Port Lincoln at last Day 84 Thursday 28th June 2018

Today was the first morning it felt really cold, by the time everything was all packed up fingers were numb!

Out of Coffin Bay there is a nice sealed road with a good shoulder, very quickly we were riding through farmland and at 14 km it rejoins the Flinders Highway.

Who can resist a picture of non native animals

Along the highway the traffic steadily increased as we neared Port Lincoln, it has been Albany since this many cars and commercial vehicles. It is off season now so fewer tourists and no grain being harvested so no road trains (apart from the inevitable fuel transporters).

Hilly hilly hilly

Not far from Port Lincoln there was a left turn on the old Flinders Highway or continue to West Port Lincoln, we chose the old road. This proved to be quite quiet but it did cost, a lot of up. The Garmin said 216 m high.

View from close to Winter Hill lookout down the coast

View of Port Lincoln from Winter Hill, from here grain is exported around 2000 tonnes a time (hence the million tonne silo storage)

At the top there were good views along the coast and down into Port Lincoln. The down was very short and steep, over in a blink of your watery eye.

The highway finished on Tasman Terrance one of the two main shopping streets in town, this one ran along the sea front. We cycled down this arriving at the post office where I collected some business cards ordered front Vista Print, you can easily get fed up / have no pen / have no paper/ forget to give out the blog address when you talk to people about our travels this will help.

Outside the post office trying not to look cold

Also Peter had arranged to meet us here, a quick call and like a flash he was here cycling 1 km from his home. Following him back was a slow flash and we were there at their lovely home, Lana was there to greeting us with a smile.

After sorting out our things and looking longingly at the real bed (Albany around 6 weeks ago was the last time we slept in a bed), we chatted a while then Peter gave us a lift into town where we had a general look around before walking back.

Lana and Peter invited us to eat with them (we did get a little wine to go with the meal), a very nice honeyed chicken with a chocolate pudding (not together just in case you were concerned).

Then we sat a while chatted further, saw Germany’s grief stricken players depart from the world cup then went to a lovely sleep, way past our usual bed time.

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