Smells like bum, looks like heaven
June 20, 2005Sorrento, Victoria, Australia
5:00 pm.
The armoire in our bedroom smells a little bit like bum. We think it’s the wood it is made from. Cedar maybe. I know it sounds like I am passing the blame on inanimate wood paneling. But it smelled that way when we arrived, not after we packed our clothes in it. So now when I reach for a pair of socks or a jumper (Yes, I wrote jumper, isn’t it crazy?), I get a good whiff of Jason’s room circa 1987-89, the sweaty days. Where boxers and socks lay hidden closets until they were stiff.
Misty water coloured memories.
Steph is chopping wax beans and drinking red wine as I write this. What a little rummy Ms. White is becoming. As you may or may not know we are staying in a huge wine region. A wine region with a number of vineyards that produce excellent Shiraz. The bold, biting Shiraz being a particular favourite of Steph’s. So the combination of all these factors has lead to the almost daily announcement of:
“We have to stop and get a bottle of wine” or
“I can’t wait to have a glass of wine” or my personal favourite,
“I would sell Hud into slavery for a glass of Shiraz right now”
I guess to put up with me for 24/7 I would find a deliciously bountiful vice too.
Today was fun. We drove to Port Nepean and rented bikes for the 15km round trip to head of the Mornington Peninsula, a former Australian army post. It started off sunny and brisk, the hilly ride keeping us warm and seeking oxygen. Steph and I gave each other the ‘I can’t believe how out of shape we are’ bulge of the eyes. Hud of course sipped his latte on the back, legs crossed, reading The New Yorker.
The army post was built in the late 19th century, serving as a watch post for the early Australian paranoia and then as an actually military post in both of the Great wars. It fired the first Allied shot in both wars. At a German ship trying to escape Port Phillip Bay in 1939 and at another boat that just didn’t understand the signals in 1919. These were the only two shots of aggression ever fired from this post.
There were underground tunnels, and bomb-proof rooms (where we ate our picnic lunch as it started to rain), and other gunnery and magazine rooms, including where they kept all their shells and explosive mixtures. It was all kind of interesting, kind of boring. Two buses full of grade nine kids were there on a field trip, screaming up and down the tunnels. They were full of zits and bad hair, sectioned off in all different cliques, which both Steph and I analyzed. Hud ran around flapping his sweatshirt sleeves like wings, trying to impress the teenagers.
Because it was poring they gave us a lift back to our bikes to at least cut our ride by a kilometer. We still ended up soaked and winded by the time we got back to the visitor centre.
Legs like rubber, lungs on fire, we hopped in the car and drove to this week’s home.
The owners of our cottage arrived back from Perth and gave us a bottle of wine. She is Danish and we think he may be British. I am playing golf with him on Wednesday.
I told him my handicap was 20. I should have told him my handicap is that my legs feel like slinkies and I have a tendency to shank multiple balls into the woods.
Oh well, he will soon find out.
I think we are playing in a tournament. Oh goodie,
Love to all,
J.
June 19, 2005
Sorrento, Victoria, Australia
7:45 pm.
Do you know what today is? You bet….. as my good husband reminded me, subtly no less, at around 9:30 A.M. this morning, that it was in fact Father’s Day. Being the self-centered person that I am, I had completely forgotten. Shit. He had gotten up with Hud, made him breakfast and then came back into bed at 9:30. I was still lazing about and he reminded me that we should get a phone card to call our dads. It still didn’t hit me…..until…..oh shit, shit shit. My excuse was that it actually not Father’s Day in Aussie. It’s not till September.
The day got better for Jase though, cause he got to go to the movies solo and have popcorn. He went to the afternoon showing of Star Wars. Hud and dropped him off at the theatre and went home to drop off the groceries, make a quick sammy and off to the beach. After a fifteen minute walk through the craggly, dark woods, we arrived at the sand dunes and the edge of the ocean. There were lots of surfers out today. We parked ourselves next to a few surfer onlookers and played in the sand. Hud played in the sand and I watched the surfers, wondering if I could attempt it before I leave Aussie. At the same time wondering if my contacts would get wrecked or if I would get gobbled up by a tiger shark. Or which would happen first. Note to self…..get over phobias.
My daydream is broken by the call of Hud, saying, “mom I have to poo”. Shit. Of coarse there are no toilets, washrooms, loos, potties, etc….. on or near the beach. Just as I was trying to mix in with the 20-something surfers, the reality of having a just-toilet trained boy sets in. Quickly, I whisk Hud over to the rocky caves and find a good nook for him to squat. Luckily it was a clean break and it only took one wipe. I tightly knotted the poop bag and went back to the beach. It was an Alice moment for sure.
Went to Sorrento to pick up Jase, quickly bought him a soft copy of Da Vinci’s Code to further suck up. Then we went for fish and chips at the pier and an almost sunset walk
on the beach. Evening routine has set in. Hud is almost in bed. Jase is flicking the channels (only about 11) in between Big Brother (Aussie version). Yes, we seem to be getting hooked on reality TV and the weekly rag, Women’s Day. I only buy them for the crossword puzzles. Okay, and for the Hollywood gossip. Anyway, should end. All in all, a very good day on the coast.
Hugs and kisses, Steph
June 18, 2005
Sorrento, Victoria, Australia
8:05 pm.
Sipping a chilly Coopers Brewery Original Pale Ale, one of the six I bought yesterday, one of the three I have had tonight, and the night, as they say, is still young. If I was one of the remaining Coopers, lying down on the upper rack in the fridge, I would be nudging the other two closer to the door, coaxing them to make it easy on themselves, to extend my liquid life, oh, another seven minutes.
Yesterday’s beach tramp with Hud was a success, although we lost a blue shovel. He played with his new toys, while I leaned against the dune, backpack as a pillow and listened. Listened to Hud’s imagination and the ocean and thought about things I had not thought about in years. A clutter free mind brings things down from the attic. Remembering the car my father and I were in when he told me that he would not be living with us anymore. Or the target wall mural at the Vantage apartment. Apartment #356 or 365 I can’t remember exactly. It’s all bizarre.
We returned full of sand and smiles, to Stephanie, who was limber and relaxed after her 105 minute yoga class. I had a sandwich, Hud had some left over pasta and then we were off to Sorrento to return the movie and post the most recent post, which you have all read and commented on. It is great to able to add photos to the journal. We have over 500 pictures so far, in less than a month. You realize that is a 6000-picture slide show when we return. We’ll have a party. Mom if you could make the sausages and meatballs that would be great.
We checked out the pier and the ferry in Sorrento as we are planning to take our car over the ferry, between the two heads (Queenscliff is on the other side for the geography buffs) for an overnighter near the twelve apostles. The twelve apostles are rock formations that line the Victorian coast further west from we are now. It is a popular tourist attraction that is supposed to be spectacular, bus tour parking and all. We just want to do the Great Ocean Road drive, which includes the apostle stop, but only as one of the many things to see on the southern coast of Australia.
Later on that night we went for pizza and took Hud to see Madagascar. We all enjoyed it immensely although we think Hud ate too much junk, as he woke up at three a.m. that night, fell back asleep at 6:45, and then woke up for good at eight. Needless to say, Steph and I were sharpening our claws, waiting for a good reason to lash out at each other.
And then they receded. Our plan was to do our laundry at the coin op and have a coffee in Rye. It was raining and we were waiting for Hud to begin his transformation into the Omen. We then would take him back home and let him sleep the demon away, and sneak in our own needed naps. It is amazing how lack of sleep can turn someone so evil. And by someone I mean myself.
Well an amazing thing happened, the rain cleared and a beautiful sunny day appeared above us. Laundry was a snap with the guy working there chatting us up like we were long lost friends. He told us which washers to use, which dryers to use, how is ex-wife stayed in a camper across the road for three months after they divorced and that is something she didn’t want to do while they were married. Lets just say this guy was lonely. I was going to ask him what was a good spot to pop in for a pint, but it sounded too much like an invitation, and I couldn’t see myself listening to Baldy, the Wonder Talker, drone on all night about what a skank his ex-wife was. Needless to say, we smiled and nodded, and were very polite about the whole exchange.
Hud looked up to it, so with all our clothes now clean and folded, we headed out to Flinders, a small town on the ocean side of the Peninsula, recommended to us by pothead Liz the other day. The drive was beautiful and it kind of reminded me of PEI with fields of grazing cows with an oceanic backdrop. We drove down through valleys with hairpin turns and passed kangaroo warning signs. Thirty minutes later, we arrived in Flinders. And of course there were two things we had to do upon arrival. Find a cappuccino for Steph, and a washroom for me. We found a café that solved both dilemmas, and even I had a cappuccino to celebrate the locating of a toilet. They say word toilet here like we use the term washroom. Toilet to us is a bit of a dirty word. I am going to the toilet. Well good for you mate.
So with take away (takeout) cups in one hand, and pistachio orange cookies in the other, we went across the street to a park to let Hud have his run of things for awhile. We started talking to South African couple with a three-year-old daughter named Taylor who had lived in London for a bit before moving to Melbourne for good. Just last year they stayed in Toronto at his Aunt’s place at Danforth and Broadview. Small world indeed.
The woman was also a bit chatty, revealing their financial situation without us baiting her one bit and how Taylor had a small bladder and had to wee 12 times a hour. The mother had straight teeth, but they were a grayish yellow colour, and after a while it was all I could look at. So before leaving, I handed her a tube of Crest and slapped her on the ass. Good luck with the Chiclets I laughed, before she stormed away. Toothpaste in hand I might add. Ahhh life. So kooky sometimes.
Back in the car now. Boneless chicken, blue slushee, tawdry magazine all purchased for the drive back home at the general store. I love snacking on the boneless chicken. Slithery and chock full of protein. Can you tell I am even getting bored writing now?
Anyway, on to the good stuff. Checking the map, we realized on the way home was a place called Cape Schanck, another location Cheech, I mean Liz had recommended. I’d like to shanck you I growled at Steph. I am so money sometimes.
It was 3:30 when we arrived at the gate. Hud had fallen asleep. It cost $4 to get in. I said lets do it. Steph said lets go another time, during a winery visit (get out the balloons and kazoos for that afternoon of madness). I turned the car around and started to sulk. Which I am good at. 300 metres later, after me explaining to her that even if we just park the car and lean on the hood and look at the ocean it would be worth it, Steph changed her mind and we went back. Yay Steph!
Well, we are so glad we did. We were not able to park the car and see anything, so we wrapped Hud in his blanket and carried him to a lookout point with a small bench. Wow.
Another notch in the scenery belt.
The ocean, green farmland, a lighthouse, massive rocks and boulders, black sand and a boardwalk that led from the top of where we stood, right down to the ocean. This of course was unattainable as there was a kid asleep on my head.
But, again, life is blessed sometimes, because Huddy woke up and immediately snapped out of his grog. Who wouldn’t when surrounded by such beauty?
Sidenote: When Hud is nice and cuddly before bed, Steph will go to see him and he will say, unprovoked: “Mom, you’re beautiful”. So sweet.
With Hud now eager, we made the kilometer trip down to the water, stopping every chance we could get to bask in the luxury of our surroundings. This is why we took this trip we agreed, this is why we quit our jobs and sold our house. I could not even think about the other reasons as I watched the sun creep down the horizon line, reflecting off the forever ocean, silky purple clouds hovering beneath it.
This was exactly why.
The whole Cape Schanck walk took about two hours. We walked through a cove of grey rocks that were so smooth from being washed over billions and trillions of times by the waves. We climbed bigger, bolder rocks to get a better look at the gnarled surf as it crept closer and closer as the tide came in. We walked back up the stairs, not tired one bit, our bodies overloaded with vigor and spirit.
We got back in the car, all of us beaming, chatty as the laundrymat guy and the South African girl.
Steph passed me the $4 dollars as we approached the gate.
It was open. And no one was there.
Brilliant. We would have paid fifty.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 2:20 AM
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