I like to daydream about my dream place to live.

Often it’s right after I’ve just been daydreaming about winning the Lottery.

You sort of need to fantasize about winning shitloads of cash when your dream place is on an island, with a lake and a river and mountains and trees and a surf beach and has dolphins. But not sharks. Or other people. Especially scientologists.

On the scenic drive to go camping in the middle of nowhere, I sort of got excited because the location had some of the above.
But that was before I discovered the area is a hangout for the Mongrel Mob.

Some of their members were working at the campground we stayed at. And when a patched Mongrel Mob member driving a tractor asks you if you’d like a big, smelly rubbish drum located right outside the front of your tent, you don’t tend to say “No”.
Well, OK, so I did, but he just ignored me.

And those Mongrel Mob members that weren’t “working” for the campground seemed to spend their time hanging out at the campground’s mineral hot pools, while showing off their tattoos. Or hanging out at the tavern that was located right next to the campground. Or getting into brawls with each other in the campground.

And For Fuck’s Sake, why did the other couple with us have to tell their 3-year-old son that there were Mongrel Mob members everywhere? Cos then every brown-skinned person that he saw after that was a top-of-his-voice “Mongrel Mob member”. Which is not a nice thing, especially if the person being pointed out actually is a Mongrel Mob member. And is in earshot.

It put me on edge, because the last thing I needed was to have to deal with shitbag gangmembers. Again.

Cos, let me tell you, it’s hard disposing of their remains.
You have to bury gang members at least 2 meters deep or else their zombie corpses can claw their way free.
And that’s a lot of digging.

Anyway.

Even though I don’t think we’ll be going back there again, it was still an OK long weekend.

It didn’t rain the whole time.

See.

But it did the day we were meant to leave. Hard.
And we had a puncture to deal with first.

Caption: Fuck!

If we’d left after dinner the night before like I’d suggested (after we learned there was a heavy rain warning for the area) we would have probably said that the weekend’s weather wasn’t all that bad, all things considered. But then that would have ruined all my Told You So fun.

On the positive side, I got soooo drenched striking the tent that I now have enough points to get my full diving certificate. Bonus.

More views from my tent:

I kept telling myself I was going to climb to the top of that hill. But then I’d sober up.

I can’t work out whether it’s me or the goat that’s drunk in that last one.