Somebody get me a can opener!

All right, all right.

So it’s been a while between posts.

 

In my defence, it’s been like, 80 degrees around here.

Celsius.

In my tin can house.

With no air conditioner.

Parked on a concrete slab.

Not a shade tree in sight.

 

All I’ve been able to is bark at the kids to spray me with the spray bottle we bought specifically for such occasions, & periodically take myself off for a cold shower.

 

I’m still not sure who’s fabulous idea it was, but we left lovely, cool, beachy, heavenly Esperance the other week & drove inland to Wave Rock, the hottest & most highly anticipated part of Georgie’s trip so far.

The outside temperature crept up with every kilometre we covered.

The oil pressure dropped, the engine got a bit bothered requiring the air conditioning to be TURNED OFF, & there wasn’t

a crack nor crevice that didn’t drip with sweat.

Even the old eyelids got a bit runny if left opened for too long.

 

As we drove along, listening to the soothing sounds of the kid in the back squealing “DAAAAAD! TOO WINNY (windy)! PUT YOUR WINOW (window) UP PWEEZE, NOW!”, I imagined the cool oasis waiting for us in Hyden. An oxymoron, surely?

 

The temperature on arrival was 41.8 degrees.

Again, CELSIUS!

 

We realised at that point there is a caravan park conveniently located next to ‘The Rock’, & that in the interest of health & safety (everyone else’s) it wouldn’t be a very good idea to make me the car travel any further that day.

 

The pool at said caravan park is the bluest I’ve ever seen.

 

After a few hours, & a couple of refreshing dips in the pool, it was finally cool enough to attempt to climb the Wave.

At midnight.

 

No, not really.

It was late, late afternoon.

And it lived up to all Georgie’s expectations.

A big rock, in the middle of B.F. Nowhere, that looks like a wave.

 

Done & done.

 

 

As an extra little jab to the ribs from Mother Nature, & just to confirm that it was in fact hot & dry, we even managed to get stuck up there in a dust storm.

 

 

It did make for a lovely sunset though.

 

 

Thankfully, the next day was slightly cooler as we crawled back to Perth.

We drove via the ‘Tin Horse Highway’, where I was made to take 8 million photographs of all the clever little horse type statues the locals had put together to keep their towns on the map.

 

 

And for a town with a population of about 5, check out the slides at the local pool…

Now that’s my kind of local council.

 

Wave Rock Caravan Park scores a 2 Pubes rating from me.

 

The bathrooms were clean, the camp kitchen & dinning area was well setup & the lady in reception, who talked Laithe out of driving any further that day, is on my Christmas card list FOR LIFE.  

 

Kulin, the small town at the other end of the ‘Tin Horse Highway’ was also pretty impressive. Even without the generously sized aquatics centre. Nice kids playground, well maintained gardens, a free history lesson & awesome looking old pub, though I thought it in everybody’s best interest if I avoided going in there for a drink look.

 

What have I learned so far?

• I’m not good with heat. In fact, I HATE the heat. Strong words, but non truer have ever been spoke.

 

• Sweating from the knees, & the eyelids, is as unattractive as it ever was.

 

• I don’t for a second, think it unreasonable to request Laithe install a couple of Whirly Birds in this great, big, hot Son of a Bitch that I now call ‘home’. Or, at least, don’t try to stop me from trying to peel the roof of at midnight with a can opener, eye twitching, because I’ve gone a little bit mad(der) due to my core temperature hovering around 42 for the last 3 days.