A Bandon Carpark

   We made our way further North along the 101, following advice from our bearded pipe ploving friends that Bandon is a nice town to stop at. We pulled in to the towns information centre car park and stepped inside to check what was about. With a vast array of maps and guides slotted along the walls we began perusing. A gentleman came from behind a desk and offered a greeting and if we needed any help. We stroke up a conversation about what we were doing and he became excited. "That's the best way to travel," he says to us. "Can I offer you some suggestions?" he asks. We respond as though we were tourists seeking information and had come to a facility that advertised its intentions. "My recommendation is hotel carparks." He informs us as though this was clearly, the difinitive answer we were seeking when arriving in Bandon. We offer him a nodding yet slightly curious response. Enough for him to continue, "You see, regular car parks always have the same kind of vehicles and its easy for the law man to pick you out and knock on your window. However, hotel car parks always have changing vehicles because of the tourists. So they don't know which car is regular or not."
"Ahhhh... we understand." We tell him, finally clicking onto the fact he was offering us advice about staying in our van rather than advice for what to do in Bandon.
He makes his way to a window and turns to us while pointing out the window, "See that motel over there?" he asks us. We can see a motel up on a hill. "I stayed in my car in that motel carpark for almost a month when I first came here." He nods to us as though he offers us his secret. We respond by saying we hadn't considered that option but are very grateful to him for revealing this to us. We weren't sure whether he still remained in his car somewhere else, nor were we going to pry, so we kindly thanked him for his time and made our exit.

   As it happened, Bandon had a lot of good things going for it. There was a creative gallery called 'Washed Ashore' that had volunteers collecting rubbish along the shoreline. They then sculpted the materials into different creatures and put on display. An interesting story was of a cargo ship that tipped over in the early 1990s spilling hundreds of thousands of small bathroom floating duck toys. Over the months, then years, these toys made their way around the entire world across all of the ocean currents. A shameful lesson on plastic and wastage in our world.
Continuing our stroll in Bandon we came across a Sunday market, walking between small stalls a gentleman selling his oddities asked me if I was from Zurich. At the time I was wearing my Melbourne Demons top with sponsors. Alas, I informed him I was not from Zurich but the badge on the left which says, Melbourne. I also offered 'Australia'.
"Ahh, Australia." He says, "I have a daughter in law in Australia." Acting surprised I ask him if he knows where in Australia. "No, my geography isn't too good." I tell him that is okay and acknowledge our connection before moving along.
   A little further along another man is selling a variety of stones which has caught our eye. He approaches and asks if we are interested. We tell him they look very nice, he picks up on our accent and asks where we are from, as we tell him he replies, "Good opals in Australia." He is from Madagascar, he shows us some photos of what appears to be local people in Madagascar. He says he has been working with locals to develop clean sewage. We could only take his word for it as he continues to tell us the rocks he purchases from the miners. As we weren't immediately walking away he then tells us he is familiar with the sharks we have in Australia and asks if we would like to see a shark that he caught this morning. Both of us weren't entirely sure what he meant by this and before we could reply he takes his phone from his pocket and begins to scroll through photos. He comes across a photo of a medium sized shark that may have beached itself on the sand. The second photo is of the gentleman holding the shark up. We acknowledged his photo and thanked him for his time. We continued walking.
   As we made our way out of the market we stopped at a final store to buy some fish we could use for dinner. Jamie took the honours of selecting the type and size and did a far better job than Ian with his salmon. Delicious Cod for only $7, perfect. Reconvening at the van we plotted a quick grocery stop to top up the important supplies of; wasabi peas, baby wipes and tinned beans.
   That afternoon we drove inland to seek out another camping place. A winding road across streams. along crumbled rock falls and between over hanging trees. Each time we found a place, we'd say, 'Just a little further.' Enough times that we came across a quiet section, a babbling brook just for us. With some exploring we discovered this was a well inhabited stream. There were salamanders, small lobsters, plenty of fish, fewer mozzies and birds about.
We explored, relaxed and prepared dinner, fish tacos.
   In the morning, banana and maple syrup pancakes filled us up. Another slow winding road we departed for Eugene. After some googling we learnt of an award winning craft beer spot called Bier Stein, which is where we pulled up stumps for the afternoon.