Out of Narrandera on a grey morning where layers of cloud became progressively darker, a vast field of flowering canola gave the impression of the sun shining up from the ground to illuminate all that greyness. After a while I became used to the darkness of the cloud and the generally dark shades of scrubby bush, relieved only by bright streaks of red earth alongside the strip of bitumen.
A sensible speed limit of 110km/hr – and very little traffic beyond the occasional truck or caravan – meant I wasn’t worrying about time elapsed. I knew I had to get miles behind me today, and this I did. Camel, as always, behaved impeccably and was quite miserly with the fuel, considering she was loping along at a steady 10km/hr above her usual speed.
There was no danger of hitting any wild-life today. There simply was none. No kangaroos, despite the warning signs. Not a single road-killed ‘roo decorated the thoroughfare; no sheep after about 50kms, and no cattle after the gate with the sign that read, “Hells Gate Feedlot – Keep Out”. Not so much as an insect suicided on the front of Camel. Then, within sight of Benanee Lake, one lone emu strode along the bank of a dam, bent down to drink and paused to watch the traffic. Yay, I thought. There is life out here after all.
Last night’s motel was great. It wasn’t posh, but it had everything – including the faint whiff of sewer. It was quite cheap and the breakfast was absolutely to die for. This one is rather more pretentious, but I was running out of options and, at the risk of having to continue to Renmark or deal with the heavy traffic to go back to the river, on the banks of which were umpteen motels, I checked into this one. Along with its pretentiousness comes the price – as you’d expect – and a restaurant… and a posh young lady in a uniform in reception. No ordinary key for the room but a plastic card. Also no towels! A call to reception had them whisked to my room but… what is it with upmarket establishments? I believe they employ consultants to advise them on ingenious ways to hide things like towels, against the possibility you might want to use them.
“They’re here,” the lass said from somewhere behind the bathroom door.
“Oh?”
“Yes. Look.” The towels were indeed hiding behind the bathroom door. I shall need a step ladder to reach them though, as they towel rack is right… up… there.
There are a couple of wine glasses in this vast and fancy room. I shall have a little of your wine this evening, Del. I had some last night, but somehow it didn’t taste right from a coffee mug! I must say I’m enjoying it hugely. I think tomorrow (Wednesday) night in Adelaide will see the last of it.