Hafentag in Bermagui

Bermagui is notorious for its harbor entrance. Very narrow and at low tide you still have 1m to the bottom in places with our draft of 2m. If there are also waves, things can get tight.

But we drive in during the tide when there is almost no wind and lie like we are on a duck pond.

Our attempt to go out to eat failed because there was simply nothing left at half past ten in the evening. No, we don't get a beer either, they are only allowed to sell alcohol in combination with food, which we don't get anymore.

So a can of lentils with wienerle was opened on the ship.
The next day, January 11th, we had a port day due to headwinds.

We have 4 cabins on board. One rear cabin for Kaspar, one for me. The large bow cabin for guests. And then amidships there is “THE 4TH CABIN!”
This is basically the basement. Whenever someone is looking for something and it says "in the 4th cabin", the horror is great. Everything you might need, have used or thought was too good to throw away is stored there. -Cellar stop.
And what do you do on a gray day? -Correct! Clean out the basement! A sweaty job until the early evening.

After yesterday's food fiasco, I decided to go looking for a place to eat at 7 p.m. At 7:30 p.m. K announced that he wanted to take a shower now. Those who know me know that I am not the most patient person. I slowly mutated into Frau Wehrwolf and growled to myself.

Then it wasn't the Italian in the harbor that did it, but the second restaurant in town (yes, the town has two restaurants) was the object of culinary desire. However, this turned out to be a completely overcrowded sports bar. There were huge screens all around showing different sporting events and everyone was trying to somehow communicate over the noise. I was out of there. Definitely too loud!

So back to the port. But the Italian.

The flock of cockatoos sitting in a large eucalyptus tree laughed at me. You saw us walking back and forth yesterday. - Mrs. Wehrwolf growled evilly at her.

It is now 8:30 p.m. I know we're out of lenses. With every step I take, K. seems to get slower. I sit in front of him at the Italian restaurant for 10 minutes. It's no use to me, I'm consistently ignored. Only when K. practically trips up the waitress is she ready to say that they are fully booked today and we won't get anything to eat.

So we went back all the way, there was a pizza take away on the way.

The cockatoos laugh again. If Ms. Wehrwolf had a chainsaw, she would get the boys down there. But she hasn't. But hungry. So continue.

Shortly before 9 p.m. we place our order. With the staff telling us we were the last customers for the day.

The pizza was good, Ms. Wehrwolf was full. It got a little chilly and she put on her sheep's wool sweater.