I am blogging to you from a little hotel with a huge amount of bling, as in Las Vegas amounts of bling. The sheets on our 4-poster bed are louder than my shirts. The bed has more frills and pink ribbon than the Dick of the Day tutu. Our bathroom has a nine-way stainless-steel shower mixer, and a hole-in-the-floor toilet.

Our hotel boasts a restaurant. So after days of bush camping, we’re splashing out on dinner tonight. My menu choices are chicken, fish or goat. I’ve gone with fish, because you can’t hear fish scream when the chef runs faster than them. I have so gone off chicken, especially the sounds they make when the chef catches them and am so thankful no one ordered goat. If there’d been a vegan option on the menu, I’d have gone vegan.