Sunday, December 30, 2012
I find myself ensconced in Narrawallee, a holiday community somewhere on the South Coast of NSW, between Ulladulla and Milton for those who know these parts.
I hate the South Coast! I have never been a fan of sun, sand and salt water and as I get older and into middle age I am finding my patience is limited when it comes to putting up with the hordes who descend on this part of the world at this time of the year. There are literally people everywhere!
A good friend of Linda’s owns the holiday house in which we are accommodated and she has rented it for a few days. It really isn’t much more than a three bedroom shack but it has everything one may want or need for an idyllic get away down the coast. If you like this sort of thing!
Linda brought her mother down on Boxing Day and I brought Megan down yesterday in my Proton Jumbuck, the first real road trip for the little Malaysian four cylinder ute in the four years that I have owned her and I must say I was pleased with her performance.
I wasn’t very fussed about coming but Linda was keen for me to make the effort and I suppose it never hurts to occasionally do things which you aren’t very interested in doing so here I am.
I left yesterday about 12.30pm, not long after Megan returned from her father’s place where she had been enjoying the hospitality of her “other” family.
I’m not exactly sure how she feels about going there. She has scaled back her visits in recent times but seems happy enough staying over on the rare occasions she goes.
Even her step-mother who I have never met and only know through reputation as a “stuck-up bimbo” was apparently nice to her, not a frequent occurrence as hard experience tells me that she is more often than not rude and ignorant to Linda’s girls when they are in her company. She even drove Megan to work on one occasion, from Jerrabomberra to Tuggeranong Hyperdome! Sort of makes you wonder what she is up to.
In a few weeks Linda’s eldest daughter is holding an engagement party and we will be face to face with the”other’ family and all of Linda’s old in-laws so that will I daresay be a fascinating evening. Yet another occasion of which I am not keen attending but really have a duty to go to and wouldn’t miss.
Nevertheless, Megan made it back by midday and we were on our way half an hour later.
The journey began very inauspiciously when, barely out of the Tuggeranong Valley, turning right off Yamba Drive into Long Gully Road, a car accident occurred almost right in front of us. The cars coming towards us had obviously received the amber light but one car, a people mover, had seemingly made a decision to go through but at the last minute changed it’s mind and slammed on the anchors and obeyed the signal. The fellow behind in a Mazda 3 or some such similar vehicle was hard on the bumper of the people mover and obviously had great confidence that the former would in fact keep going through the lights. Bad decision!
There was an ominous screaming of heavily applied brakes combined with the sound of rubber sliding on asphalt followed by the sickening crash of metal colliding hard with metal.
The lights soon turned green for us and we were on our way leaving the mess behind to be sorted out by others.
We traversed the road to Queanbeyan, taking the back way through Karabar to avoid the lights and action in the main street and were soon confronted by more reckless driving.
A p-plater in a Rav4 was swerving from side to side while being perilously close to a car directly in front and for a moment I thought we were witnessing another accident but it was merely a young driver being a fool. Not long after that incident an elderly driver turned in front of me and I was glad to get out of Canberra and it’s surrounds before some other imbecile decided to throw their web of stupidity around us.
The road to the coast from Canberra is, as anyone who has travelled it would know, a particularly hazardous piece of engineering made all the more perilous at this time of year by the large numbers of people travelling on it.
I am always amazed by those who seem to think their reaction times are far superior to the rest of us mortals and drive as close to your rear end as they possibly can, safe in the knowledge their super human driving skills will enable them to stop without putting them in the front seat with you when and if you make a mistake and come to a sudden halt.
There were of course several of these sorts of super beings on the road to Batemans Bay yesterday, having a good look at the back of my Proton and the tail guards of others who were unfortunate enough to get stuck in a line of traffic with them close at hand.
Drivers and their cars are funny things. Many seem to think they are the heir to Juan Fangio and drive accordingly despite the constant exhortations of the police at this time of year requesting drivers to be patient on the roads.
For every accident there should be ten more. There but for the grace of God go I.
Finally, we got down off the Clyde Mountain despite being pressured by several drivers who seemed to think they were coming off the mountain at Bathurst in October rather than from Braidwood in December and we ran smack, dab into a huge traffic jam a mere six kilometres from the Bay.
We couldn’t see what the hold up was and Megan and I had close to an hour in the queue discussing whether it was ill-advised holiday road works, an accident or some other unforseen problem keeping us so near yet so far from our first stop for the day.
We finally made it the Princes Highway to discover the hold up was merely brought on by the volume of traffic attempting to turn right into Batemans Bay. Amazing. I hope the Proton still has a clutch!
We finally got into the Bay where Linda and her mother met us and, as I hadn’t eaten much all day I was glad to have a milkshake and a pie to refresh my reserves of energy.
After forty minutes waiting outside a dress shop in the cooling winds coming off the Pacific Ocean we were on our way to Narrawallee via Ulladulla.
Ulladulla is a very popular holiday destination and the numbers of holiday homes and people in general staying in these environs is astounding and as Linda, in her own car took me the scenic route through the tourist villages to our own abode it appears this part of the world is as popular as ever at this time of year. There are literally thousands crowding the shops, beaches, markets, roads and byways. Not my cup of tea at all.
So today I have been to the Mollymook markets where it seemed every holidaymaker on the south coast had decided to visit before having lunch at the Milton Bakery which managed to serve Linda’s mother and myself a very cold quiche. Now perhaps such things can be served cold, I am no great connoisseur when it comes to the secrets of cooking a quiche and of course, being a real man it is unusual for me to lower my eating standards and indulge in eating such fare. So, without wishing to show my ignorance in regards to how the quiche should be eaten and whether or not it could be eaten cold, I proceeded to munch on it without recourse to it being heated in a microwave.
Linda’s mum of course wasn’t so enthused about eating cold quiche, insisting there was no such process or history for eating it in such a way but as the queue in the shop was almost out the door and Linda showed no willingness to take to the line to complain, the quiche was eventually eaten cold. Much to her mother’s despair.
And now Linda, aware of my predilection to getting a little frustrated at standing outside shops for an interminably long period while Megan or herself tries on garment after garment and never deciding what they want, have left me at home to watch tennis with her mum and write on my computer. She has flown off to the Milton shops and has been gone for three hours now.
So, I bide my time, relaxing and doing nothing much at all which has it’s charms but is ultimately a rather hollow activity, while waiting for her return.
I have another day here tomorrow before an early return to Canberra on New Years Day and a drive out to West Wyalong to return Linda’s mother to her home.
So until my next instalment when I am sure you will again be transfixed by my coastal activities, I bid you a warm farewell.
Part 2
Monday, December 31, 2012
And so we have arrived at the last day of the year and I have returned to my bedroom in my little holiday shack in Narrawallee to complete the “Narrawallee Chronicles”, a feat I am sure will impress and delight all of you who were waiting for another chapter of my life to be put down in print.
As I left you last night I was waiting for Linda to return from her shopping expedition and she did so just as I signed off from my blog entry.
A headache which had been dogging me all morning finally cast itself upon me in all it’s painful glory and didn’t make my personality any brighter to be around.
We tried to get into the Mollymook Golf Club for dinner but it was so full you could almost imagine people hanging from the rafters if anyone else tried to fit into their restaurant. We were told that nothing would open up there until 8.30pm, an unsatisfactory situation considering we still had two hours to wait before striking that magical time.
So it was off to Ulladulla and a fish shop down by the harbour where we had to wait some considerable time before our food was finally presented. I threatened to eat Linda’s leather purse I was that hungry but by the time we got back to the shack the effects of my headache were starting to retard me and I felt considerably unwell.
I was able to eat most of the squid I had ordered but the lavish serving of chips and salad which came with it was a bridge too far. I took a panadol, given to me by Linda’s mother which was a painkiller specially designed for those with weak bones, “Osteo Panadol”, so my head was fine after a little while and I’m sure my skeletal frame will get by now as well.
I find myself ensconced in Narrawallee, a holiday community somewhere on the South Coast of NSW, between Ulladulla and Milton for those who know these parts.
I hate the South Coast! I have never been a fan of sun, sand and salt water and as I get older and into middle age I am finding my patience is limited when it comes to putting up with the hordes who descend on this part of the world at this time of the year. There are literally people everywhere!
A good friend of Linda’s owns the holiday house in which we are accommodated and she has rented it for a few days. It really isn’t much more than a three bedroom shack but it has everything one may want or need for an idyllic get away down the coast. If you like this sort of thing!
Linda brought her mother down on Boxing Day and I brought Megan down yesterday in my Proton Jumbuck, the first real road trip for the little Malaysian four cylinder ute in the four years that I have owned her and I must say I was pleased with her performance.
I wasn’t very fussed about coming but Linda was keen for me to make the effort and I suppose it never hurts to occasionally do things which you aren’t very interested in doing so here I am.
I left yesterday about 12.30pm, not long after Megan returned from her father’s place where she had been enjoying the hospitality of her “other” family.
I’m not exactly sure how she feels about going there. She has scaled back her visits in recent times but seems happy enough staying over on the rare occasions she goes.
Even her step-mother who I have never met and only know through reputation as a “stuck-up bimbo” was apparently nice to her, not a frequent occurrence as hard experience tells me that she is more often than not rude and ignorant to Linda’s girls when they are in her company. She even drove Megan to work on one occasion, from Jerrabomberra to Tuggeranong Hyperdome! Sort of makes you wonder what she is up to.
In a few weeks Linda’s eldest daughter is holding an engagement party and we will be face to face with the”other’ family and all of Linda’s old in-laws so that will I daresay be a fascinating evening. Yet another occasion of which I am not keen attending but really have a duty to go to and wouldn’t miss.
Nevertheless, Megan made it back by midday and we were on our way half an hour later.
The journey began very inauspiciously when, barely out of the Tuggeranong Valley, turning right off Yamba Drive into Long Gully Road, a car accident occurred almost right in front of us. The cars coming towards us had obviously received the amber light but one car, a people mover, had seemingly made a decision to go through but at the last minute changed it’s mind and slammed on the anchors and obeyed the signal. The fellow behind in a Mazda 3 or some such similar vehicle was hard on the bumper of the people mover and obviously had great confidence that the former would in fact keep going through the lights. Bad decision!
There was an ominous screaming of heavily applied brakes combined with the sound of rubber sliding on asphalt followed by the sickening crash of metal colliding hard with metal.
The lights soon turned green for us and we were on our way leaving the mess behind to be sorted out by others.
We traversed the road to Queanbeyan, taking the back way through Karabar to avoid the lights and action in the main street and were soon confronted by more reckless driving.
A p-plater in a Rav4 was swerving from side to side while being perilously close to a car directly in front and for a moment I thought we were witnessing another accident but it was merely a young driver being a fool. Not long after that incident an elderly driver turned in front of me and I was glad to get out of Canberra and it’s surrounds before some other imbecile decided to throw their web of stupidity around us.
The road to the coast from Canberra is, as anyone who has travelled it would know, a particularly hazardous piece of engineering made all the more perilous at this time of year by the large numbers of people travelling on it.
I am always amazed by those who seem to think their reaction times are far superior to the rest of us mortals and drive as close to your rear end as they possibly can, safe in the knowledge their super human driving skills will enable them to stop without putting them in the front seat with you when and if you make a mistake and come to a sudden halt.
There were of course several of these sorts of super beings on the road to Batemans Bay yesterday, having a good look at the back of my Proton and the tail guards of others who were unfortunate enough to get stuck in a line of traffic with them close at hand.
Drivers and their cars are funny things. Many seem to think they are the heir to Juan Fangio and drive accordingly despite the constant exhortations of the police at this time of year requesting drivers to be patient on the roads.
For every accident there should be ten more. There but for the grace of God go I.
Finally, we got down off the Clyde Mountain despite being pressured by several drivers who seemed to think they were coming off the mountain at Bathurst in October rather than from Braidwood in December and we ran smack, dab into a huge traffic jam a mere six kilometres from the Bay.
We couldn’t see what the hold up was and Megan and I had close to an hour in the queue discussing whether it was ill-advised holiday road works, an accident or some other unforseen problem keeping us so near yet so far from our first stop for the day.
We finally made it the Princes Highway to discover the hold up was merely brought on by the volume of traffic attempting to turn right into Batemans Bay. Amazing. I hope the Proton still has a clutch!
We finally got into the Bay where Linda and her mother met us and, as I hadn’t eaten much all day I was glad to have a milkshake and a pie to refresh my reserves of energy.
After forty minutes waiting outside a dress shop in the cooling winds coming off the Pacific Ocean we were on our way to Narrawallee via Ulladulla.
Ulladulla is a very popular holiday destination and the numbers of holiday homes and people in general staying in these environs is astounding and as Linda, in her own car took me the scenic route through the tourist villages to our own abode it appears this part of the world is as popular as ever at this time of year. There are literally thousands crowding the shops, beaches, markets, roads and byways. Not my cup of tea at all.
So today I have been to the Mollymook markets where it seemed every holidaymaker on the south coast had decided to visit before having lunch at the Milton Bakery which managed to serve Linda’s mother and myself a very cold quiche. Now perhaps such things can be served cold, I am no great connoisseur when it comes to the secrets of cooking a quiche and of course, being a real man it is unusual for me to lower my eating standards and indulge in eating such fare. So, without wishing to show my ignorance in regards to how the quiche should be eaten and whether or not it could be eaten cold, I proceeded to munch on it without recourse to it being heated in a microwave.
Linda’s mum of course wasn’t so enthused about eating cold quiche, insisting there was no such process or history for eating it in such a way but as the queue in the shop was almost out the door and Linda showed no willingness to take to the line to complain, the quiche was eventually eaten cold. Much to her mother’s despair.
And now Linda, aware of my predilection to getting a little frustrated at standing outside shops for an interminably long period while Megan or herself tries on garment after garment and never deciding what they want, have left me at home to watch tennis with her mum and write on my computer. She has flown off to the Milton shops and has been gone for three hours now.
So, I bide my time, relaxing and doing nothing much at all which has it’s charms but is ultimately a rather hollow activity, while waiting for her return.
I have another day here tomorrow before an early return to Canberra on New Years Day and a drive out to West Wyalong to return Linda’s mother to her home.
So until my next instalment when I am sure you will again be transfixed by my coastal activities, I bid you a warm farewell.
Part 2
Monday, December 31, 2012
And so we have arrived at the last day of the year and I have returned to my bedroom in my little holiday shack in Narrawallee to complete the “Narrawallee Chronicles”, a feat I am sure will impress and delight all of you who were waiting for another chapter of my life to be put down in print.
As I left you last night I was waiting for Linda to return from her shopping expedition and she did so just as I signed off from my blog entry.
A headache which had been dogging me all morning finally cast itself upon me in all it’s painful glory and didn’t make my personality any brighter to be around.
We tried to get into the Mollymook Golf Club for dinner but it was so full you could almost imagine people hanging from the rafters if anyone else tried to fit into their restaurant. We were told that nothing would open up there until 8.30pm, an unsatisfactory situation considering we still had two hours to wait before striking that magical time.
So it was off to Ulladulla and a fish shop down by the harbour where we had to wait some considerable time before our food was finally presented. I threatened to eat Linda’s leather purse I was that hungry but by the time we got back to the shack the effects of my headache were starting to retard me and I felt considerably unwell.
I was able to eat most of the squid I had ordered but the lavish serving of chips and salad which came with it was a bridge too far. I took a panadol, given to me by Linda’s mother which was a painkiller specially designed for those with weak bones, “Osteo Panadol”, so my head was fine after a little while and I’m sure my skeletal frame will get by now as well.
After dinner I lay down for an hour and this revived me somewhat and a little bit of television was mentally consumed before retiring to bed for the evening.
So this morning I was up early to begin the last day of the year.
I began reading “Seven Deadly Sins”, a book by the Irish journalist David Walsh, the man who many would say is chiefly responsible for bringing down Lance Armstrong. It is the story of his terrier like chase to bring Lance to bay and one can only say he has been totally vindicated due to the massive fall from grace which Lance was subjected to this year.
In many ways it’s a sad read as it really takes the veneer off, not only cycling but most professional sport and one can only come to the conclusion that performance enhancing drugs have destroyed sport as we know it. What we are seeing is not authentic. It is entertainment, yes. But it’s not sport. However I will write more about that some other time.
Linda was late to rise, much to the consternation of her mother who began to exhort me to wake her up. Fortunately that wasn’t necessary and we spent a relaxing morning doing nothing much at all before trying our luck at the Golf club again, this time for lunch and being more successful at this attempt at feeding ourselves.
After that it was a trip to the beach and the afternoon has been spent watching the tennis, or in my case, finishing off this entry for my blog.
It will be off to bed early for me as I have a big day driving. First home to Canberra, very early as Megan has to work and then off to West Wyalong to deposit Linda’s mother home.
And so, as we approach the New Year I will bid you farewell and return in normal fashion somewhere down the track.
Until next time.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 