After the departure of our latest trailer guests, who came to chill out, and then complained of being ’slightly bored’, we took off this afternoon to the Churchill Island Working Horse Festival. The weather was completely sublime. The traffic was less so. But once I got over having to pay $16 each to get in, I began to recover. Churchill Island is surprisingly unspoilt, with a few historic cottages on it.

We thought that it would be a great place to sail to - we’ve sailed past, but have never pulled up and gone exploring. M bowled up to the Friends of Churchill Island information tent, and asked where would be best to pull in on a trailer sailer. They thought we’d asked could we pull in on a boat. The woman to whom M addressed his enquiry barely had time to compose her face into doubtful lines before another woman, reminiscent of an alpaca blared “No. NO. Oh no. I don’t think so.”

M and I stood and examined them all for signs of human life, found none, and walked away as they all laughed amongst themselves. So although they’re happy to put together the festival and hoick $16 out of each of the 4000 or so people visiting over Easter weekend, when it comes to answering questions, it’s all a little bit too hard. With friends like that, Churchill Island should hope for the best.

The food at the festival was less than inspiring. A highlight was a stall for my favourite brewery - flogging it off at $6 a stubby. The horses were amazing and huge! The donkeys were docile and large of ear. James Reyne and his special guest, Mark Seymour were actually great. But the BEST bit? The VINTAGE CARAVAN display!!!

There were teardrop vans, and other cool ones as well - no Sunliners like mine, which was a shame. It was fantastic to be able to go inside them and see how they had been restored. Some of them had photo albums of the restoration process, which was comforting. I had only ever seen proper vintage vans online over at vintagecaravans.com - a lot of them were all tricked out with the 1940s and 1950s cookware and ornaments.

We had dabbled with the idea of going around to the music festival at the Quarantine Station near Portsea, but the thought of doing the eight hour or so sail only six days after we’d done it last was just too tiring to consider. A grand day out was had regardless. I want a donkey.