I continued on to Launceston, keen to shower, but not optimistic of my chances before meeting Bob at the Airport. At Cataract Gorge I paid for an hour's parking, and hopelessly overdressed in long (black) pants, shoes & socks (black) - you get the picture - went for a walk. When on the famous suspension bridge, I spied the swimming area and figured that there was likely to be some sort of showering facilities. I walked on for three or 4 kilometres before returning to the car. In the meantime, Bob had rung from Melbourne airport to advise that he wouldn't be landing until 2:25pm. I gathered things together and, very sweaty by now, headed down to the individual combined shower/toilet. Wìth only a button to operate the shower, I braced myself for water of an unknown temperature to come gushing forth. It certainly wasn't hot . . . But nor was it cold. In my hot, sticky state, it was divine.

I didn’t have another coffee at the gardens, despsite the lovely setting, so that Bob and I could have one together when he arrived. It wasn’t until I got to the airport that I realised that I was a bit hungry, and the airport cafeteria was as uninspiring as one expected. I just felt like something fresh and cold, perhaps a salad sandwich, or certainly a cold drink! However as I am now restricting my caffeine intake, and carbonated beverages are not great for me since the operation (cue the Ansett theme from the 1970’s “Up, up and away . . .”) the options were limited to . . . nil.

Bob was on time, and we hit the road south, keeping our eyes open for cute little villages for coffee or to stay overnight. We rang our accommodation in Hobart to see if we could extend our stay to four nights from Thursday, however they were booked out. We stopped at Cambelltown for a coffee at a reasonable looking café, and realised that the village we were looking for was Ross off the highway only a short distance away.