Dawdling in Dubbo

I have misjudged the distance and arrive much too early to access my prebooked accommodation. One of the frustrations of seeking out the attractions in larger more populated towns is that I have no sense of how directions couched in the cardinal terminology, North, South, East and West translate into actions. The paper maps I have are not detailed enough to assist, signage to attractions is poor, road signage generally has large gaps in the back blocks, and in heavier traffic and more demanding driving conditions I often miss the correct lane or roundabout turn. Finding my hotels has been an adventure in itself.

I am however assisted by the spirit of my father who loved driving and managed to find his way in uncertain territory with uncanny accuracy. My sister and I both seem to have inherited the path finding gene which just as despair strikes places us at the gates of our desired destination.

In this case it was the Western Plains Zoo where I spent fruitful hours gazing at the zebras and giraffes whose hides really are graphically splendid, and all manner of deer, antelope, elands and Przewalski horses. The rhino and all the cats were pacing backwards, and forwards restlessly and unceasingly and I wondered why. The elephants lined up and moved in convoy out of their enclosure just as I arrived. Keepers then moved in to distribute objects around the enclosure to stimulate these highly intelligent leviathans. It is a very pleasant setting, however like so many places on this journey, its food services were minimal, and it felt a little unloved.

In addition to being unable to use cardinal directions, I have an inability to put air into the tyres of my car with any degree of confidence. I have been able to short-circuit this failing in my hometown by using the services of the only full driveway service station in Australia which was fortuitously located at the end of my road. In the week before departure, I went to the service station only to find that it had closed down. My unchecked tyres have been a niggle in the back of my mind across the country and today, the front drivers side looks flat.

A google search advises me that Tyre power agencies provide free air checks, so I locate the local provider who with delightful courtesy makes light of my embarrassed explanation as to why I am there and checks my tyres, all of which are flat. Even more delightfully he says that most service station air gauges are incorrect and that I have done the right thing seeking professional assistance. More power to young men who are non-patronisingly kind.