Wellington

As Dave and I had found a very handy tail-wind to help push us up the map towards Adelaide, we were able to burn 150km's in one day past Kingston SE. That night we camped on the side of the highway, exhausted and hungry, but feeling very accomplished with our efforts. The road had been long and strait, which was a welcome relief for my struggling knee. The next day we flew through the Adelaide Plains, which were utterly uninteresting, so head down, I stared at Dave's back wheel the entire time. Utilising the strong tail, we pushed out 110km's at an average of 30km/hour. When we entered the Wellington entrance - a ferry across the Murray River - we hit the pub for some cold refreshments. Dave was becoming a little sick from some dodgy food we had eaten, so we went to find somewhere to camp on the river. Fortunately, in our search for a camp spot, we came across some of the wildest, strangest people we had ever met - they were rough as guts. Due to our polite approach and shabby appearance, we were welcomed to camp on their front lawn right on the river. Their family had owned the entire street for generations. However, we could stay there only on the condition that we showered, joined them for a hot dinner, and sat up drinking their beers... Alot to ask from two hungry, smelly, thirsty boys indeed!! We soon discovered that we would not be doing much talking as they ranted on and on later into the night. Their tales were tall, and sometimes made no sense at all. They were not even slightly interested to hear about our biking trip, which suited us just fine as we were buggered anyway. Mick - the tree-cutter 'by trade', Tina - the industrial spray-painter 'by trade' (clearly the fumes had taken their long-term toll on her brain), and Ferret - a nomadic oil-rigger. That night as we crawled into our tents, Dave hurried into my tent in a panic to whisper that Mick was standing on his porch watching us like a hawk. He had conjured images in his head of the witch in Hansel and Gretel, fattening us up before turning us into a tasty stew. Mick's watchful silhouette turned out to be a statue.
Breakfast was ready for us with a packed-lunch the next day. We left with promises that they were welcome at our place in Melb any time (lies).
A humble family with small brains and big hearts.