Worlds apart from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Slab of tired looking concrete. Up by what’d been described as bungalows. Shabby chalets. Like the rest of the caravan park, worn. My potential pitch far from the facilities. Children’s toys, discarded possessions, broken furniture. Dotted around the units. Their occupants taking bit too much of an interest in my arrival. A camp kitchen that’d be locked up within the hour. Telling.
Five minutes later I’d returned to the first site I’d found in the small town of Sarina. There wasn’t a kitchen as such. Just a sheltered seating area. Judy had been very upfront about that. Nor was it cheap. Which is what’d had me venturing off to check out the other park. But it was immaculate. Cared for. Grass verging on manicured. Judy and Dennis proud owners. Theirs the nicest slab of concrete I’d pitched on. And they even chucked in a towel for me.
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