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Published: January 3rd 2011
We jumped straight in to the sea on Christmas morning to bob around in the surf which was ice blue and deliciously fizzy and foamy like creamy lemonade soda. Arnaud played with his new body board and was very cute, and after a breakfast of French patisseries followed by bacon and eggs, he he, we strolled, read and lazed before firing up the barby for Christmas dinner. We had prepared a cool box stuffed to the brim with ice and James Squire beer (my favourite crisp hoppy pale ale) and lunch. Arnaud excelled himself again serving up a 2kg Snapper (the smallest the shop had left ) plump, meaty and charred with tender stem broccoli garnished with local fresh macadamia nuts which he had caramelised with lime and chilli. There was mountains of roast tatties with lashings of garlic and ginger, it was so good I lost the power of speech beyond saying ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm every two seconds.
In the evening on Boxing Day we strolled along a gorgeous almost deserted beach further down the coast. It had been warm and drizzling all-day and threatening thunder. The effect on the horizon was dark smokey grey which a texture like it had
been brushed on with oil paints, moody like a
Turner. I couldn’t capture this with my little camera. In the moonlight we watched lots of tiny crabs darting between their holes in the sand. They were so translucently pale, only just visible they were spheres of air whizzing by.
I was in the internet café reading a comment from dad about wanting to see a picture of a red back before logging off and heading back to Arnaud who was sitting on the bed in the van grilling the toast for breakfast. I looked up, froze, and said “you should leave the van through the back door”, gah, directly above his head was a harry the hairy huntsman. It was the size of my hand. It must have crawled in to the van when I was lazing on the bed earlier reading my book, the side door was open and we were parked next to a tall grass verge. So dad, here’s a nice picture for you. Arnaud has arachnophobia and was shaking when he had to catch it in the colander, hah hah.
We spontaneously decided to leave Byron bay as no one had called back about
work yet. We headed up the Gold coast toward Brisbane thinking we may have more luck up there. We landed for the night across the bay from ‘surfer’s paradise’, an alien looking metropolis, kinda creepy. Many of the beaches around here are how I imagine California to be, everyone is jogging or power walking wearing flash sports gear, unnaturally buff men posing in speedos and bronzing babes in minute bikinis hoping to be checked out or scouted.
Last night I was chuffed to see a giant toad and a brown owl on my way to the toilet.
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kathy
non-member comment
Wow!!
What an amazing Christmas....and your lunch was to die for. Find a man who can really cook....what a good idea!!! I enjoy your photos so much ...you have a good eye ...this must be the journey of a life time for you. Are you thinking of stopping to find a temporay home anywhere yet?....or still travelling for a while? My Cyristmas was very weird....as I had always gone to Devon to make sure mum had a christmas lunch on previous years ...so this year there was a huge void to fill. Next year ...I will fill my home with people i think ...thats what I would like on Christmas day. Onwards and upwards XX K