June 26

(A recount of June 26)

Writing by candle light. Dad’s stolen the lamp and my Kindle light.

After a relatively good night sleep, I woke early and took some pitiful photos. I really suck at landscape and I think your knowledge and equipment has to be a lot better than mine to have a decent go at it. My photos never do the scenery justice.

I went back to bed after stoking the fire as everyone was still snoozing. Breakfast was completely edible – lovely surprise!

We lounged around while one of the guys we’re with rode a dodgy push bike (all day might I add). The hill behind the camp provides a spectacular vantage point. We huffed and puffed our way up. And the view was, as predicted, was beautiful. Perfect temperature. No wind. The contrasting colours of the blue lake and the bright green pine trees is something you have to see to believe. We just sat and enjoyed (and I took photos).

 

Lunch at 1pm – outside overlooking the lake – that holds 2% of of the world’s fresh water. It was a 3 course coleslaw, beetroot soup and main course meal. Me being the resident vego (by accident but I don’t regret it) got a delicious omelette.

At 2pm on the dot (unusual, I know!) our horses arrived and we mounted for our hour long adventure.We just poked along around the lake edge. My horse was a faster one so I was held in close quarters to the guide (as in, my knee rested in the guide’s knee and I have his horse’s dust engrained into my white pants). We all did very well and stopped on the way back to purchase dad a beer at the shop.

 

 

Would you like 2L of beer in a plastic bottle, or 1.6L of beer in a plastic bottle?

 

Dad chose the 1.6L bottle.

 

 

100m away a family had freshly killed a goat and were mid-way through butchering it when we arrived for a sticky beak. Dad checked – the goat was at least 6 years old so would have been pretty tough and stinky.

The men were butchering and the women were cleaning out the guts. Once the intestines were cleaned, they will fill them with blood, boil it and slice it and eat it like a sausage. They had a blow torch ready to burn the hair off the goat head so they could boil it and eat it too.

They were unbelievably friendly and were desperate for us to stay and eat with them. Dad showed them a tasty bit of meat he likes on the goat and they cut it out especially to cook it for him. Of course we were still with our guide and had to depart.

I always feel ever so horrible turning down offers like that. They’re genuinely so excited to share the experience with you, but you have to decline – or tell a white lie in order to get away. To me it feels like turning down a genuine Christmas lunch offer and I hate it every time. I’d love to sit there and enjoy it. And I would have eaten the stinky goat. I can stand the smell of stinky goat. But it’s often just impractical.

Agh. To put it in context: it would be like meeting some nice people camping at Moolarben, cooking them a massive roast and getting wine out, setting the table and then having them a. not arrive or b. turn up for two seconds  to say ‘no, sorry, but thanks anyway’.

That’s what it feels like to me anyway, and it’s what I imagine every time I reject or ignore an offer like that.

Post horse riding we had to nap. We were sleepy!

More reading, napping and admiring yak calves (it’s really weird being introduced to a totally domesticated animal that you know nothing about! It’s quite fun, actually. Dad is loving it!).

Dinner, shower (hot dribble shower), more reading. We tried to organise a fishing trip but with one rod and 3 people, actual fish are unlikely.