I actually woke up in time for the sunrise this morning! I tried for over a half an hour to wake π²
for some one on one time to no avail.
Finally I just picked up L and headed for the door. It was raining so I figured we’d drive around
and see if we could find some kangaroos out for their morning constitution and
call it good.
We ended up on the other side of the island (just a 10 minute drive) in
Dunwich. The rain hadn’t made it over to
that side yet so we got out and decided to try our hand at fishing off the same
peer X and I were at the other morning.
As we parked we noticed a bunch of school kids queuing up on the water
taxi ferry. We realized that these kids
took the boat to school each morning! As
we watched them, I glanced up at some noisy birds only to realize that there
was a koala sitting directly above my head!
What a treat! L was fascinated
watching it yawn, stretch and do it’s morning business. (Consequently, this is what koala guano looks
like!)
We fished off the peer for awhile—we actually saw some fish but none of
them were dumb enough to bite our bait.
We watched the pelicans and I got this great shot! We went back and watched the koala some
more—then we made our way back home.
We’ve been washing laundry all week only to be disappointed by the
piles of not-drying, starting to smell clothes steadily piling up on lines and
horses around the house and yard. The
humidity is barely perceptible except for the inability for anything to dry and
we’ve been sadly schooled by the reality that most Aussie homes don’t include a
clothes dryer. Whether it’s an
environmental thing or not, I don’t know.
What I do know is it’s annoying!!
American’s would never stand for such inconvenience! Haha It’s been good for us to see how another culture
lives for I will certainly appreciate my dryer once we get home!
So we spent the entire day re-washing clothes. Once we had a few loads ready, we headed over
to the Laundromat that’s a short 2 minute drive down the road. That’s when we discovered that they don’t
open until 2 on Mondays!
Seriously?! They also only have
2 sets of machines! When we went back at
2:10, one set was already in use so we popped our first load in and got
started. At 8:05 PM I finally removed our last load. It is astonishing how much laundry 10 people
can fit into 10 tiny carry-on bags!
Sensing my frustration and need to relax, π snuck me around the corner
to try one more little dive here on Straddie before we leave tomorrow. Neither of us had any idea what to expect
from food at the “Bowls Club”—nor did we have any idea what a “bowls club”
was. He’d just seen a sign advertising
‘food 7 days a week, open late’ and thought we’d give it a go.
Upon pulling in we surmised that “Bowls” is a game for old people,
basing our deduction on the median age of the patronage. It’s not played at night and, since it was
after dark, everyone was inside. As we
walked toward the entrance, it looked like a pretty nice place. Plenty of outdoor seating that was covered
for shade in the sun and protection from the rain, and inside was dated but
spacious.
We walked straight up to the café section to see what was on the
grill. We hadn’t been standing there for
30 seconds before a huffy woman practically stomped up and demanded, “Doff your
hat in the presence of the Queen!”
Confused, thinking we were being pranked or something I giggled,
“Excuse me?”
She was clearly not amused by my giggle. Gesturing emphatically towards a tiny picture
on a wall just far enough away that it was out of focus but close enough that
you could make out that it was a portrait of some kind she repeated, “Even when it is merely an image of the Queen
one doffs ones hat in reverence to Her Majesty.”
Hesitantly, unsure if this was really happening or if somehow BJ and/or
Reece had put a friend up to this, π removed his hat. Remember now, we’ve been working hard all
day, and he’s had that hat on all day.
Neither of us had gotten cleaned up the unruly matting that was now
visible testified that the hat hadn’t been worn for π’s benefit as much as it
was for the rest of us. He was horrified
to have to remove it and, noticing his expression, the woman smirked! She actually smirked!
“Are you members here?” came the next demand from her royal hostess.
“We don’t even know where ‘here’ is, Ma’am. I’m sorry, but we’re not from around these
parts,” I responded. I’ve got to admit,
I snuck a little of my Grandma’s drawl into my voice, just for fun—and to
confuse her. I’ve noticed that Aussies
in general have a really hard time understanding Southern.
Waving an over sided ledger in the air in front of her the clearly
befuddled woman instructed, “All visitors must sign in before being served.”
Turning to walk out of the door I said, “Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know
you had to be a member to be in here.
We’ll just take our business elsewhere.
So sorry to disrupt your evening.”
You could have cut yourself on the look the guy behind the café counter
shot the woman and quicker than I could step she responded, “You’re welcome to
stay. But as soon as you place your order, before you even sit down, come
over and sign in at the book.”
With that she turned on her heel and stalked back behind the bar.
Completely disoriented now, π and I just looked at each other and
chuckled. Turning to the man waiting to
take our order I asked, “Is everyone so loyal to the crown around here?” From our short time in country, I’ve gathered
most Aussies are indifferent at best to the auspicious royals who claim dominion
over all things Australia. I’ve
certainly yet to meet anyone who has been so emphatic about their
allegiance.
“Well, at the Bowls club they are, but outside of here, no,” he
answered, looking as apologetic with his eyes as he could, casting side long
glances in the hostess’ direction. You
could tell he wanted to say more but fear of reprisal held his tongue.
We ordered yet another sampling of fish and chips, π’s latest
obsession. He’s determined to go home
and be able to replicate, alter and personalize the most delectable of
seafood. I go along in the name of
research.
As we waited for our food, we looked around in astonishment. A group of 8-10 men were sitting around a
large table drinking and enjoying a decidedly inappropriate conversation,
dropping the f-bomb as though it was just another word and not the foulest of
offensive language. There was a little
grotto off to the side that would rival Las Vegas’ slot machine habit that was
teeming with business. Yet another group
was smoking behind a glass wall.
Gesturing to all that was around us π said, “Good thing I took off my
hat! Wouldn’t want to offend the
Queen!”
We got our food and left laughing at the absurdity of it all.
We ended up on the other side of the island (just a 10 minute drive) in
Dunwich. The rain hadn’t made it over to
that side yet so we got out and decided to try our hand at fishing off the same
peer X and I were at the other morning.
As we parked we noticed a bunch of school kids queuing up on the water
taxi ferry. We realized that these kids
took the boat to school each morning! As
we watched them, I glanced up at some noisy birds only to realize that there
was a koala sitting directly above my head!
What a treat! L was fascinated
watching it yawn, stretch and do it’s morning business. (Consequently, this is what koala guano looks
like!)
We fished off the peer for awhile—we actually saw some fish but none of
them were dumb enough to bite our bait.
We watched the pelicans and I got this great shot! We went back and watched the koala some
more—then we made our way back home.
We’ve been washing laundry all week only to be disappointed by the
piles of not-drying, starting to smell clothes steadily piling up on lines and
horses around the house and yard. The
humidity is barely perceptible except for the inability for anything to dry and
we’ve been sadly schooled by the reality that most Aussie homes don’t include a
clothes dryer. Whether it’s an
environmental thing or not, I don’t know.
What I do know is it’s annoying!!
American’s would never stand for such inconvenience! Haha It’s been good for us to see how another culture
lives for I will certainly appreciate my dryer once we get home!
So we spent the entire day re-washing clothes. Once we had a few loads ready, we headed over
to the Laundromat that’s a short 2 minute drive down the road. That’s when we discovered that they don’t
open until 2 on Mondays!
Seriously?! They also only have
2 sets of machines! When we went back at
2:10, one set was already in use so we popped our first load in and got
started. At 8:05 PM I finally removed our last load. It is astonishing how much laundry 10 people
can fit into 10 tiny carry-on bags!
Sensing my frustration and need to relax, π snuck me around the corner
to try one more little dive here on Straddie before we leave tomorrow. Neither of us had any idea what to expect
from food at the “Bowls Club”—nor did we have any idea what a “bowls club”
was. He’d just seen a sign advertising
‘food 7 days a week, open late’ and thought we’d give it a go.
Upon pulling in we surmised that “Bowls” is a game for old people,
basing our deduction on the median age of the patronage. It’s not played at night and, since it was
after dark, everyone was inside. As we
walked toward the entrance, it looked like a pretty nice place. Plenty of outdoor seating that was covered
for shade in the sun and protection from the rain, and inside was dated but
spacious.
We walked straight up to the café section to see what was on the
grill. We hadn’t been standing there for
30 seconds before a huffy woman practically stomped up and demanded, “Doff your
hat in the presence of the Queen!”
Confused, thinking we were being pranked or something I giggled,
“Excuse me?”
She was clearly not amused by my giggle. Gesturing emphatically towards a tiny picture
on a wall just far enough away that it was out of focus but close enough that
you could make out that it was a portrait of some kind she repeated, “Even when it is merely an image of the Queen
one doffs ones hat in reverence to Her Majesty.”
Hesitantly, unsure if this was really happening or if somehow BJ and/or
Reece had put a friend up to this, π removed his hat. Remember now, we’ve been working hard all
day, and he’s had that hat on all day.
Neither of us had gotten cleaned up the unruly matting that was now
visible testified that the hat hadn’t been worn for π’s benefit as much as it
was for the rest of us. He was horrified
to have to remove it and, noticing his expression, the woman smirked! She actually smirked!
“Are you members here?” came the next demand from her royal hostess.
“We don’t even know where ‘here’ is, Ma’am. I’m sorry, but we’re not from around these
parts,” I responded. I’ve got to admit,
I snuck a little of my Grandma’s drawl into my voice, just for fun—and to
confuse her. I’ve noticed that Aussies
in general have a really hard time understanding Southern.
Waving an over sided ledger in the air in front of her the clearly
befuddled woman instructed, “All visitors must sign in before being served.”
Turning to walk out of the door I said, “Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know
you had to be a member to be in here.
We’ll just take our business elsewhere.
So sorry to disrupt your evening.”
You could have cut yourself on the look the guy behind the café counter
shot the woman and quicker than I could step she responded, “You’re welcome to
stay. But as soon as you place your order, before you even sit down, come
over and sign in at the book.”
With that she turned on her heel and stalked back behind the bar.
Completely disoriented now, π and I just looked at each other and
chuckled. Turning to the man waiting to
take our order I asked, “Is everyone so loyal to the crown around here?” From our short time in country, I’ve gathered
most Aussies are indifferent at best to the auspicious royals who claim dominion
over all things Australia. I’ve
certainly yet to meet anyone who has been so emphatic about their
allegiance.
“Well, at the Bowls club they are, but outside of here, no,” he
answered, looking as apologetic with his eyes as he could, casting side long
glances in the hostess’ direction. You
could tell he wanted to say more but fear of reprisal held his tongue.
We ordered yet another sampling of fish and chips, π’s latest
obsession. He’s determined to go home
and be able to replicate, alter and personalize the most delectable of
seafood. I go along in the name of
research.
As we waited for our food, we looked around in astonishment. A group of 8-10 men were sitting around a
large table drinking and enjoying a decidedly inappropriate conversation,
dropping the f-bomb as though it was just another word and not the foulest of
offensive language. There was a little
grotto off to the side that would rival Las Vegas’ slot machine habit that was
teeming with business. Yet another group
was smoking behind a glass wall.
Gesturing to all that was around us π said, “Good thing I took off my
hat! Wouldn’t want to offend the
Queen!”
We got our food and left laughing at the absurdity of it all.
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