04 April 2011

Adventure Bay, Bruny Island

Oh, to wake up to skies that are clearing, that is my only wish for today.  And wouldn’t you know it, it happened.  The rain clouds threatened and spittled and looked as though they would not be denied but someone was looking out for us, someone who understood that one more rainy day cooped up in the van would be a bad thing, a very bad thing, the kind of thing that could end badly for someone, and they blew those clouds away.  Fluted Cape hike, you’re on.

But not before some campground intrigue.  Despite having the entire motorhome hook-up area to ourselves (note: this is often a good way to get completely creeped out during a pitch-black, blustery, downpouring night, if you’re into that sort of thing), we weren’t completely alone, there being a family of four camped out in one of the cozy cabins.  Gina insisted that something strange was going on when we saw the husband and wife head past our van for a morning walk, only to later see just the husband coming back alone, no wife in sight.  It takes but not a minute of thought before she has the husband under suspicion of murder, clearly having shoved his wife off one of those towering dolerite cliffs and now we need to think hard about how we would describe her, the victim, and him, the perpetrator, when the police come asking.  I think she’s been reading too many of those trashy magazines until I hear myself saying, in reply to her wondering how the police would find us, that they would probably just check the guest book we signed up at the office and track us down via the rental car agency.  What?  Now I’ve gone all CSI too?  Sadly, this line of conversation goes on for a good while until, thankfully, we see the wife walking past, no harm done, no need for police artists or license plate tracings, all is well in Adventure Bay.

Back at camp after our own hike of the dolerite cliffs, safe from any harm, it seems that I cannot get enough of the wallabies.  Enough photos, that is.  The “General We” talks about how great it is to take digital photos because you can so easily delete what you don’t want.  But somehow I am not a good Deleter.  I look at the picture, click the forward button, notice that this next picture is nearly identical to the previous one, click the back button, hmmm, click the forward button again, back, forward, back, forward, try to suss out which one might look better on the bigger computer screen back home, the one that’s actually not sitting in any home right now because I don’t have a home but is instead in a box on a cargo ship to be unpacked goodness knows when, back, forward, back, forward, oh heck, it’s just memory, I say to myself, and I move on to the next, not deleting a thing.  Yes, the power of digital delete eludes me.  I wish it weren’t so, but it is, and next time you’re at my house (that home I don’t currently have) and the computer is randomly displaying photos and you glance over and think to yourself, Didn’t I just see that picture? you’ll remember this blog and you’ll understand.