add - he has been falling in accidently since he could walk - somethings never change.

1 December Tuesday

We woke up and before we could move Mal disappeared down to the creek with his ketch pad and Sue followed some yellow tailed cockatoos for an impromptu photoshoot. Sue came back really excited as the session had worked out really well.

We swept across the alps, hair flying in the alpine breeze (well Sue at least) and tied our selves in knots the road is so convoluted. At Swift Creek we pied up at the bakery and then kinked, bent and undulated our way through to Bairnsdale.

First fuel stop since Jindabyne, which is pretty good given the steep hills up and down and the low travel speeds and the trailer.

Mal found an art shop in Bairnsdale which has lightened our bank account so the ferry will not sink on the way across.

Then we checked out the current prices for Wilson's Prom - how does $105 per night for two people on an unpowered site. The CEO of Big4 must have been employed to set the fees. So we are not going to camp there. As much as anything it is the principle of the matter. If people want to pay that amount then I guess the government will think that the rip off is working so why not.