Shakedown trip, to the Spin-In at Bothwell

We took delivery of our lovely new motorhome, now tentatively named Wanda, on Friday, so of course on Saturday we had to take her for a run! It took all of Saturday morning to prepare her and to pack what we thought we'd need for her first trip, including our electric bikes - isn't she beautiful?!

Yes, well, this picture lasted until we backed Wanda out onto the road, and the road connected with the bike rack!  Straight back into the carport, and the bikes came off.  Obviously we needed to do something with the towbar, but what?

Friendly Peter at Kings Caravans had the simple answer:  turn the towbar attachment over, so it bends upwards instead of downwards - of course!

Our destination was Bothwell, where the 35th reunion of the biennial International Highlander Spin-In and Fibre Festival was happening.  I'd always been interested in going to this festival, as I used to spin pure fleeces into jumpers a long time ago (i.e. before Sam came along and my quiet spare time disappeared), but had never managed to get there.

We felt like king and queen of the road, sitting up high in our bright and shiny new van, with great views of the road and the sights, and attracting looks of wonder and appreciation :-).  It was a pleasurable easy drive to the historical town of Bothwell (established 1822), with beautiful weather and quiet roads.  On arrival we thought we'd secure a spot in the local caravan park before investigating the show.  Sadly the park, located in the centre of town, was underwhelming, comprising some powered spots on a dry and dusty carpark, and unpowered sites crowded into a grassy paddock.  We preferred a powered spot today as we were keen to test out our 240V connection.  There was no office on site, and it turned out you had to book a site through the service station down the road.  The heritage garage doubled as the local centre for the Sporting Shooters Association, and the walls were adorned with magnificently mounted deer.  When the shop assistant decided to ask us what we wanted, we found out that all the powered spots had been booked by more organised travellers who were in town for the festival.  So we decided we may as well seek a more attractive location outside the town.

Before the festival finished for the day we were in time to admire some fantastic sheepdogs carefully manoevring frankly stupid sheep through gates and up ramps in the sheepdog trials.  One dog scored 38 points, the next 83!  The range of washed, carded, dyed, felted, knitted and spun wools on display was fabulous.  There were spinners, weavers, lacemakers, dyers and papermakers from all over the world.  Flax weavers from New Zealand were making fine bags and cloaks, weaving Weka feathers into them.  A contingent from Japan were demonstrating superb weaving and dying.  The First Prize winning spinner had created an astounding continuous 670m length of fine yarn from 10g of pure fleece!!!

We drove west towards the Great Lakes in search of a pretty camping spot, and decided to try Arthur's Lake.  At the first turnoff to the Lake there was a little sign saying that there was a caravan park 1.5km north at Pumphouse Bay.  Of course that was too easy, we had to investigate what was on offer down this road (Wilburville, ugly roads, lots of shacks but no welcoming signs) before we returned and headed north to Pumphouse Bay.

It was a good sign when we found that the road to Pumphouse Bay was quiet and pretty.

 The caravan park is quite old and seems to be well managed by the Hydro Electric Commission.

The site manager was a friendly chap, who extracted the princely sum of $8 for one night's stay. It would have been even cheaper if we'd had a pensioner concession!!

We found a nice grassed spot at the quiet end of the park, with an outlook straight onto the bush, and with glimpses of the lake in the background.  Who could ask for more?

Our fellow residents were clearly avid and capable DIYers, with every caravan set up differently.  People were cordial,  and respected others' quiet times and privacy.  Hopefully this will be the norm in our future travels.

Taking an evening stroll along the lake's edge, we found out that these are the native fish that you are NOT allowed to catch here:

and these are the introduced Brown Trout that you ARE allowed to catch:

There were several fishing boats having a go.

We enjoyed our first night in Wanda.  We worked out how lots of the equipment worked, and what was missing (like the coaxial cable for the TV), and made lists of  things to be installed or packed before the next outing.

Next morning I noticed that our neighbours, a pair of French cycle tourers, were having difficulty pumping up a flat tyre.  I tried out my basic French and offered the use of our sturdy pompe a velo, which they were very grateful for.  They had come from the north the day before (tres dur), and were heading towards Maydena now.

Our second day at the Spin-In, we enjoyed the Show and Tell.  Jenny was doing amazing things using natural substances like gum leaves in dying:

After watching some more sheepdog trials, we headed back south.  Also on this weekend was a wineries open day in the Coal River Valley, and so we popped into Pressing Matters to try some excellent riesling and pinot noir.  With more stocks carefully loaded into Wanda's "garage", it was time to find lunch.  Meadowbank was booked out, so we headed back into town.  Our fantastic first outing in Wanda came to a fitting end as we enjoyed the best fish and chips in Australia at Fish Frenzy, feeling like pampered and  carefree tourists in our own home State.