Our plan to get away early, which included a significant amount of the packing being done last night, came unstuck with most of the remainder done and us having a quick breakfast. As we consumed our cornflakes and weetbix, a talking head appeared at our open van door and invited itself into our life for the next half hour. A fellow Avanist - its a word if I say so - she wanted to know if we were on our way to Coolum for the annual Avan Club meeting. Despite us assuring her we were not clubists and never will be, she proceded to do what all Avan owners do ... look at our improvements and tell us about hers.
Perfect timing and a prime example of what we call the goodbye hello. There's this thing where-by you can stay in a caravan park or a campground for three or four days and the people around you say nothing but on the morning you are leaving, usually mid-pack up, over they come for a conversation!
Alf with Banjo's leather coat
Leaving that behind, we knocked of the 70kms to Yeoval and found ourselves outside the accurately yet somewhat pleonastically named "Banjo Paterson - More Than A Poet Museum". Run by Alf and Sandra - although Sandra was in Sydney assisting with a new grandchild - you pay a token ammount for a whole world of information and not only through the objects on display and the signage. For no extra charge, you are given an auditory commentary which corresponds to numbers on the displays. Enter the number and press the green button and the hand held device tells you all about that which is before your eyes. It's all here because Yeoval was the childhood home of the Banjo. A really good little museum and incredible value at $5 or $3 for seniors.
Stay and have a Devonshire Tea with Alf and if you are lucky, he'll have time for a chin wag. The two hours we spent in Yeoval typify why we like to be on the road: always ready to be surprised by things and to enjoy the company of the locals we meet in these small towns.
After we finished in the museum, I went and stood with the giant statue of Banjo in his military uniform and read "Clancy of the Overflow". Seemed like the thing to do.
Our decision not to stay anywhere between Parkes and home was justified by the sighting of mice at every stop today.
From there, the afternoon was just a push for home and contained nothing that was remarkable except the huge solar farm outside Wellington and the windfarm that soon followed it. Lunch at Gulgong, ice creams at Coolah and home. made just on dusk and a short but highly enjoyable two weeks came to reassuring close.
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