Cousteau and I headed off this morning for the lengthy drive up to Picton. The 400 and something kilometres took us considerably longer than anticipated.

Cousteau was an angel even though he overheated quite a lot. We had to stop periodically to get him out of the car and watered.

Campervans drove as slowly as they could (though I can hardly complain. Compared to driving as I remember it in the UK, it was a dream!)

I stopped for a lovely (and quite leisurely) lunch where Cousteau gave a teeny little girl a pony ride.

By the time we neared 5.15 and the picking up time for the folks from the ferry, we weren't actually as near to Picton as I would have liked.

Still, the ferry was a little late and the disembarking a little slow so Cousteau and I ended up not being late in the end.

Parents successfully loaded into the car, we went to the Holiday Camp which was to be our home for the night.

These ducklings and little girls were loitering around outside the cabin. Peace and bread feeding ensued until Cousteau decided that he'd not had enough attention for a wee while and he barked, scattering children and ducklings alike.

Limpy is the black one closest to the children. S/he only had one leg but seemed to get along just fine.

Fish and chips on the front and then off to bed.

All right night despite Cousteau alerting us of late arrivals to the campground at 2 am.

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