Australia. Sorrento and French Island.

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Sorrento and French Island
Our injured rider came back from hospital last night just as we arrived at the Sorrento Beach Motel after our Itslian dinner. The dinner price was OK but the wine was $54 and $40 per bottle - extortion. As we approached the motel in darkness we saw the bus which had gone off its route to drop off Sugan and Joanne. What a great driver and he made no charge. Sugan was walking very badly with assistance and still unsteady and in pain, though with full memory again. The following day she was still unsteady and so we arranged a taxi to take her to Stony Point whilst we rode into Rye to buy her a new helmet. On to Balnarring for lunch and then to Stony Point to meet Sugan and await the 4.15 ferry. On the way to Dromada we saw a group of gawpers, only to find they were watching the recovery of a BMW X5 from the sea. The driver had reversed down the slipway to collect a jet ski and had pressed the wrong pedal and lurched into the deep. Luckily he got out before it went down. It must have been the day of disasters , or donkeys, because we saw exactly the same thing at Stony Point where a Land Rover Discovery and trailer were fully submerged off the slipway. We had to catch the ferry and just missed it being hauled ashore. The ferry took about 20 minutes to get us to French Island and saw the graveyard of old cars. All the cars we saw on the islands dirt road were spending their very last days there. It reminded me of the Outer Hebrides. The island contains the largest population of Koalas anywhere in the world and there was even one outside our cabin eating away at some Eucalyptus leaves. There are Copper and Tiger snakes on the island so we must be careful.
Great meal at the Eco Hotel courtesy of Phil Bock and his helpers and some good draught Victorian red wine. No, not produced in the Victorian era. The four men were in the bunkhouse but all managed a lower bunk so no leg breakages or head crunching getting down at night. However, the resident mossy buzzing around all night did not help my sleep pattern. Luckily it did not approach me for supper. Now Tuesday and a forecast of 38 degrees. I think I will put on some sunscreen before a ride out to the Eco Farm and the old prison.
What a hell of a day. Got back exhausted at 4.10pm. We set of steady enough on the cinder dirt roads with a washboard surface for much of the way which slowed is down and did my wrists a power of no good. We went past the school with a ro of 10 1/2 pupils, at least. It was called Perseverance School. The area reminded me more of the film 'Deliverance’. Onwards we went towards the far eastern corner 20km away only to be sidetracked by the old Chickory farm. Another Deliverance moment. This nice, enthusiastic old lady showed us the local Koalas and the old Chicory works, which made the old Camp Coffee for those brought up after the sR when coffee was s luxury item and Camp was the thing. There was also about 60 years of scrap farm machinery laid around which appealed to me, being of farming stock. There were several Land Rover Mk 2's, Bedford TK's and a bus made on a Bedford chassis plus several crashed aircraft parts. Scrapyard heaven. Earlier we had also seen abandoned a 1930's Albion side valve truck in a sorry state. We eventually got away from her talking to be at the McCleod Eco Farm by 1pm, only to discover that Liz had left her phone on the bench whilst putting on her helmet. We decided to call on our way back only to see the old lady come towards us in her car with the said telephone. What an angel. This was very fortuitous because we were not in much condition later on to do any detours on more rough tracks. We had a great meal at the Eco Farm followed by a tour of the old jail closed in 1976. We are all the food produced on the farm, maize, eggs, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber,onions, celery, and lamb just to mention a few. The temperature had soared along the way and it was hitting 45 degrees in the sun and 38 in the shade as we took out jail tour. We were surprised how much cooler the jail buildings were but soon found out the difference when we set off again. Even though we had been fed and watered we struggled with the heat with little shade and found the return most gruelling along the wash board tracks. I had to stop several times to recover and ended can up ringing up the owner of the guest house to collect Sugan who gave in obviously still suffering from her fall. Carel also struggled so she came back on the Ute as well. If there had been space I may have been tempted as well. Very tough day for all of us and Don trailed in late suffering like all of us. After a shower and a lie down to recover we had another excellent meal, followed by guitars and beautiful singing by one of the staff ladies and an American guest. Philip Island here we come.

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Photos

Wooden cash register
McCleod Jail

Post box
Tankerton