Day 65 Gunnedah, he came out of the door, with a grey beard; he was decorated with luminous orange safety clothes and a motorbike helmet on his head. In front of him was a very large motorbike, he sidled up to it, tried to throw his leg over and failed, he tried again and failed. I am thinking what's going on here; this is going to end in tears. Having the giggles hampered my attention, but somehow he managed to get on and was able to balance the bike by virtue of the fact that with his toes pointed downwards he was just able to reach the ground. Now he needed to start the bike, the keys where in left side pocket of his shirt, or at least he thought they were. Whilst precariously balancing the bike on tippy toes, he kept searching for the keys in his pocket, after a minute or so of failing to find the keys he decided they must be somewhere else. Several minutes later he found the keys, he started the bike, and edged off, his toes still dragging on the ground to maintain his balance, then he disappeared from the view of the coffee shop window. What made the whole scene even more surreal was that for the whole time a woman was holding up traffic in the main street of Gunnedah, waiting for him to go so she could have his parking spot.

You drive into Dunedoo and are confronted by a very long main street that only has buildings on one side of the road. No bank, not much at all, I had to ask where I could find an ATM. The caravan park was great; except that they have the hardest ground I have ever come across. I eventually was able to get my tent pegs into the ground but spent a fair bit of time the next day straightening them out.