Wednesday 07 January 2004

Dickheads on tour (Part II)

The story continues ...

After the triumphant return of the happy happy not-fucked-up car, and it being past lunch-time, we decided to make the most of the day and headed off for a bit of a drive around Margaret River/Yallingup, with the main target destination being Caves House.  Anyway it seems we planned our visit perfectly; to farewell Caves House and its gardens as we have known and loved them for many years, because its being sold to some horrible evil  multinational consortium or something who are going to turn it into a private resort for conventions, which means lots of rich fat men playing golf and not enjoying the true wonders of the place.  GAH.

It was the most beautiful day; not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky, very warm but not uncomfortably so.  After a drive around the coastal road and a long loving look at the gorgeous beaches - Margaret River beach and the river's outlet, Yallingup surf beach - we headed for Caves House.  We had a couple of drinks in the pub there (again I stuck with H₂O), and the boys played some pool (we girls just stood around looking decorative), then we headed off for a nice walk down to the beach.

I had planned to swim but by the time we got down to the beach it was about 5 pm and a stiff breeze was coming in.  I had a short walk along the waterline (the others conked out on the sand) and paddled a little, until an unexpectedly largish wave soaked me right up to mid-thigh.  Ick, wet cargo pants ... I received much teasing for this dopy move, of course.  After soaking up the sun and warmth for a while, watching the kite-surfers and a few idiotic brave people swimming, we brushed off the sand and wandered back to the car (yay! the car!), diverting part-way for a game of frisbee and an ice-cream.

Back at the cottage (a funny moment when we realised we didn't have the keys on us and couldn't get in, resulting in Fifi climbing in through the kitchen window with her bag slung over her shoulder, only to find the keys in that same bag five seconds later - eeeee!) we settled in for the night with beers (Schmirnoff Black Ice for moi), increasingly competitive games of Tetris (Magnum, Annie, Tuxedo), dinner (divine BBQ again put together by yrs truly), good music and a relatively early night (11 pm!  Wow, again with the wildness!).

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Friday was another glorious day; we took our sweet time in the morning, showering, breakfasting (the others ate Heinz baked beans with pork sausages eeewwwwww ... yet strangely alluring), playing the ubiquitous-by-now frisbee/Tetris/football.  I went for a walk around the place, down to the dam (which had marron!  where's a dirty sock/tin of dog food/crabbing net when you want 'em?), saw ducks and many kinds of native birds, including a tree full of kookaburras - two adults, three juveniles and two youngsters - ah, so that's what woke me up.

So, what we got up to ... hmmm lunch first (because our morning had been, like, so incredibly hectic we needed major refueling), consisting of yummy things like cajun chicken salad and Thai fish cakes, then a little shopping.  Surf shops and a truly truly great CD shop.  I forget its name but, despite its quite small size, it was the best CD shop I've ever been in, miles more extensive and diverse a range than most of the megastores in the city.  Tuxedo and I went a little bit crazy;  Pearl Jam's Lost Dogs, Smashing Pumpkin's Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, Best Beer Songs and a Nina Simone compilation.  All good, and as eclectic as always.  I was tempted by the Kevin Bloody Wilson collection though ...  Then off we went for our next adventure.

Mission:  to sample as many wines and beers in one afternoon as possible, ending the day with a swim at Meelup Beach.  I'll say right here right now, we succeeded admirably; and then some. 

Wine-tasting at Vasse Felix (very very very good wines there, especially the reds mmmm), somewhere else, another somewhere else, Evans & Tate (overrated, very insipid wines, blah), xxx had pleasant wines and a great gift shop, but I was really pining for dinner at Flutes, and couldn't focus even as I sipped on a very good Semilon Sauvignon Blanc.  I should perhaps note that, because we are responsible adults, Luke was doing the driving, and anyway you can't really get that drunk doing wine tastings, no matter how hard you try.  And I was, kinda, trying.  I should have just bought a couple of Vasse Felix' Theatre Red (gorgeous) and swigged it from the bottle.

... then beer tasting, of which I could not, to my great sorrow, partake, but I did get some vicarious enjoyment out of it plus I crossed fingers and stole a couple of sips here and there.  xxx was full when we got there, and they weren't allowing anyone else in, for heavens sake, not even us, I mean to say, the inconvenience and cheek!  Harrumph.  So Wicked Ales was next on the agenda and mmmmm mmmmmmmmm yes indeeedy.  They were out of citrus beer, to Magnum's disgust, but the chocolate beer and the real ginger beer were just heaven, oh so good.  Damn you, malted barley, damn you!

Last stop for the day, the pure beauty and loveliness that is Meelup Beach.  Okay okay so I use way too much hyperbole and overdo the superlatives on a regular basis, but honestly, this beach she is prettypretty.  Basically a half-moon shape, with trees and grass stretching down from the carpark to the sand, which is white and fine.  The water is usually clear as glass, and a stunning aquamarine colour - this day being no exception.  It looked like something out of a travel catalogue for exotic Bahamian private beaches for celebrities, accessible only by personal helicopters.  Ahhhhh  ....  While the others stretched out on the picnic rug on the grass and - you'll never guess - played some frisbee, Fifi and I went swimming. 

I haven't been swimming in the sea since early 2001, so it was a real joy.  We splashed about and did handstands, floated lazily, swam.  I even managed a few hundred metres of fast free-style, yay me - nice to know I haven't forgotten how.  The water was quite warm, with a little breeze coming in kicking up a small swell - you wouldn't call them "waves".  Fifi wandered out and then, to my surprise, I spotted Tuxedo at the water's edge, in swimming shorts!  Now Tuxedo isn't, obviously given his country of birth and the ambient temperature of the North Sea, a water-lover like me, so to say I was amazed at him even thinking about going for a swim is a wild understatement.  But with some encouragement (splashing him, trying to dunk him etc) he came in for swim with me.  And ahhh it was all so lovely, like girl-and-boy in some soppy movie, hugging and kissing while chest deep in water, me wrapping my legs around his waist and um, well, considering certain possibilities ... It was getting a bit cold so we splashed out - I executed a truly elegant falling-on-face manoeuvre whilst knee-deep - to find ...

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this is turning out to be the longest entry ever...

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... that Luke, without thinking, had gone swimming with the car keys in his pocket.  The car keys with the 4WD's immobiliser/alarm control on them.  Water + electronics = not compatible.  No no nonono NO.

So then we had trying-to-fix the control, and arguing over trying-to-fix-control methodology, and some almost-but-not-quite sniping, and a little bit of angst of the oh god what do we do NOW, and the oh shit we've fucked up the car AGAIN varieties.  

After at least an hour and a half of that - not joking; Tuxedo and I were getting a bit pissed off by all the to-ing and fro-ing and indecisiveness, like just fucking call a cab already and sort it out in the morning because there aint much you can do at 8 o'clock at night - we did call a cab (this holiday sponsored by Nokia, Motorola and Telstra, thank you) and set off back to the cottage, leaving the poor 4WD sitting all alone in this carpark in the middle of nowhere, hoping that it wouldn't get torched by hooligans or set upon by ferocious destructive kangaroos.

The cab drive back was insane; the driver was plain dangerous, braking at odd times, speeding along madly around tight bends, then slamming on the brakes when a 'roo bounced out in front, then foot down on the accelerator again ... We, however, were all too busy having hysterical fits of laughter to care; over what dickheads we were, fucking up so badly at every turn, disaster-ville.

Singing "Weeeeeee are the dickheads ... of the wo-orld" very loudly and badly to the tune of Queen's Champions of the World

"ArseholesRUs!"

"Team Dickhead"

before finally deciding on The Dickhead Tour 2004 ... even considering having t-shirts made up.  It was a crack-up, and so good to laugh that hard over having been so silly, when we could have all got tense with each other and snappy and gnarly.

Good times.

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Sunday was our check-out/departure date; we solved the car problem by way of Fifi calling her dad, who said he'd drive down to give us the spare set of keys (!!! what a legend !!!), then we'd drive back to Perth.  Which we did.  The drive back was fun, no major dickheadage, but lots of laughs and jokes and chat.

Laughs and jokes and chat being the common theme of those few days.  I had the most fun I've had in - well, I don't like to say YEARS but it felt like that.  Most fun with a group of people, I should perhaps qualify, as Tuxedo and I have fun all the time.  But screaming-out-loud-laughing and cracking each other up with lame in-jokes and sitting around chatting comfortably and drinking lots and having plain good happy FUN.  Ooooh yes.  It was so very good to get away from the House of Melodrama and Gloom, and just have a good, easy time, with great people.  All that laughing did me so much good; it did indeed take me out of my "mood" for a while (its not so much a mood anymore as being engulfed by a great evil gelatinous mound), and helped me start to get things in perspective.  Which is a good thing, right?  

I really want to print out those t-shirts.

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