It hadn’t been easy. Looking for "Two Bob". So called because he was such an affable chap. Worth far more than one of his kind. Small matter of first locating the right van park. Town of Proserpine. Upriver from the Queensland coast.
I’d stopped at a small cafe on the main street. Had they heard of him, I enquired. No, the owner explained. But there was a site off to the left. Not too far. Next to the swimming pool. This jolted my memory. Claire and Wayne, the Aussie cyclists who’d suggested I look up "Two Bob", had mentioned this. Smiling, I thanked the proprietor and headed off.
Finding the site without too much difficulty, I’d asked enthusiastically at Reception if "Two Bob" was around. Blank looks. Quickly added I thought he ran the place. No. Definitely not the woman explained. But there was a permanent resident of that name. Glimmer of hope. Sure I was in the right place.
Found him later in the camp kitchen. Wanted to know why I’d not pitched my tent inside. Plenty of room. Had asked, I explained. But told I might be in the way. He laughed. Claire and Wayne had spent a week or two sleeping there, he replied.
