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Published: January 6th 2008
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Today was the first morning that Jake and Mia (the 2 year-old twins) had actually made their own way out of their bedroom on their own without the guidance of either Jason or Lisa. Their timing was impeccable; it was Christmas Day.
The fun started at around 7:30 a.m. with the kids opening their presents. It would be a typical (but for us, far from ordinary) family Christmas with toys everywhere and non stop eating. Sam and I could both sing the praises of each of our mums when it comes to a plentiful and tasty Christmas dinner but this was different. We were spoilt for choice as the traditional English roast and Australian seafood (courtesy of Lisa and her mum), was fused with other delights brought in by members of Jason’s family who’s origins include Italy and Greece. Arguably, most important of all, was the lighting up of the good old Aussie barbeque. It was a gorgeous day, and having Christmas dinner outside wearing t-shirts and shorts was just how I imagined it would be. As the man of the house, Jason kindly relinquished his rightful place at the barbeque for a moment so that I could fulfil a request
It's Christmas!!!!!
Little Mia getting help from mum Lisa with Jake close behind and dad Jason just sneaking in. to act out that famous Aussie saying and ’throw another shrimp on the barbie’. With surprise presents from Lisa, Jason and the twins, from the moment Christmas Day started to the last gut busting portion of Lisa’s mums homemade Christmas pudding we were made to feel part of the family by everybody. In fact apart from the beautiful weather, it really did feel home from home.
As a direct result of my festive gluttony the previous day, Boxing Day morning saw my top button resemble a fragment of shrapnel as under immense pressure and at great speed, it left my shorts.
For Boxing Day we joined Lisa, Jason and the twins on a mini Christmas break. I jumped into the pick-up with Jason, whilst the twins had to put up with Sam and Lisa in the family car. Jason and I would be towing his speedboat, a sleek and compact boys toy, smarting a glittering red paint job with the name ’Ostentatious’ printed in yet more glitter (silver this time) down the side. We were off to a place called Yarrawonga, some three hours drive away.
The a man-made, Lake Mulwala is situated at Yarrawonga, created in the 1930’s
Christmas breakfast.
And bucks fizz of course... when a weir was built across the Murray River. It separates Yarrawonga in Victoria, from Mulwala in New South Wales. A road bridge was built prior to the filling of the lake. The two respective governments started construction from either end, and a slight dip and bend in the middle remains a lasting testament as to what happens when two parties even with the same goal don’t communicate. Like any relationship that has a bump in the road, I’m sure both blamed the other at the time but laughed about it some years later.
The lake itself looked very bizarre, and could have been the backdrop for a Lord of the Rings set. When the low lying area was flooded all of the gum trees became waterlogged and subsequently died, but their skeletons remain. I would imagine an early morning mist could like quite spooky here. The lake is now a tourist attraction for fishermen and the boating and waterskiing fraternity, a playground for the ’ostentatious’.
We stayed on a campsite in a holiday home belonging to a friend of Jason. We were surrounded by other family’s that both Jason and Lisa knew and had brought their boats and family’s
You'll always find me in the kitchen at parties...
But not always dressed like this!..........Oyster in one hand, bottle in the other. to spend the Christmas period having festive fun by the lake. They were a good crowd who made a couple of ’pommies’ feel very welcome. With my English accent and shaven head they labelled me a stereotypical football hooligan. I didn’t want to disappoint them, but at the same time it didn’t seem appropriate hurl a bottle at them while they sat having dinner either.
There was very much a clearly defined split once down on the lake. The men, returning to their teenage years, would be on the lake waterskiing and generally working off excess testosterone. Occasionally this would be interrupted by satisfying the kids with a ride on various inflatable contraptions. The women meanwhile, sat chatting and soaking up the sun on the banks of the lake. Occcasionally this would be interrupted by feeding the kids would had enough of inhaling the lake water.
I had my first attempt at knee-boarding, which turned out to be quite a strain on the arms, shoulders and stomach muscles. From resting on the board with you elbows as the boat pulls away you then have to bring your knees up onto the board before attempting to get upright to the kneeling
"Throw another shrimp on the Barbie"
...and then get back in the kitchen and do the washing up!!" position. All this of course whilst holding on firmly to the handle on the rope that’s attached to the boat that’s dragging you increasingly faster through the water. What could be easier? The problems came when after failing to get to the kneeling position and loosing the board from under me, I would for reasons unknown, continue to hold onto the handle as if my life depended on it. My potentially shoulder dislocating struggles would provide entertainment for the Aussies on the boat, who’s laughter would increase the longer I held on.
Not wanting to remain on dry land like all the other Sheila’s Sam joined me on a biscuit. A ’biscuit’ is a large inflatable disc with handles, big enough for two adults to cling to. The idea is to stay on and enjoy the ride while the person ‘driving’ the boat towing you attempts to throw you off. Unbeknown to us Jason had instructed Dave (who’s boat it was) to give us a tough time.
Not having considered it before, I was surprised to witness that someone could actually laugh for fifteen minutes non-stop whilst having their face jet washed; but Sam seemed to manage it with relative
Melbourne
From the observation deck. ease. Dave said afterwards that he could hear her over the noise of the engine, although he couldn’t tell if it was screaming or laughter; he continued anyway. After managing to stay on the biscuit over waves and several quick turns, we were finally dispatched during a wide arc that produced enough centrifugal force to remove barnacles.
Whilst in Yarrawonga we also celebrated Lisa’s birthday, when plenty of alcohol and cake was available for those without children; me and Sam basically.
After a few nights in Yarrawonga it was time to head back to Melbourne. On the way we rented a film to watch that night called 'Wolf Creek'. Directed by Greg McLean and inspired by the ‘backpacker murders’ in the 1990’s it’s become somewhat of an Australian cult movie. Some young travellers embark on a road trip from Broome to Wolf Creek National Park, where they fall victim to Mike Taylor (John Jarratt). While their fate was taking a stomach-churning turn for the worst and with Lisa, Jason and the twins already in bed, Sam and I sat there thinking it was a good thing we’d not seen the film prior to arriving in Oz otherwise we may
Flinders Street Train station
Like Portsmouth and Southsea, but better!! have never left Perth.
Our time with Lisa, Jason and the kids was coming to an end, and we’d enjoyed it immensely. We had a morning wandering around the beach town of St Kilda with them all, and then whilst Lisa’s mum looked after Mia and Jake we drove into Melbourne with a few of Jason’s family for a farewell drink.
So the time had come to say our goodbyes as Lisa delivered us safely to Melbourne airport. I thanked her for her generosity and hospitality and then she and Sam had one of those horrible final hugs that tug at the heart strings of best friends that live half a world away.
So 48 days after flying into Sydney but then leaving for Perth without so much as a glimpse of what she had to offer, we were now heading back for a two week stay, and one thing was for sure - with our first day being New Years Eve, if nothing else, there was going be FIREWORKS!……………………….
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