TOD Tour - Day 8, Nambucca

It rained last night ... correction ... during the early hours of this morning. It was loud.

In the morning, the rain sparked an interest in the weather forecast for the next week. It usually has only scant interest and mostly only when we are planning an outdoors type of activity, so it was only a cursory glance; until I discovered that up to 200mm of rain is predicted to fall in the next three days.

Gulp!

For those playing at home, that's 8 inches on the old scale. We were so distraught, we needed coffee, so chose the Bookshop Cafe, across the road from the Nambucca Post Office. It has a collection of pre-loved books, not many of them in the really old category and some wonderful looking tucker, most of which are on my heavily banned list. Long black and English Breakfast ... again. We are yet to discover a cafe on the coast which provides lactose-free milk. Sue wandered for the next hour or so while I wrote. Somewhere during the morning I arranged two poetry gigs for the next few weeks - one at the caravan park and one at the cafe.

View from behind our
lunch plates

It was lunch time by the time I was finished with morning tea, so we went to the very pleasant but simple Boathouse Cafe, set on what is called the Inner Harbour of the lower reach of the Nambucca River. It is so close to the water, the only thing between the building and river were a narrow band of oysters and barnacles. We had grilled fish and salad and a pleasant hour.

After lunch - as tempted as we were to go straight to afternoon tea - we sought out a hardware/camping store and purchased some additional pegs and ropes to erect the annex we had gifted to us in Tamworth. By gifted I mean left on our front doorstep without so much as a silver bullet. Whoever you are, thank you. We ran out of time to see if it would fit our Avan before we left Tamworth, so I rather reluctantly included it in our pack so we could try it out when we had time. With lots of wet weather coming, it seemed opportune. It proved a lovely surprise. Apart from the special attachments needed to fit the skirt along the bottom of the van, the new annex fitted perfectly and will be our saving grace in the days ahead.

Kelp me if you can,
I'm feeling drowned ...

In the late afternoon, we walked along the beach which is just through the grass and dunes. On the other side of us is rainforest. There was an extraordinary collection of kelp in one section of the beach and an extraordinary number of marathon-class old women in bikinis almost everywhere else. These were women whose buttocks could crack walnuts and the sad examples of old blokes who walked beside them, half stumbling while their female companions strode out and then waited and then strode out again, gave rise to the distinct impression that men are a doomed section of the genetic mix. Mind you, afterwards in the the caravan park pool, the collection old dears doing self-regulated aqua aerobics somewhat evened the balance. Not one hair on their head was either wet or out of place and their Olympic event was giggling.

After our swim, we retired to beers and books.

The sky is darkening and the ocean has raised to a roar beyond the dunes. The tops of the tall eucalypts are acting out the stronger winds but we are reasonably sheltered. A check of the forecast indicates the maximum rainfall has been downgraded to just 130mm in the next three days. Small mercies.