Guy Folks and Myella


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October 24th 2006
Published: October 24th 2006
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Another day ... another horse. This was dressage day!!
Airlie Beach and The Whitsundays

When I left Townsville I had planned to hire a car and visit Jourama falls etc, but as it was the school holidays hire cars were really hard to come by - apart from Avis. The laws of demand and supply being what they are prices had rocketed - and Avis being what they are they had hired a slightly creepy guy to inform me of the rocketed price - so I decided this was more than enough omens to detract me from hirecars - that and my dreadful driving.

I booked the bus to Airlie Beach and who should I meet up with at the bus stop but Colette. She launched into a long spiel of why she was there - "hello" or "how are you" would have sufficed, but I do seem to gravitate towards people as self-obsessed as myself. When we got to Airlie Beach we chose the backpackers that supplied a courtesy bus and said they had beds available in female only dorms. At the hostel this turned out not to be the case. We stood there in grim silence until they suddenly found they could put us in a
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Airlie Beach - photo courtesy of Anne Marie
female dorm after all - is silence a powerful negotiation tool or was he just terrified of Colette who is 6 foot tall by the way? Who knows, it worked either way.

We spend the afternoon dithering over trips to the Whitsundays - so much so that Colette renamed us the Dither Sisters. This turned out to be far too apt - we finally chose somewhere at 5.58 - and the agent called the tour company only to find out it was booked. We then gave her our second choice - not booked, but in repair. Our third choice - the office closed at 6 p.m. and it was now 6.03. So she advised us to return the next morning to try for cancellations. The storm that AnneMarie had warned me about was on its way! I consulted the Backpackers Guide Book for Idiots - it is right there in the rules "listen to friends who take the time to do research". Luckily Colette, although as dithery as me, was also quite hot on research - so she had made us research all our options. Otherwise I would have found myself going to sea the next morning - and
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Whitsunday Islands - photo courtesy of Anne Marie
sailing for three days & nights in 30 knot winds! I still ended up sailing in those winds, but only on day trips - far less stomach churning.

7 a.m. we were back at the booking agent's office. Mantaray had some availability - as people had wimped out because of the storm. The agent assured us that this trip (a) definitely went to the long strip of Whitehaven, not just the tiny bit on the corner, and (b) that the storm was coming but would be gone in an hour. Later that evening I again consulted the Backpackers Guide Book for Idiots - and it states quite clearly "never trust anyone who is trying to sell you a tour". But we were half awake, there isn't much to do in Airlie Beach if you don't like drinking with football hooligans and we were easy pickings. By the time the boat set off it was pouring down. The crew of the boat were really friendly and chatty - Chris, Niamh and Thierry, but the skipper was a bit charmless - in fact it would be hard to find someone working in the tourist industry with less charisma or more antipathy
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Whitsunday Islands - photo courtesy of Anne Marie
towards his crew and passengers. The crew knew all our names within seconds. Captain Charisma called us all "young man" or "young lady" regardless of age - but at least he got the sexes right, you have to give him that. When addressing us all he referred to us as "guys" with alarming frequency. "Guys, I just want you all to know guys that today guys we are going to sail between Hook and Whitsunday Island guys and guys - it's going to get a bit rough out there guys".

It got very rough - and it was only a little boat. Luckily nobody got seasick and even moe luckily by the time we got to the corner of Whitehaven Beach (NOT the strip in the middle!!) the rain stopped and the sun came out. The sand was whiter than whiter than white - and the sea was blue blue blue - and so beautiful. Colette's long legs left me and most of the other passengers way behind plodding through the forest first to the hill inlet and then to the beach - although strangely enough she did manage to keep pace with the only single man on the
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Platypus
boat! He was german, young and blond - not my type at all, so she was more than welcome to him, I was far too busy enjoying the views. Blond german bloke didn't want to go in the sea - so Colette and I faffed around in the water - one of the waves took my swimsuit bottoms right off!! Luckily for me, and very unluckily for Colette, only she saw my fat white bum. That'll teach her to leave me behind. We laughed so much I nearly choked on the next wave. Colette and I were the last to leave the beach - we stayed about 30 minutes after everyone else. I have never seen a beach like it. How could you not want to just stay there?

We got back on the boat. Captain Charisma was nowhere in sight, so the rest of the crew were very relaxed and had a laugh with the passengers. The divemaster was French - and very very funny. When we went snorkelling, as nobody was diving, he took the people who couldn't or wouldn't swim out in the dinghy - and threw fish food right at me so all the fish
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Giant iguana running away from me - typical man!
were all around me. It was amazing! One time he looked at me with real concern and said "quickly, open your mouth". Like an idiot I did, thinking I had something wrong with my tongue, where I get these ideas from I don't know - but his voice had that 'obey now' urgency about it so I did. He threw a load of fish food in my mouth - I couldn't even swim for laughing. I can't believe I fell for that one. Everytime he made us all laugh Captain Charisma glowered, which just made it all even funnier. That night we were all in bed early in our dorm - we all had another early start the next day except for our new arrival - a very young Scandinavian girl. She went out drinking and came back at 11.30 and put all the lights on. She then came back again at 11.45 and put all the lights on again. At about 12.30 she did the same thing. I was on the top bunk, the light was right in my face every time, and I was alseep every time so the shock was not doing my heart any favours! The
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Pinnacle Valley, Mackay
third time it all got too much - I snapped the light back off and said if she did it again I would remove her arm from her body. In the dark it doesn't matter if you are a shortarse and really unfit - you can scare any halfwit and I just had. The light stayed off.

The next morning Colette and I had booked to go on a trip to the Barrier Reef. We had intended to wait and see what day one was like at sea - but somehow once you start booking, you just get sucked in. We stood at the bus stop in the pouring rain hoping the trip was cancelled with 4 other passengers, two of whom were equally apathetic about our daytrip. The other two were eager to get out to sea - they were Japanese and they hadnt paid up yet - if I had known this at the bus stop I would have sold them our tickets and gone straight back to bed. We went on a 3 hour sail to the reef in 30 knot winds. All around us people were vomiting. We all had queued up to buy sea
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Two little kookaburras sitting in a tree.
sickness pills. They made you read a health warning before you signed. What the hell - it was 30 knot winds, I didn't care if the pills gave me scurvy and a hook for a hand, I was taking them. Funnily enough it wasn't until you had paid up and were getting on board, "all monies paid non-refundable", that the crew were completely honest about how bad the storm would get.

Yet again when we got out to the reef the skies calmed, the rain stopped and the sun came out. The crew advised us to get in the water as soon as possible as they couldn't guarantee it lasting. We were straight in. The fish were amazing - but I was yet to see any turtles. I was out for about an hour - and got told off for swimming out too far. I didn't realise I had done it, I thought I was swimming near the second pontoon - and before I knew it I was halfway to Fiji. I paddled back to safety. I used to work for RBS - a few large fish and the possibility of a wayward shark were small fry in comparison.
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The nearest to a Hilton I'll get on this trip!


Later on I decided it was too cold to go back in the sea, so I went to the viewing chamber and for a tour in the semi submersible. Our guide was really informative, but like Captain Charisma addressed us with a similar overused collective - only this time it was 'folks'. "Folks, we are looking at the Great Barrier Reef, and folks if you look down you might see some turtles (we didn't). OK folks, in front of us we have parrot fish folks. Now folks their mouths have evolved into beak like mouths to chip away at the coral folks." She may have been repetitive, but she really new her stuff and it was a fascinating tour.

Throughout the return journey I fought sea-sickness. The crew were on stand-by for vomiting as they had been on the way out - plastic gloves on, sick bags and cold cloths at the ready. The aircon had been turned right up to help those who felt queasy. All the healthy people were freezing - but what did we care, anything that stopped you throwing up all over yourself and 50 people you have never met has to be good.
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Bearded lizard
When we got back we chatted to our little German friend who apologised for waking us - and said it definitely wouldn't happen that night - she then stayed out all night. Colette said it was because she was afraid of me - she didn't seem to give a monkeys so I seriously doubt it.

The next day was a relaxed admin and travel day. I got the bus down to Mackay whilst Colette headed off to Rockhampton and I met up with AnneMarie the Dutch girl I had already met a few times.

Eungella

On Friday AnneMarie and I tried to get on a trip out to Eungella National Park, but they were thin on the ground. Then we had planned to go to the marina for a drink in the evening as someone had said it was very nice. I went to get my camera out of my daypack and it wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere. AnneMarie came and looked too - but the camera was most definitely gone along with all my pictures of The Whitsundays. I looked for an hour, then I went and called everywhere I had been in Airlie Beach since
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Does my bum look big in this?
I last had it and the Greyhound bus company. No camera. I went to the police station - and the policeman was called Wayne - they nearly all are, and the rest of the men are Shane or Kane. Anyway Wayne asked when I last had my camera and I said 2.30 the day before. He asked when I had noticed it missing and I said 4 p.m. today. He raised his eyes and then started laughing - I had to laugh too. I had accepted I would never see it again - and I had only lost 4 days photos.

Our hostel in Mackay was odd, to say the least. More residents than backpackers - miners and construction workers. Apparently the miners coming in to work have pushed up the price of renting and buying property beyond the local salary - so aren't generally welcome. I can't understand why, I really enjoyed living under the same roof as sweating, farting, grunting, hard-drinking neanderthals. I am not saying all miners and constructions works are like that - but those ones were.

Saturday I bought my new camera - and you can see the amazing results!! Sunday we finally
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Sunset at Myella
got a trip to Eungella. We were the only two on the tour so we felt very privileged. Brian - our guide, told us all about the sugar and mining industries and the history of the towns. First we stopped for morning tea at the tour operators own bush camp - which they call Finch Hatton Hilton. Then we went to the Gorge. The water looked beautiful. There were quite a few locals in it - a lady told me it was only cold when you first got in. She lied. It was like swimming in an eski (a beer cooler). But the water was beautiful. Brian told us we would almost certainly see a couple of giant lizards - but they were having a day of rest clearly as they were nowhere in sight.

We went back to the Hilton for lunch. After lunch I went for a walk - and a log on the ground started moving. I realised it was an iguana - it was huge. If it hadn't moved, I wouldn't have seen it, it was amazing. It legged it up the nearest tree so I ran back to get AnneMarie. After this we went
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Collecting eggs
to the river to look for platypus - we only saw two but they are amazing little creatures. Apparenlty the first person to ever catch one had it stuffed (it was dead I hasten to add) and nobody would believe that he hadn't combined two separate animals.

Monday was another travel day - we went down to Rockhampton as we were both going to Myella farmstay.

Myella

Tuesday morning we were picked up early by one of the Myella team - Trevor. Trevor knew all our names, there were 5 of us on the bus, within seconds. We were impressed. We should have been - he was the only person at Myella with the ability to learn anyone's names, but once I got over being called 'this lady' for a week I had the best time of my trip so far.

Myella is 120kim west of Rockhampton. It is a working farm - they breed cattle for the meat market. They also take tourists for horse riding, motorbike riding and farm activities - such as collecting eggs, feeding hens, feeding horses, milking cows, all that kind of thing. They very thoughtfully provide clothes and riding boots
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One way to milk a cow
so you ruin their clothes and not your own and, best of all, huge fluffy white towels for all the guests. I shared a twin room with Nikki from Aberdeen who had more piercings than all of the Sex Pistols put together and was very entertaining. It was hard to believe she was only 19.

Within seconds of arriving, so it seemed, we were marched off to milk the cows. I didn't fancy my chances so I dithered for a few days before I would go near a cow. Then we were taken riding. Being a novice I was given a slow, gentle horse. Unfortunately for me his back was far higher than my head so I didn't feel too comfortable on poor old Doodle. Nicky took us riding and the entire group was quite experienced except me. I languished at the back - not because I am the shy retiring type, but because Doodle had only two gears - park and a death-slow plod. Everytime Nicky asked me if I was OK I squeaked 'fine' in an unnaturally high voice. Australians are not famed for their perception being a nation of people who say exactly what they mean
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Another way to milk a cow
so, having consulted my Backpackers Guide for Idiots, what I should have said was "NO". When the other horses stopped for water - I wouldn't let Doodle drink in case his neck turned into a water slide and I shot down into the water, I asked a few questions and got a little bit more confidence. Nikki and Kat were very good at trekking back to see if I was OK. Sadly my horse was terrified of Nikki's horse, so it was the only time he got his backside moving, but never in the right direction. I was so relieved when I slid down off him - and my legs were like jelly.

The food at Myella is lovely - and they warned us that we by the end of the week we would be doubling our portions. I am convinced that I will lose weight in Oz as I am so active, but with food like it was at Myella - this just wasn't going to happen. We had t-bone steaks, salt beef (I can't describe it, but it is lovely), beef meatballs, in fact every kind of beef imaginable. One guest was vegetarian and one only ate
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How NOT to milk a cow
chicken - so you have to question why they would come to a farm whose motto is "eat more beef you bastards"!! They also make and serve their own homebrew beer - Myella could well be heaven.

In the afternoon Shane taught us to ride motorbikes - even me! I told them how bad my driving was and not only did they let me loose on a 100cc motorbike but one day they even let me drive the Ute up to the sunset! I was so relieved I didn't crash it - but I did grind the gears a bit. Our motorbike lesson was really good fun. I was Shane's first pupil - although I had told him about my crap driving I forgot to mention I have the attention span of a goldfish. I did OK until it was time to ride round the training circuit. 5 times I missed the right turning - eventually Shane walked across and picked up the bright red cone which you would think would be difficult to miss - I was too busy looking at the gears, the brakes and the wheels.

AnneMarie left the next day as she is running
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Day out with the girls
out of time. It was the last time I would see her during my Australia trip so I was really sorry to see her go, but there were lots of friendly fellos guest arriving every day at Myella. They also had some resident miners and construction workers who were a welcome change from the ones we had met at Mackay - and were also often the only men present if the farmhands weren't around as most of the guests were women. Sometimes too many women under one roof is not a good thing - as I was to find out. I would have thought a farm would be a bloke's paradise, but one thing we all agreed on the only place you see male backpackers is party towns. If they can't drink and fight they just don't want to know. Surely some normal men must go travelling - and hopefully not the ones who do cross-stitch?

I had gone to Myella for a night and stayed a week. I like to think my riding improved but my driving definitely didn't. I gradually progressed from dawdling Doodle to Ginger. Ginger had a tendency to bite the other horses, but I
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Bottle tree at sunset
couldn't help noticing that he only went for the horses of those I got on with least well so maybe he picked up on my mood or maybe I just didn't reign him in firmly enough when it suited me? I didn't dislike any of the others - because you just don't know people well enough to form that kind of opinion, but there was one other guest I thought I might dislike given more exposure to her. She literally rode roughshod over all of us to ride next to whichever guide took us out for the day, had an opinion on everything, shouted the rest of us down at mealtimes until her voice was the only one heard and trumped every anecdote told or action taken. I was quite tempted to have two legs amputated just to see Miss Trump desperately attempt to have three legs amputated. And all this in a week when I was determined to practice tolerance - these things are clearly sent to try us. But I did last 6 days before I expressed my vexation so I thought that was an achievement. However I do think the main reason I liked Ginger so much
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A massive kangaroo - we kept a safe distance.
was because he went for her horse every time. I really did try hard with Miss Trump, I spent 4 days telling myself it was me not her, that she was more to be pitied (her life sounded deathly dull) and that she was kindhearted - which she was. But basically it wasn't all me, she was a bit of a fruitloop.

After Ginger I rode Whisky, strangely a lot of the Myella horses are named after alcoholic drinks - and these people go to bed at 8.30 so you have to wonder what they have for breakfast! I wasn't best comfortable with Whisky, but Kevin did take us cattle mustering. All the riding teachers / cowboys / jackaroos - whatever you call them at Myella were patient and very instructive, but Kevin was the best at building our confidence on the horses - and I had a bit of a soft spot for him. Who wouldn't want a cowboy! He also took us cattle mustering - we had to separate 10 steers from the rest of the group and transfer them to a different field. It was really good fun and when you were running after your steer
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Roo and baby (Scratch)
you forgot to worry about your riding so we probably all rode better that morning. Imagine getting that much excitement from running after a fat castrated male!

My best friend at Myella was George - the resident Gala bird. George had to have his wing amputated as a young bird and was adopted by Myella. He had the run of the place and would come to you rather than be at anyone's beck and call. He followed everyone around tweeting "hello George", "hop on George" "huh". Every day I did 30 laps of the pool and George sat on the gate to the pool to watch me. He was lovely. Whenever he ran after me I stopped to pick him up. I took him in the grass sprinkler to try and get him cleaner - but he hates water so he sulked for an hour and wouldn't come near me, but the minute I had some food he forgot about the water and was back at my feet.

My last horse was called Bandit - a huge (to me) black horse who I thought I did quite well on. We managed to trot finally and one day I
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Myella horses
even inadvertently had a canter - which is actually easier than trotting. I also finally managed to get the saddle and bridle on by myself, rather than stand and wait for it to be done. I always needed help getting on and off the horses though - that was the scariest bit. Particularly when I missed Whisky's saddle and sat on his backside - i have never moved so fast as I did to get back in the saddle. This was the day that Kevin left us for 3 minutes as one rider was still faffing around over the other side of the paddock. He told us all to stay put and not to move. By the time he got back we were in chaos - I was off Whisky as he was digesting a huge piece of string which I had to remove from his throat, yuk. The crazy german guy was also trying to do the string removal technique - but without getting off his horse, Julie and Alex had wandered right to the end of the lane. Only Nikki and her 27 body piercings were waiting patiently for Kevin as instructed. We were like 4 year olds!
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George in a pensive mood


I rode the motorbikes every day - but wasn't overly competent. One day I completely forgot Shane's clear instructions that you will go in the direction you are facing and looked down to change gear - a split second later I was on the ground with the bike on top of me. I looked round for my buddy - but the crazy German guy (who was actually very sweet and very funny but we all called him the crazy German guy) was long gone. By the time he got back I was on my feet and the bike was on its wheels with little damage to either of us - except for my hurt pride, sore knee and a considerable amount of petrol all over my shirt.

Towards the end of my stay Sabine and I went out on the bikes and found the dustiest road we could so we could whizz up and down and kick up red dust to photo each other. However much I thought I looked like a dainty, female Barry Sheen I still look like someone's granny toddling out on her scooter for her weekly shopping. My favourite pasttime was the chickens -
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Slightly less scary than the horses
I had never seen a chicken run before. They can really move and they were hilarious. They always headed straight for any polystyrene so we had to remove it all. They ate it even though it must have tasted vile and would expand in their stomachs and kill them. Why would you eat something so disgusting and so bad for you? I must ponder this one next time I venture into a fast food joint.

A couple of afternoons I totally withdrew from the group. Miss Trump was beginning to get me down and I just had to get away. Lynne, the co-owner found me things to do and chatted to me whilst I was on my own without prying which was nice because I couldn't even explain to myself why it was all driving me nuts. We got to talking about goals and I said I had none and worried that I would never find a career if I continue to lack direction. Suddenly Lynne was lit up with the enthusiasm of an evangelist and brought out all the folders of courses she had done on motivating herself and others. It was amazing and totally unexpected. Just as
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Getting ready to muster cattle
she had said, I do have goals, I just hadn't formulated them. Within minutes I had 10 goals. Lynne was really excited - like we all are when we meet a fellow lunatic and even offered to help me plan, but I think I should set my own plan - I am naturally lazy and happy to let anyone make my decisions if I can get away with it, so I need to do it alone.

My horse riding improved gradually over the week - although I hurt my back and Lynne informed me it was a pulled muscle. The good news is I am obviously developing muscles. The bad news - I just pulled one. I have never had a bad back before - sitting hurt, standing hurt, laughing really hurt - and as for wiping your bum - it was sheer agony. Don't screw your face up and pretend you don't wipe your backside - you do. I had just never appreciated how disabling a bad back can be. Luckily wonderful Myella had some kind of massage machine - you lie down and rest your feet on it and it shakes your whole body. They told me
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Myella toaster and kettle
it would make me laugh. I was in a lot of pain and my intolerance of others was growing with every second - but within a nanosecond I was laughing. It was amazing. It shakes you really well and when it gets to your head it is like a washing machine and shakes all negativity right away - it even made me feel sympathy for Miss Trump which lasted for 2 whole days! I also spent a lot of time in the pool which I think helped. One time I even offered to clean the pool. Peter, the owner, came and showed me where the net was, told me I should have a shirt on (the Aussies are really sensible in the sun unlike the tourists) and how to clean it - I thought for a minute he was actually going to stand over me and supervise, but he left me to pick up a few leaves and flowers and chat to George.

Sunday night was the last night for most of the guests there, so we were all de-mob happy and had a sketch evening where we all took it in turns to get up and do a
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Trevor taking the motorbike helmets for their daily walk
turn - I did the wide mouthed frog joke. The rest did poems, or card tricks. Sabine won hands down with her 'granny' - see the picture because I can't describe it. Poor old George was locked up in his cage for the night so he missed out, but he was the centre of attention all day so I am sure he didn't mind. We all used to compete for his attention, and I was quite smug about the fact that he didn't peck me - actually he did, I just kept quiet about it!!

I discovered that when I write I completely relax - so much so that my back didn't even twinge let alone hurt. Maybe I should write more? If you think this blog is bad you should see my diary.

So that was my week at Myella. And, as trite as it may sound, I do believe that people do come into your life for a reason. I have always lacked direction and now I feel like I have some kind of plan. Lynne kept on urging me to make plans for my goals - which was good because I was going to do
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Sabine and her granny
nothing until I finish travelling - which at this rate will never happen, so now I am working on them. As an inspiration she is a marvel.

Other than goal setting I learned to ride a horse, ride a motorbike - after a fashion. I learned that hens eggs taste like hens eggs regardless of where you buy them or how free range / battery farm the hens are. I learned that tolerance should definitely be one of my goals, although it will really take some work. I came away black and blue, tired and very happy. It was definitely the best part of my trip so far.


Next stop is Agnes Water and the town of 1770. Although there doesn't appear to be any accommodation and maybe I should have checked that before I booked the hostel!

Viv x





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Nicky and Trevor and their special moment
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Lynne cleaning up after dinner.


25th October 2006

Bahahahaha
man that was long....... but all very true. you have to get better pictures of me because they are all hurrendous! nice meeting you it was a really good week! Nx

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