The long and winding road

The Pacific Highway.  Where to start this Odyssey?  In our case, at the Ewingsdale junction ~ the scene of many bus trips to Bluesfest this past week.

Relax, enjoy the journey, look at the lush vegetation.  You've got all afternoon and Port Macquarie is not too far down the coast.  Half an hour into the trip we encounter our first patch of roadwork near Wardell.  80 Ahead......  60.......  40.......  Where are the roadworks?.  Well, there's a bloke in a fluro vest over there draining the sump of a council truck.  60......  80.......  End of roadwork.  "Look there,  there's dual-lanes up ahead."  "The 80kph limit should finish soon."  Nope!  For the next 30 minutes we drove at 80kph on a modern NSW dual lane highway until the next bit of road-work just past Woodburn.  Slow down, Roadworks ~ Speed Limits Will Be Enforced.  60........ 40.........

It appears the NSW Minister for Transport got a load of speed signs for Christmas and boy! Was he going to share that gift with us.  Frequent signs notified drivers that Speed-T-Cams were Managing Speed and Fatigue.  Now that's just overkill!.  Minister Duncan Gay's festive gift has responsible road use under control.  80.......  60.......  40.........

"I'm getting hungry and tired, let's stop at Grafton, maybe pubs are still serving a late lunch."  It's remarkable how memories of difficult traffic conditions come flooding back once confronted by them.  "Shit!, There's that terrible roundabout in South Grafton that we sat at 2 years ago".  A quick U-turn and we were back at the T-Junction with the Pacific Highway we had gingerly coped with a minute before.  Vehicles came and went from left and right.  Minutes passed.  Finally a gap appeared ~ Coff's Harbour, here we come.

"Urunga welcomes careful drivers."  Turn right for the town centre.  The Pacific Highway was chokers through Coff's and not even the offer of "Authentic Tapas" at initially the Toreador, and then at the Matador motels could entice us from the highway of destiny.  What's another 30 kilometres at this stage.  Urunga was an oasis with the town centre accessed by a secondary road that lead under a bridge, up a hill and around the bend.  We parked the car in a fifteen minute limit space and walked towards the enticing sign "Fish and Chips".  Closed.  The cafe next door was in a similar state of preparedness, and I was only cheered by a fluro clad tradie wrapping his laughing gear around a juicy burger.  We walked along the street towards a posse of school kids bunched about a shop entrance.  Inside an old farmer in moleskins and an Akubra was ordering a coffee.  "....and could you put a piece of chocolate in it like last time please Doris."  "Sure love, I know what you like."  "What's that? You know I don't hear too well anymore."  " One coffee with chocolate coming up".  Doris yelled.  "Righto, thanks.  I'll be outside."

"What will you folks have then?".  "One snapper and chips, and one flathead and chips please."  "Oh, and I will have a Solo and Kim will have a Schweppes lemon, lime and bitters thanks."  "I'll just go and get the car and bring it up here, I don't want to get booked."  Was that a faint chuckle from Doris?
"Have you travelled far yet?"  "Yes, We have just been to the Byron Bay Bluesfest and are headed for Port."  "Oh well, that's not too far now.  I heard you had a bit of rain."  "Yes, lucky I took my gumboots, my son found them very useful."  Chuckle.  Following Doris' directions towards the facilities and lakeside park, we hopped in the car and did a U-ie.  If Urunga needs a new mayor, I know just the person.

Parked opposite the beautifully presented Ocean View Hotel est 1927, we took our food down to a shaded picnic table located next to the camping ground.  Top shelf tents replete with banks of solar panels were parked just near sparkling 4 wheel drives sporting fishing rods.  Another bunch of kids nearby were doing their best to scare away any fish they were attempting to catch.  An increasing flock of Ibis were greedily circling our table.  Yum!  I'll bet Doris comes from a long line of fish and chip shop operators.  My flathead was delicious!.