Advertisement
Published: December 22nd 2005
Edit Blog Post
In the never ending pursuit of parity with its larger and more cosmopolitan neighbour (Grafton), Yamba has acquired its very own Target store. OK OK, I will fess up, it’s actually a Target Country. I’ve never been quite sure why companies insist on demarcating their stores between their country and suburban outlets. It’s as though us country folk wouldn’t understand the shopping experience that is Target if we didn’t get it spelt out with a country indicator. The same goes for Bi-Lo. Why is it that us country residents have to shop at a supermarket named after an Asian man of questionable sexuality while everyone else in the world can make do with Coles? And one last question, why the hell does Marrickville have a Target Country when you can catch a bus there from Bondi Junction (centre of the known universe)?
Enough questions. You can tell that my downtime in Yamba is giving me ample opportunity to ponder the world.
I have escaped the clutches of Sydney’s eastern suburbs and am enjoying the wonders of Porpoise Spit (aka Yamba).
My last few days in Sydney were hectic as I packed and made my goodbyes with everyone.
The crowning glory
BiLo and the Big Prawn. Yamba's answer to Ballina, get a big prawn and stick a crown on it. Jo threw me a wonderful dinner with Carl and Angela where she even organised twenty minutes worth of fireworks over the harbour. Unfortunately I had to share them with the partners of Mac Bank amassed on the other side of Rose Bay but beggars can’t be choosers and all that.
My last day of work was really great. Alessandra and Niamh pulled out all stops to ensure that my final memories of the AAT were happy ones. Always one step ahead of the crowd, they even organised for Peter and the carpet to be farewelled and welcomed respectively. A top effort! After a morning tea of champions (Glenda made these chocolate-caramel biscuit things that are amazing) and saying my goodbyes we all headed down to Coogee Bowlo for a spot of lawn bowling. Pitted against Neil and Alessandra I thought my team of Glenda, Cameron and myself would be unbeatable. However, genetics beat pure talent and we were summarily wiped off the green (Alessandra’s grandmother was bowling champion of the world while Neil’s dad bowl’s every weekend at St Ives Bowlo).
Mum arrived on Saturday to pack my stuff in the Ute and drive off to Yamba. Before
Crackerjack
AAT Bowlers - but no whites in sight. I did that I went to Kazza and Amy’s “tracks of your life” BBQ. Everyone that came had to bring CDs with all of their favourite (or poignant) songs of their life. At the party we all swapped CDs and listened to everyone’s discs. With only two people having the same song on their compilations (Ah Toy and Therese had the same soppy Crowded House number) it made for an interesting afternoon. Kazza was all dance (“It began in Africa-a-a-a-a-a”), Ah Toy was eclectic (from Kermit the Frog to Custard) and I provided the standard hip hop holiday (Jay-Z versus Scribe, what a combination!).
So now I am in Yamba. Yamba has two benefits. It’s hot and it's by the beach. Unfortunately these two benefits are its two pitfalls as well. It seems that every old person in NSW, VIC and TAS are attracted to Yamba because it is - wait for it - hot and by the beach. However, in one of life’s great ironies or mysteries (you tell me) they complain bitterly about the heat and spend more time in Yamba Shopping Fair, snaffling up tickets in the Lions Club raffles, than anywhere near the pristine beaches
That's not a knife
Neil shows the ladies of Coogee Bowls Club how it's done. on offer. Old people EVERYWHERE. I feel I’m aging in spades just by looking at them. The only thing that seems to calm me slightly is seeing them buy meat at Mum’s butchers. That’s right old folk, fill the coffers! As an aside, first prize in the 2005 Yamba Lions Club Christmas Raffle is a wheelbarrow filled with 25 1.5 litre bottles of spirits! I thought it was such a good prize I tried to buy a ticket, only to be told by the guy selling them that I didn’t need to because my mother had bought some a week ago (oh the joys of living in a small town). (Although that seems an odd thing to say now, I'm thinking his heart wasn't really in fundraising today).
As a further aside, I came home to find that Mum and Lindsay (her butcher husband) have posed in a nude calendar that aims to sell the delights of Yamba’s local businesses. To see a published photo of one’s elders standing naked in front of a steaming BBQ on the 9th tee of Yamba Golf Course is an experience that everyone must endure at least once…
Advertisement
Tot: 0.073s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 14; qc: 56; dbt: 0.04s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Nigel
non-member comment
Missed out!
Man, I missed out on all the good Sh!t! Booger!