Stories from the West 3 - Windscreens to Go

It didn't start today either. We drove south to a spot Andrea promised was renowned for wildlife and wildflowers and walked for an hour through nondescript scrub; past one big roo asleep under a tree, a couple of ducks and a bunch of cormorants (a flap of cormorants? a clothesline of cormorants?).
   Uninspired we drove south through some passably nice country - wetlands, forests, rolling dairy country. We by-passed Busselton and set our Tomtom for Dunsborough. It had a nice ring to it and it might have been on the coast. Wrong. It was shit. One of the worst caravan parks ever. 

     The place was wall to wall permanent caravan sites, every one onf them vying to be uglier than their neighbour and all of them empty. It was a ghost town and we were the only residents. And then I backed the campervan into the only tree in the park and listened to the sound of the rear window go pop!
    The windscreen people said: 'we can fit you in next Tuesday (today was Wednesday)' 'We were hoping to be in Albany by then,' I said. I heard her pause and I knew she was softening - 'What about Friday? ' she said. 'Jesus!' She heard me. 'I'm sorry, we have to order that rear window in from Perth.' Silence from me. ' Well I don't have an option' I guess ' I said. 'We're sleeping in the vehicle you see and the weater is predicted to get bad again ............' And a voice from the distance said 'Tell em to bring it in last thing today and we'll fit it in.'
   Helleluya. My belief in a divine being was vindicated.