Mini breaks, miraculous weather, and mad marsupials

The past few months I have really been spoiled rotten in terms of weekend locations. This past weekend was no exception. After a foul day at work on Friday (during which my colleagues discussed their um, preferences for the receptionist down the hall... for HOURS) I arrived at the ABC office to get a lift with a friend. Here I was mildly cheered by a young boy running up and informing me that there was face-painting on the floor above. He was decked out as a very overenthusiastic and slightly too orange lion. I was jealous.

Hopped in the car and headed south towards Jervis Bay. Currarong, our destination, is situated on the Northern headland that encircles the bay. Having seen the area before I was madly excited to be able to go back. The friends in question had purchased a small house a few years before, and utterly transformed it, from cabin to dream house, with the addition of a huge upper deck. From this, we could sit, huddled around a sizzling brazier, and watch the sunset with large glasses of wine. Strange though it sounds, it was lovely to know that it was properly cold, even by UK standards, and yet we were toasty warm.

The next day, after dropping in to the local Womens Association shop where they were all busy knitting away (socks, baby jumpers, and, rather bizarelly, ipad covers...) and complaining about the cold, we headed out on a bush walk around the headland. The sun was hot, but the pathway was unfortunately still completely flooded in places. Cue desperate attempts to swing over/squirm around the outside of the huge trenches of red, tea tree infused water that blocked our way. It was a great walk, and felt amazing to fully stretch the legs after weeks of non exercise. 

That evening we took deck chairs and a bottle of champagne down to the beach and watched the sunset. I was roundly derided for never having drunk champagne on a beach. C'mon guys, I am from London! It was a stunning sunset, prompting many many photos, only slightly marred when an overweight, middle aged lady came and started stretching out right in the middle of our view. Grr...

The following morning, shortly after dawn I was woken by a persistent cough outside the window. When it continued I tiptoed out to see what was going on. Ali was already awake and informed my of the presence of kangaroos at different ends of the house. Naturally, we somehow managed to get ourselves wedged between the two groups. There was a shaky moment when we had to edge back around the house, passing about a metre away from a large, unfriendly looking male. My God they get big! Retreating to the deck, we took up position to watch (and in my case play paparazzi).

Turns out the coughing is a way of the males stating they are annoyed with each other and would like to fight. After kicking away the youngster and female, they started feverishly playing with their balls (their own, not each others!) They then squared up and started to box. It was amazing. A few flying kicks. Circling. Bouncing. Suddenly it got halfhearted and they stopped, looking embarrassed. Evidently they had sensed they had spectators. Damn. It was truly magnificent though while it lasted!

After a large breakfast (featuring more champagne) we spent the morning at a different beach, this time looking over the lagoon rather than the ocean. The water was completely calm, with a yacht moored nearby, purely for photo ops, we decided. Passed a couple of hours lazing around and collecting shells before grumpily realising that it was time to head off, shake the sand from our feet, and troop back to Sydney. But not before some more food, and a little more champagne...!

Wow - what a weekend!

What a weekend! It had a bit of everything. Culture. Drama. Wonder. Intrigue. Vodka. Wine. etc etc

The weekend began early on Friday afternoon. Having pitched up about 10:30 (I had been there since 9...), the boss then announced that he was leaving the office at 1 to go to the "giggle and hoot" show at the Opera House, staring none other than Bananas in Pyjamas! I assumed that he was taking his young daughter to this - but, having learnt from experience, decided not to ask in case it was just a strange quirk of his (turned out he did - in his words "she loved it! She totally lost her noodle!") So I strolled out of the office at lunchtime into the hot winter sun, freedom!

That evening was the long awaited opening of the 'Sydney Moderns' exhibition at the Art Gallery of New South Wales. I arrived late, as usual, but luckily found some familiar faces amid the crush. Heading to the bar to take advantage of the free champagne, I promptly got a glass poured down the front of my dress. Grrrr. And people wonder why I rarely bother to dress up!

After about an hour of either dull, pointless, or insulting speeches, we finally got into the show. It was a great mix - some fantastic cubist pictures of various well known sites, gorgeous black and white photos of the construction of the bridge, even a full reconstruction of a drawing room. The dominance of female artists was particularly prominent, as was the general joyous use of colour. It was a great show, only slightly diminished by the over zealous bouncers throwing us all out at 8:30! Congratulations to the curators!

The next day was similarly sunny, so spent a restorative hour sunbaking before heading to a local pub to enjoy the build up to the Lions game. And my god what a game it turned out to be! The atmosphere was incredible - the Lions fans dominated the pub - dressed in kilts and flags and being as lairy as possible without getting thrown out. While the Aussie's tried (shouts of "you'll never be a fullpenny" were thrown at the screen!) we were the dominant side. And, as opposed to the second test, it was actually a decent game of rugby as well! Afterwards, bouyed up by our win, we headed to a local bar which prided itself on Heston Blumenthal style cocktails. Blimey it delivered. It was definitely the most impressive drinking 'experience' I had ever had. I ordered the English Summer Garden Martini - which promised to bring me the tastes, sounds and smells of the summer. How could a drink bring me sounds, I wondered?

The waiter approached carrying two slabs of turf. On one lay an ipod and an eyemask. Placing the eyemask over my eyes, I turned on the ipod and was overwhelmed with english sounds  - church bells chiming, leather on willow, trickling streams, wimbledon commentary (love the stereotypical english life  - hardly realistic..!). I then inhaled deeply from the smoking watering can. Freshly cut grass filled my nostrils. Sipping from the gin and cucumber martini, I examined the rest of the apparatus. This included edible soil (chocolate cookie crumbs) which you ate with a miniature shovel, and absinthe 'worms' (jelly) which you separated from the grass and soil using a miniature rake.

Across the table, Vicky was wrestling with the Breakfast Mojito. Served on a dental tray, it resembled a high school chemistry experiment. You brushed your teeth with the Colgate using a miniature toothbrush (yup, they loved their small tools!!), then shot the mouthwash (served in a conical flask) then injected the rum into your mouth using a syringe. Biting down on a lime cleansed the palate. The night continued... but the memories got a bit fuzzy...All in all, it was an awesome experience which i cant wait to repeat!

The next day, lunch at a friends yacht club was followed by a lovely nap to prepare myself for the Wimbledon final. Starting at 11 at night, it was a true commitment to watch the whole thing. After the first 2 sets I had had as much as I could handle. Every point provoked a panic attack. We had squirmed our way through, hearts in mouths. Thinking that it would go to five sets (ever the British attitude!) I headed to bed. Where of course I didnt sleep, but woke up every 2 minutes to check the score on my phone... Idiot.

Knackered and elated I headed to work the next day, arriving at 10 (trying not to repeat all the time wasted on Friday), I collapsed in my gorgeous reclining chair in the sun. And waited. And waited. Around 11, the CEO appeared, on the phone. I didnt want to disrupt his call, so didnt get up or call out. Half an hour later, he was still on the phone. I started to feel awkward - I really should have made my presence known by now. At quarter to twelve, my immediate boss (without whom I cant do any work) arrived. He greeted me, causing the CEO to jump out of his skin, and glare at me for hiding in the corner. Brilliant. Ah well. I didnt care. Because that evening I knew I was off diving in the harbour!

Heading straight to Manly from work, we got to the dock and met the others, set up the kit and headed off! The feeling of heading out at full speed into the inky blackness of the ocean was exhilarating! Getting into the water was a slightly different matter. To say it was cold does not even come close to the reality. But it was well worth it. The contrast between the torch beams and the looming darkness is a pretty amazing feeling. The whole dive was really quite surreal - the swell around the rocks added to the out of control feeling. After  some initial discomfort, getting repeatedly swept into a clump of kelp, I went with it. And had a fantastic time. We came across a sleeping turtle - which promptly woke up at having a torch shone in its face and grumpily swam off, as well as several small rays. Sadly no sharks, but there's always next time, and certain people werent too comfortable with the idea of them. One of which was the friend who I was diving with - she had a rough enough time anyway, cheerfully informing me afterwards that she had thrown up in her regulator. Ew.

Signing off for now - driving down to Jervis Bay this weekend - lets see if it can measure up!

Beth, meth, 'speth'

As it turns out, I have been very lucky with the easygoing nature of my living spaces over the last 9 months. Two friends had strange clauses written into their contracts. The first, at D and J's place, was that the weird flesh coloured crystal that lived on the window sill and plugged into the mains was never to be turned off. Naturally it gets turned off a lot. Quite often on purpose. It is now rather smaller, and seems to be melting. Odd behaviour for a crystal. The other friend, H, had the rather alarming clause "you must not speak to or make contact with the other people living in the house". Nice. Not remotely dodgy. As it turns out, maybe a worth while warning. They are very friendly, but keen purveyors of herbal and chemical remedies.

Last week I was on Oxford Street when I suddenly noticed a crystal in a shop window, exactly the same as the rapidly diminishing one in the Bondi flat. Excitedly, I texted my friend. Here is a record of our somewhat stilted conversation:

B: Just found a shop that sells crystals in case you kill yours!

D: A shop that sells crystals in case I kill mine? What does that mean?!?

B: The odd melty one that keeps getting switched off! Always good to know where to get a replacement just in case! A bit like when a friend asks you to look after their pet...

D: So confused. Are you trying to buy crystal meth?? And what have you been doing to people's pets???

At which point I gave up trying to make any sense and just replied:

B: Yes, thats it! Trying to buy meth but its raining so all the usual suspects are hiding inside.

D: ... Have you tried asking H's flatmates...?

To a normal person I would have thought this quite clearly translated as sarcasm. However, when I saw D on Tuesday at a pub quiz night, he started to ask something and then went quiet. When questioned, he looked shifty and muttered something about not wanting the whole group to hear. I pushed further. Whereupon he announced to my group of friends that he was worried about me and my obvious meth habit. There was a shocked silence. Followed by uproarious laughter. Various flattering comments flew, "shes too fat to be on meth! she still has eyebrows!" Poor sheepish D had honestly spent the whole week worrying that I was hiding a terrible secret. Which, considering we all spent the whole of last weekend together, would have been an impressive feat indeed.