Day 544 | 10 km north of Blanchetown: on the dirt road side

95 km | zzOz total: 17,421 km

More sailing at great pace north through this remarkable countryside with the monster wind at my back: it’s typical Outback Australia, dry grass, scarce woody vegetation, slightly undulating, and over there, often not discernible are steep cliffs down to the massive Murray.

Highlight of the day: having lunch on a patch of mown grass looking over the river and a busy ferry crossing out in the middle of nowhere, I can’t work out where all those Sunday drivers are coming from or going to, jet skis and speedboats competing for the most intrusive decibel level, the low throb of a “futuristic”, ie, hideous looking, snail shaped houseboat, all bronze coloured glass, chugging past.

Lowlight: believe it or not, it’s finding water in amongst the plenty.

In most Australian towns, even in the driest of regions, there’s usually an accessible tap in a public park. Not here. They are rare, often the only one is at the back of the public toilets with the last three all with signs saying “non-potable”, who cares about that, but when it flows it’s as brown as that river.

At Swan Reach, a smallish settlement that has another ferry, in desperation I grab some from a stray tap near the road, it’s the caravan park.

I’m spotted by the Teacher’s Pet who alerts the manager, who races out to deny me a refill of two bottles.

You mean you are refusing water to a guy riding a bike? The bloke starts to look sheepish, (it clearly ain’t the right thing but he’s not going to back down now), David his shirt states, he stands his ground and whips out a cigarette, you would describe him from his primary characteristic: massive girth.

Teacher’s Pet stands in the background, not much moral support back there.

I guess it shows how much I’ve changed in recent times, I’m calm, unconcerned realising I’ve found the topic for today’s blog post, in times past I would have stood my ground and argued.

I do stand for a moment, appraising this fellow human being, it’s obviously nothing about water, just a whole world of frustration and sadness and anger in roughly equal allotments, breaking to the surface.

Instead I smile.

To me it’s grace under pressure that classes you in the scheme of things, I’ve seen too many people losing it in my time.

Have a nice Christmas.

I refrain from continuing with the obvious addendum.

I hope you have a better year next year.