Postcard from Camp Could Be Nice.

deer Typis,

 mr O is helpin g me send you this pikture.   As you can see, i am ok.

  it is getting COLD. Tank goodness for my coat! 

Love, Georgia X

p.s. Too bad about yur Troubels  Sorry i haf NO time to chat. I have made frends.!!

Note from The Typist.

Apparently, I used up my all data allowance for the month in 8 days because I googled a few maps, made one post and visited some blogs. Hopefully I'll be able to top up soon, but it means I won't be able to read and comment on your blogs while I'm on the road. My apologies.

To be fair, don't worry about commenting on these posts from the road either. I'll just pretend I'm back in the old days, when we sent snail mail postcards on holidays and never expected to get a reply :)

Catch up with you when we get home. Till then, hope you're all well! X

Oh no! It's Sunday!

Dear everybody, 

I'm off to camp now! 

Here is my holiday bag. It is all packed and ready to go.

How stoopid does it look. It cost 2 dollars at the market. The Typist is very proud of her frugal purchase. It will be her fault if the other dogs at camp laugh at me.

Apparently, everything I need for my holiday is in the bag. I have serious doubts about this.

As far as I can see, there is a jammie, a raincoat, my flea treatment, dewormers, and a ridiculously long letter to Mr O, the camp commandant of Camp Could Be Nice, telling him stuff like how I like to eat a lot and sit on humans. 

"Did you forget my bikkies and treats, Typist? Surely that is something I will need on holiday?"

"What do you mean, I will just have to eat what the other dogs eat?"

The Typist says the most important part of  the ridiculously long letter that Mr O will probably never read  letter is Plan B which tells Mr O what to do with me if she and Cushion cop it while they're on holiday. In case you didn't know, The Typist is a worst case scenario type of human. 

So that's it! I will be away a month. I hope Mr O likes me! I hope I make some friends! Please don't forget me! I will try to be brave. Kissy boo and hooroo! Georgia X

I will miss my bed. 

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Last words from The Typist.

"Georgia! Come here baby. How about a cuddle before you go?!"

"No?"

"Okay then. Bye sweetie. Be good. Love you."

A short update on my trip to the gulag.

I don't know why The Typist worries about my diet so much.

Yesterday's yummy brekkie [rudely dragged from my throat by Cushion.]


It looks like I will be going to Camp Could Be Nice! I was going to show you pictures of the place, and the 2 short horsies and giant black pig that live there, but The Typist stuffed up and the piccies are gone.

Camp Could Be Nice is just like The Camp Commandant's place so I will be out in the paddock during the day with the other doggies. It looks cleaner though [important only to my humans] and I won't have to sleep in a cage at night. All us dogs get to sleep in a sheltered enclosed verandah right next to the house. 

And guess what I saw when I was there? 2 big containers of raw chicken carcasses! [excess fat removed]. I think I'm going to be okay. Don't you?
Are you guys sure there aren't any doggy holiday camps next to a beach?

Stoopid tourists and imaginary sheep.

After we [sadly] left the Byron hinterland, we stopped for the night at Port Macquarie where we stayed at a dog friendly motel. 

There were dogs everywhere. In the rooms to our left and right, upstairs and downstairs. We were allowed everywhere too, even the swimming pool area. But no one played outside because there was no where to play and no gates or fencing to keep us safe. 

I don't want to be overly harsh so I will give our motel 3 stars for friendliness, a nice room and the heart shaped liver bikkies I got on arrival. But no star at all for actually being set up for us dogs on holiday. Hey humans! we have requirements too you know! 

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There were many dog friendly beaches in Port Macquarie which was the one and only reason we decided to stop in this town. 

This is Nobby's Beach.

After Palm Beach, it was a bit of a let down.

We did however meet this dog, in a manner of speaking since he was too busy to say hello. 

Can you see him in the picture above?

You can see a video of him here, if you like. Be careful. He's a bit crazy.

I bet some of you know what he's doing. Personally, I think he needs to get his head checked by his Dr Dog and ASAP.

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The next morning, we got up bright and early and went to Lighthouse Beach. 

It was much nicer!

For some reason, Cushion decided I needed to get comfortable with surf. Why, I ask you? WHY do I need to do that? I live in suburbia for heaven's sake! What are the chances of me ever being taken to Hawaii and needing to know how to surf?

There is no understanding humans. But I love My Cushion dearly so I dutifully followed him out into the water.

"You want me to stay here with you, give me a treat first."

"Wave coming! Wave coming!"

"See, you silly man? Now your shorts are all wet! And for what?"

"Completely incomprehensible."

After Lighthouse Beach, we started our journey home. Because we were in a rush to beat the holiday traffic, I missed seeing a camel. 

Bummer.

However! If you click on the videos below, you will see me meeting some other local fauna at the very start of our holiday! 





It was the first time I've ever met these strange creatures. I think I handled myself admirably, don't you?

The Typist wants to tell you how I got chased out of Uncle E's shed by a fluffy white cat and was too scared to go up to a chicken that came into the yard but this is my blog and I'm not going to let her tell you lies like that.

And that sums up my Christmas and New Year road trip. Thank you so much for coming on holiday with us! We really enjoyed your company and hope you had a good time too!

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HOW TO GET TO LIGHTHOUSE AND NOBBY'S:

View Larger Map

NOTE! Only part of Lighthouse Beach is off-leash. Want to find out specifics and other dog friendly areas in Port Macquarie? CLICK HERE.

A bush walk and Smurf's house.

This is the little cabin where we stayed on Tuesday and Wednesday night. 

It was very restful there and apart from the hum screech chatter of cicadas crickets birds mozzies and the 1000 froggies in the pond down the slope, it was super quiet.

I wish we could have stayed longer.

For some reason, since we were in the middle of nowhere, Cushion thought he could just open the door and say, "Go on, Georgia, go walk. Go toilet!" But of course, I wasn't silly and didn't wander too far on my own. I remembered what Ms Jean said and I didn't want to get lost. 

Besides, there were scary animals outside. 

You can laugh but these brush turkeys had beaks.

"You in the tree!"

"Stop staring at me, please."

We found a lovely bush trail nearby.

Can anyone tell us what these plants below are? 

They looked similar to pawpaw trees and were about the same height as well, but the fruit were smaller. No one was game to try them. It was too beautiful a day to get crook.

Suddenly! we saw this shack up ahead! 

 It was the cutest thing ever! I couldn't resist being a sticky beak exploring it as any curious dog would.

The manure was very tasty! 

I would have eaten a whole lot more if The Typist hadn't started screaming.

We thought this could be a nursery, the place where the humans who owned our cabin grew their vegetables, herbs and fruit.

 My favourite fruit in all the world wasn't ripe yet, which was unfortunate. 

[Not that I would have stolen it or anything.]

We really liked this little shack! I could see my humans getting starry-eyed. My guess is they probably saw themselves living like this, in the middle of nowhere, growing their own stuff and living off the land and rainwater.

BWAH haha!

It didn't take them long to realise there were mozzies biting them, it was very hot, there was no airconditioning, probably no cable telly either, oh! how about flush toilets? and it was a bit far from any decent looking patisserie.

This did not look like a Nespresso machine.

Anyway, after snooping wandering around for a good 10 minutes, it was time to go back to our cabin. Which is, of course, where I dramatically collapsed and was rescued from death's door by being unceremoniously splashed with 7 pots of cold water. Yes, Ms Rose, I think it was 7.

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On the way back to the cabin, we met a man who told us a dwarf named Smurf lived at the shack.

A. dwarf. named. Smurf.

My goodness! How I wish we'd met him! My humans were quite mortified that they had so rudely trampled all over his little house. 

I wonder if Smurf was inside the whole time, keeping very quiet and wondering how on earth his hideaway had become a tourist attraction. 

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Here's a special treat for you! It was a bit hard to capture and is quite soft, so please turn up the volume. I hope you like it!

Any guesses what it might be?