Day 108 Route Parnka to Kingston
I had a good sleep out there at Parnka, communing with nature in my little tent, and serenaded by the booming Southern Ocean surf on the other side of the Coorong all night. I was up and gone by 6.30 – and could have easily made it 5.30 – but I was low on water and wanted to give time for the Policeman Point store to open. The Coorong, by the way, is the name given to a 130km narrow body of fresh water fed with flows from the Murray River and cut off from the ocean by a narrow ‘neck’ of pristine sand hills along its entire length.
Well, there is no store at Policaman Point – just a pub, and it was closed anyway, so I pushed on, waterless. I got to Salt Creek (40km) by 8.15 and waited till 8.30 for the store there to open and got a so-so hamburger, one small bottle of coke and one of Bundaberg brand pineapple fizz, 2 x 1.5l of plain ol’ chilled water and, rather bizarrely on my part, a six-pack of small ‘beer sticks’ (salamis), all for the exorbitant price of $46. Water at $4.80 each versus the $1.80 I paid in Meningie. sets the price-tone.
Still and all, the person looking after the shop, a young English lass, was lovely and I have no complaints – it would have been an awful ride without the chilled water, and once again I congratulated myself on the purchase of those brand spanking new insulated thermos flasks. Some interesting ‘artifacts’ in the Salt Creek store, that’s for sure! They had 4 of the biggest salamis I’ve ever seen for sale – not just one but 4 – a major stock problem I’d have thought, but no, the shopkeeper assured me they are in big demand from all the recreational fisherfolk on the Coorong. There they are: hanging down the side of the Jim Beam fridge.
A little snippet I found interesting was that in 2013, an empty lifeboat from a shipwreck that occurred off Tristan da Cunha, 8,000 km away in the Southern Atlantic Ocean, got washed up on the local beach after a 23-month trek across the seas. Why do I find that so fascinating? Not to mention the fact that some French tourist couple posted a letter, that the owner proudly displays, to say their child was conceived there! I felt sorry for them – I mean how could they pinpoint the occasion so accurately, unless of course they sent half-a-dozen other similar letters to other places they stopped at along the way, just in case.
The range of 110 km I got on the batteries was good considering the conditions (flat, but no helping wind, mainly TOUR to TURBO modes in gears 9 and 10), but unfortunately I needed 125 km range to get to Kingston, and without much interesting in the way of intermediate stop-over points, by 12 pm I elected to charge-up at the 110km-mark at the Coorong rest stop. An instant horde of sand flies decended, but the “Bushman Plus” spread-on ointment works a real treat, I can tell you, and I had no bother from any insects after liberal application to all exposed parts.
Just before my charging stop, I’d come across another cycle tourist going the other way (North) and I pulled over for a chat – not that she (it turned out to be a ‘she’) was very chatty. It was a young German girl who’d left Robe that morning and was intending to make Salt Creek for the night. Good on her! That’d be 100km for the day; OK, only travelling light, but, unlike me, no battery assistance. I really do admire such people. Apparently, she’d spent 3 hours battling strong head winds to get from Robe to Kingston (41 km), or so a guy I met in the Kingston caravan park later told me she told him. Hmm. travelling in the opposite direction, I sure never got the tailwind that goes with that!
I pulled in to the Information Office in Kingston and they enthusiastically gave me the lowdown on the local caravan park, where I ended up staying, but it was quite decrepit by the standard of caravan parks generally. Pity, then, that they never mentioned the spanking new council-run RV park which is only half the price, is much nicer and is in the centre of all the action. I only found about it when I trekked up to the pub for dinner (schnitzel $10), saw the RV park across the street and the couple at my table happened to be staying there. Petty politics! I was later told the town folk are against the RV park because it is not good for (ie. taking away business from) other local businesses, but to my mind the bigger picture is that, widely promoted, it would be a boon to tourism in the town. It’s not going to fail (its already on all the grey nomad camping apps) so embrace it, I say. As for the caravan park where I stayed: its just changed hands, the previous owner saw the writing on the wall when the RV initiative came to fruition and bailed out.
