Arrived here at The Oakridge Motel & Caravan Park at about 2.45 pm. It was hot, about 32 degrees but felt even hotter because it was a dry heat, not the humid sticky heat of the coast. The breeze was hot, blowing across hot dry paddocks and the short, burr laden, grass crackled under our feet. The dogs were panting, and it was more difficult for them than us. Perspiration beaded our foreheads as we checked in, reluctantly getting out of the air conditioned vehicle. The old bloke, (tongue in cheek. he’s about my age) was hobbling on one leg and he asked us to fix up our accommodation account tomorrow when his wife would be on deck. Apparently he did not have much of a handle on the computer, and as he likes a chat
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