Thursday, 5 July 2012

Yamba - Day 6

Gumby and Co
Sue woke improved after the application of antibiotics and lots of sleep, so after breakfast and some balcony sunshine, was able to walk the short distance to Pippi's - our close and handy cafe/restaurant - where we met up with Rose. We discussed our businesses, past lives, present successes and future directions.

Rose returned with us to the flat when Sue's health licence expired and Mandy and daughter Ava joined us soon after for a late morning modelling class but nothing Miranda Kerr would ever have taken part in. This was plasticine "in the round", with all but me taking part in the shaping of best examples of the art and the display of same on the central table. Pride soon turned to panic as the colourful creations of furtive imaginations soon imitated the Wicked Witch of the West and could be heard screaming "I'm melting, I'm melting" as the hot winter sun slacked their spines and puddled the aspirations of creator and creation.

Rose was good enough to be Susie Sitter Sister whilst I walked into town to post the box of shells Ava and I had collected for my daughter Sarah. A Yamba shell held in the pocket can fix many a problem and ward of even the most persistent demons, so we sent her a box of them because placed in a bag, they could play merry hell with a demon's face.

Encouraged by the the Wobbly One, I had lunch in town - a bacon and egg roll and a bowl of fruit salad and yogurt washed down with tea - and then walked home. They were both asleep in the same position I left them, although they assured me they had absented themselves from the bed to devour lunch. I'm not sure I'm that gullible.

Sue and I are great walkers, especially on holidays and by now, had this been a "normal" Yamba, we would already have thirty kms up for the week but as Sue's head had wanted to walk in circles, then smaller circles  and then not at all, we have been missing our long walks, geography lessons and hands held to bind us to this life we have made ...

... so, in an effort to make amends, we went for a drive instead. On Pacific Parade, which runs behind Pippi Beach, I got some spectacular snaps of three guys riding para-boards ... surfboards with wind sail kites attached. The waves were choppy and the wind gusty so their manoeuvres were pretty exciting. As I was taking photos, the wind blew my cap off. After finishing, it looked like I had lost my cap because I couldn't see it anywhere until an nice old lady pointed out it was at my feet. Doh!

Next stop was Main Beach, scene of many of Sue's greatest Yamba achievements, many of them involving boys not buoys.

Lone surfer
At Turners Beach, I got some good snaps. One in particular, of an older surfer sitting with his board on the sand watching the waves and readying himself to go out, was a goodie. Seagulls and rocks and trees also become subjects. From there, we went to the Yamba Wharf which reminded me to make a booking for the Jazz Cruise on Sunday. We went last year and had a ball listening and dancing to a five piece, and enjoying a cheese platter and a few bottles of red. A very pleasant way to spend four hours on the Clarence.

Further west, we drove down Carrs Rd to Oyster Channel. Our children will remember this as the place where I bogged the Nissan Patrol and their mother instructed them in the merits of discretion being ultimately the far superior part valour. I dropped it to the back axil in mud and water, ruined a pair of joggers suck-stepping around the car to inspect what the fool driving had caused and then coloured the day with language unbecoming. These were back in my days of being a turd. We eventually got out thanks to luck, although at the time I talked up my skill to an appreciative but hardly gullible audience. Home was home no matter what pretence it took to get you there. There were no such dramas today - the track is blocked by large boulders, not just the "do not enter" signs which were there previously. It looked a quiet place to sit and read ... as long as no Nissan Patrols turned up.

It was late in the afternoon, so we drove back into Yamba and had coffee as the staff packed up around us at Caperberry's, before I returned Sue back to the flat, no worse for wear. I went out to the Plaza to hunt and gather, with Dylan and then John Mayer blasting in the white ear pieces whist people smiled at me dancing up aisle three amongst the pasta sauces. Don't talk to me about surrealism Salvador.

Buritos for dinner and then out to Lance's place for the evening and a chance to catch up with nephew John - Lance and ex-wife Jenny's son. He's taller and still has an easy smile and is always pleasant to spend time with. It was a nice night. Sue felt well enough to give her brother heaps but then, she'd need to be in a box not to do that. She lasted to ten o'clock and then, apparently concerned I would turn back into a house mouse and the Forester into a pumpkin, she yawned instructions to be taken home.

I squeaked agreement and took her arm for the dangerous passage down stairs, upstairs and into bed.

Tired now, I'll clean my whiskers and dream of cheese.

No comments:

Post a Comment

All comments will be moderated before being posted.