Seemed there had been a number of break-ins at the camp site. Communal fridge and the coin drawer for the tumble dryer rather than vans or tents. No particular pattern. No obvious suspects. I felt sorry for the permanent residents. For this was their home. Theft of this sort akin to burglary. Expressed my particular revulsion of such behaviour. Dishonesty a pet hate. Steal from me and you’ll find your membership of the human race revoked. Think I’ve always been particularly clear on this point.
I’d arrived the previous night. Town of Gympie. Found the site without difficulty. But left the next day a bit confused. There’d been a friendly greeting, decent pitch, reasonable charge, even loan of a towel. But, when I’d popped back to Reception a little later, a frosty encounter. Was there WiFi I’d asked? No. Bluntly. Actually there was. Netbook detects them. Next morning. Same person. Helpful. Maps for the day ahead. Mixed messages.
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