Never mud wrestle with a pig! You will both get covered in shit but the pig will enjoy it.
This mantra generally applies when dealing with imbeciles. Sadly, I have to accept the imbecile sticker for this one.
Having stayed at Tablelands previously, we thought we were booked into the same spot. Sadly not. We were ushered towards a mud pit down a nasty looking road, no thank you! Option 2 was pretty level, albeit on some pretty spongy turf. Turns out that pretty spongy turf and 4.5 tonnes of front wheel drive Fergie are a bad mix. Zero traction, fucked with a capital F. Tried bunging a few planks of wood under the front wheels to give them some traction, a handful of matchsticks would probably have been more use. The campsite owner pops over with a couple of fairly hardcore traction track thingys together with some local bush lad with a shovel.
Long story short, the local bush lad/shovel/track thingy combo did the trick and I scampered to safety.
Morals to the story!
1. When in doubt, fuck off and park somewhere else.
2. When ‘A Bloke from the bush’ offers help. He probably knows what he is up to in this sort of situation. I headed off to the local for a slab of thank you. His words when I get back, “You don’t need to do this mate, it’s just what I do” Bloody oath mate. Beers, respect and heartfelt thanks from us both. Beautiful human.
Off for some yoga and spa treatments in Palm Cove in the morning