I have a theory that women are held against their will in campsite amenity blocks. What, other than abduction would warrant an entire morning in a bathroom? So when Maria told me she was off for a shower I knew there was time to spare.
Maybe I'd grow a beard or read a play by Shakespeare?
Unable to find a novel in the Campervan I picked up a leaflet attached toi my new thermal underwear. I had purchased bottoms and top from the Mountain shop.
I'd heard about intelligent fabrics somewhere but this pair of "kegs" ought to be on Mastermind. Not only did they guarantee toasty parts, they, quote,
" pull perspiration away from the skin and disperse it across the fabric using negatively charged particles in an electrostatic process."
Well bugger me (as an Aussie might say) I had no idea pants had become so advanced. Saying that, never since purchasing Calvin Kleins modelled by Marky Mark Whalberg (not the actual ones) in the 1980s have I paid so much for "crackers."
My black, tight-fitting Colombia thermal top had similar claims. Zipped up, it resembled a neoprene wetsuit and was constructed from fabrics that NASA were still trying to obtain for the next space mission.
Over the4 top of these thermals I placed two T-shirts, a pair of thick cords, my Quicksilver fleece, beaney hat, hiking socks and boots and finally my new "Expedition-strength" Gore Tex Jacket.
Australia may have had its coldest spell for decades but I was no longer going to suffer.
I stepped from the Campervan just as Maria (finally) emerged from the amenity block.
"It's sooo hot today," she said, "It's bikini time at last," her face revealing delight.
I looked up at an azure sky devoid of clouds.
Warm sunlight had already transformed the lush hills surrounding Cairns into bright, gilt coloured frames.
It was the painting of Australia we'd waited for.......I was just in the wrong clothes.
