With only a little over an hour’s drive left, I spent some more time smelling the roses.
By a miracle named Google, I then found my way to Maroochydore Beach, where I was one of several hundred people on the beach. At 7.30 a.m. It would have been rude not to have gone for a swim. I waddled in, but played it very safe on the unfamiliar beach.
After breakfast, I drove all of two minutes up the road for a perfect coffee, and settled down to peacefully scratching away on this machine.
Again paying manic attention to Google, I bulls-eyed my target, arriving at the arranged Jucy van drop-off with 15 minutes to spare.
I woke the attendant , and handed over the keys. He asked, so I whined a little about uncooperative doors and curtains and such.
And then it was over. I’d traveled more than 2000 km in 6 days. I was ragged, a little unwashed, slightly dazed, but in one piece.
And it was time to return, to life in the ‘burbs, to a comfortable bed, to being indoors, to working, and to talking to people.