Pichi Richi

A terrible night with gale-force gusts. and angry barrages of rain drops, as hard as hail. Many ominous creaks and pole rattles. I lay in bed trying to plan my escape route or protective move (roll on top of Coralie?) in case of collapse. But, we woke to sunshine! Unfortunately the battery had gone down overnight with the water pump accidentally being left on somehow. And the car driver door had been left open 😬

Plans to go for a walk foiled by afternoon onset of wind and rain. So after cosying up in Detective Jay Swan for a bit we set off for local burg Quorn for a pub hang. Classic old school Transcontinental Hotel with patterned, threadbare carpets, a squeezy front bar with locals looking you up and down as you walk in, a members board, footy paraphernalia, plastic flowers and lace curtains. We set up in the dining room for card games and then a dinner of King George Whiting (SA specialty, Alex assured us).