Waking up in Quinninup we find that one of the back tyres is flat again, there is something strange going on. We pack up, fill it with air and call around to see where we can get a tyre repaired on short notice. It seems that Walpole, about 90 km from here, is the answer.
We drive over more hills and past nice National Parks (we assume they are nice but are not allowed to go in with Dotti and Nossi) until we get closer to the ocean.
Then we come to the small car mechanic annex tyre shop annex parcel depot. A nice guy who lives here for 9 years and will only leave in a box (his words). It seems he enjoys Walpole.
We have about 2 hours to look around the place but it feels too small. It is loved by people to have a lunch time stop and the council has smartly stepped in by creating a big parking lot for caravans, a nice Tourist Information centre and lunch tables under the trees. But otherwise it is kind of run down, with shops closed.
The estuary is conspicuously brown, Marjo suspects tee trea, I wasn’t game to taste.
It is already quite late when we finish up with the tyre and taking petrol (there’s no concept of queues here, so at some point Marjo just stood in front of the pumps so I could turn around our rig and we were able to fill ‘m up).
Then we drove to the caravan park near Peaceful Bay, a road with pretty wild flowers.
We walked to the beach which is somewhat strangely organized with a large commercial boat loading area and a rocky area where non commercial activities are allowed. We didn’t explore further but sat on the roomy camping and ordered fish and chips. I could say that I cooked, but then Marjo would look with that look that says “that joke is getting old”.
After the sun set we left the mosquitos alone and read a book.
Posted from Peaceful Bay, Western Australia, Australia.
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