Last weekend, we spent a wonderfully relaxing and enjoyable weekend in Culburra, land of the kookaburra (no, I lie)
Culburra is a close cousin of Wollongong. Despite not being as UBD/TomTom friendly, it offers the same pristine beaches & very monetary-generous accommodation. We scored a massive 'OC' type house that boasted a 2 minute walk from the beach. No s53 Trade Practices Act - false or misleading representations - contraventions here! Although the 2 minute walk didn't take into account the heavy toil of bacon and eggs (fried & scrambled), fresh oysters, fish'n'chips, prawns, wholesale KFC, BBQ octopus and a gluttony of food that the heart foundation warns you against.
Did you know that you can purchase make-your-own KFC chicken? End product is somewhat similar, however less crispy and surprisingly more spicy.
The surf was quite chaotic and a bit dangerous - ask Binny, she needed some baywatch assistance. Unlucky for her, there were no life guards. Lucky for her, there was an Asian novice surfer in close proximity.
We also went fishing - I caught my first fish EVER. It happened so quickly and I really didn't know what I was doing, so suffice to say that skill played no part. It was under the legal size and Kathy had to throw it back with the hook still lodged in its mouth. Poor little fishy. Hope the other fishes don't start taunting it with "train tracks" or "I know what you did last summer" comments. Thanks Craigy for all the supplies ... he certainly knows how to 'go fishin' ... *snicker*
We also visited an oyster farm - battlers of the sea. He had tears in his eyes as he was telling us the plight of the Georges River farmers during QX outbreak circa 1994. Stupid me flippantly mentioned that he must have been happy that the competition was wiped out. Ignorance is so embarrassing sometimes. *cringe* It takes 3 years to nurse those aphrodisiacs, and we gorge them for $1.33 a pop. The cost-benefit analysis for these farmers doesn't stack up, but I don't think they do it for the ker-ching!
On something completely unrelated.
I was watching a children's program the other morning, and a bunch of ppl in dinosaur(?) costumes were reading a letter from a kid. The letter read: "what makes a good friend and how do I meet one". Helpfully, the dinosaur-ppl listed some traits of a good friend, e.g. good at making lists (questionable), makes me laugh (tick), picks me when they fall down in the playground (tick). I was shocked when I heard their suggestion for the 2nd part of the question, i.e. where do I meet one. They suggested that this child conjure up an imaginary friend!! Is grand delusion really a solution? I never had an imaginary friend growing up, and I doubt having one would have alleviated those moments of nigel-ness. I can just imagine the solutions these dinosaur ppl would give to the following conundrums:
Speaking of, we were @ Hugo's on Sat night for Malinda's 21st bday - HAPPY BDAY by the way. The scene reminded me of that "famous" magazine advert. Everybody was hot and glamorous. Some ppl really put mega effort for a night out. Pick up joint indeed, some more than others (go Shar ... heh heh).
Vestiges of chilli crab is haunting me this morning. Coffee is not helping.