While you could opt for breakfast in Gladstone, the game plan, having sighted a reasonably priced servo on the way back from the fish shop, was to refuel there, head south through Miriam Vale and Gin Gin and stop for a brunch in Childers. from there, we reasoned, a further couple of hours would take us to Eumundi, where another rest stop could be spent browsing through the shops (there's a Berkelouw Books there, for a start, so that looks after me) would give the driver a lengthy break, and we could probably grab a bite to eat as well if we were so inclined.
The trip itself was more or less uneventful, passing the once preferred overnight option at Koorawatha (which hasn't been the same since Basil and Sibyl sold up and retired), discussion of matters relating to operating a successful business in a relatively isolated location took us a fair way towards Gin Gin after we'd noted that the little place south of Miriam Vale (the only other place you can buy fuel between Miriam Vale and Gin Gin) seemed to be closed for renovations.
There was, I suppose, always the possibility that our preferred brunch option, the cafe beside the Post Office in Childers, might be closed on Sunday, but there were bound to be other options in a town that has always struck me as reasonably tourist and backpacker oriented, and as it turned out we didn't need to go looking for other options.
A savory vegetable and garlic omelette mightn't quite have melted in my mouth, but it wasn't far off doing so, and Madam's ham and cucumber sandwiches were large enough to ensure that she wouldn't be needing to top up in Eumundi.
Back in the car we bypassed Maryborough, ran through Gympie without incident and were turning off at Eumundi just before two. With the Markets having closed, things were pretty quiet in the main street as Madam set off in search of another jacket and Hughesy took a wander through the book shop.
A phone call from the neighbour to advise that I'd left the air conditioning on in the office soon put an end to equanimity, though the problem wasn't going to be too hard to fix, given the fact that we'd made arrangements to cover such eventualities.
Up to this point, however, the tally in the mistakes made in preparation had been weighted heavily in Hughesy's favor, since I had an excuse to cover the modem, which wasn't a major issue unless there was a thunderstorm, and I hadn't neglected to bring my jacket. Now, however, it was level pegging.
The run through the Sunshine Coast hinterland looked like being rain-affected, but, fortunately, the weather held off for most of the journey and, in any case, the only place where we were getting out of the car was a covered area at the roadside complex at Burpengary.
We possibly didn't need to refuel there, but it was another opportunity for a break, and meant that we wouldn't have to worry about refilling elsewhere between Brisbane and Southport.
It was around four thirty when we turned into Marine Parade, and a couple of minutes later, there we were car parked and unpacking in the nether regions below the Southport Unit.
With the unit currently occupied by a nephew with university exams in progress, we're trying to maintain a low and minimally disruptive profile, something most of Hughesy's acquaintances would probably describe as a physical impossibility, but with a big day's travel behind us, this member of the early to bed and early to rise fraternity was happily toddling off to bed around eight-thirty after a substantial bowl of ramen at Ichiban Boshi and a fair whack of Pikes Gill's Farm Mourvedre when we got back to the Unit.
No comments:
Post a Comment