Day 4 - Peninsular Hills

We thought there was a possibility that we may score a good early morning session at an isolated beachie up the peninsular, so we set up camp in the hills above last night.

It may have been from Hambo's dodgy cooking, or maybe the effect of sleeping directly above Silas' vile fart zone, but more than likely it was the sewage at St kilda that had got the best of Mikey. He had his head sticking out the top window of the camper and there was a stinky mess of chicken salad vomit on the ground below, and a few stray chunks on the drivers door handle.

The surf was looking junk, and there was a freezing cold misty fog surrounding us. Mikey isn't one to complain, and everyone feels for the poor little fella sitting there in the miserable conditions continuing to hurl.

Mikey not feeling the best