Kangaroo Island, our last hurrah! A week before we head for home (albeit slowly) along the banks of the sometimes mighty Murray.
Kangaroo Island (KI to the locals) is big. It’s roughly a 150 km long and 55 or so km wide at the widest point. It’s also the next largest island in Australia after Tasmania. But you don’t fork out 500 bucks on a ferry ride (4 passengers a car and a caravan) cause it’s big, you fork out for the wildlife and the scenery. Although I would have forked out 500 bucks just for the sand boarding. But more on that later. Continue reading “Day 127-132 KI our last hurrah”
There are some sounds that just aren’t nice. Finger nails dragging down a chalk board is one. A shovel scraping over concrete (Emma’s favourite noise) is another. As a caravan pilot I do not like the sound of an awning trying to occupy the same space as a tree. I couldn’t describe just what this sound is like, suffice perhaps to say it is sufficiently different to the usual caravan noises to have made me very quickly realise I had done something stoopid.
It all happened at a carpark just outside the Barossa town of Angaston. As I manoeuvred the car and van away from the edge of the drive the awning fitted to the outside edge of the caravan caught the edge of a tree that was clearly located too close to the Yalumba winery. The tree must have been drunk because it was leaning heavily to the side. Continue reading “Day 126 Duck… duck… GOOSE!”
‘It has a chalky finish, plenty of fruit on the palette and without the big acidic notes you get with some wines. Also a hint of ginger there, it’s very subtle, a complex drop’. We are at Skillogalee in the Clare Valley and Ian and I are sampling the goods while Emma distracts Amy and Oliver outside amongst the vines. Continue reading “Day 122-125 A taste of the good life”