After an overnight stopover in Dongara (nothing to see folks... move along, move along...) we set off early in the morning for Geraldton with big plans. Thirty kilometres shy of our destination a tyre flies off the caravan and our plans fly out the window. The caravan needs to go in for substantial repairs, we need to downsize our life yet again so that we can fit what we need into just the car - and it looks like it will be cabin n' motel accomodation for us for the next week, at least.
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| The damage up close. The tow guy informs us that he was called out to a similar incident a week ago, but instead of the tyre shooting out and across the road (as ours did), it shot up through the body of the caravan and ripped the whole side apart. So it seems, in the scheme of things, we got off lightly. That, and the fact that it all happened near enough to Geraldton, a city with not one, but two, caravan repair shops to choose from.... as opposed to, say, the Nullarbor. |
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| Benji is transfixed watching the van being hitched up onto the tow truck. His siblings are transfixed on the DVD movie we have put on for them in the car... one of many in what quickly becomes known as the "great movie marathon day". |
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| Every day we set off somewhere in the car, Benji, without fail, has asked "Is our caravan behind us?" Today, as we trail the tow truck, we can answer for the first time "no dude, it's in front". |
