Day Thirty Nine

Last night, the tour guide of the group that had just got into the hostel sat down beside me and told me about the time a redback spider had bitten his dick whilst he was peeing into a long drop. He paused, then did a kind of double take and said he couldn’t believe he’d just told me that. He left shortly after.

Yesterday, we were swimming in Bottle Bay in 42*C heat and today is shaping up to be another scorcher. I am, for once, managing to get a tan but my arms seem to be turning into the consistency of an old lady’s leather handbag regardless of the amount of moisturiser I’m a- slathering. But as I’ve now got some banging freckles going on, I’m happy.

Wednesday March 10th, 2010. Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

Day Thirty Seven Later

Sent this and the last post by loitering in the pitch black behind the hostel leaching free wifi off a neighbouring house listening to Ace of Spades, Motorhead. The mossies have gone up my trouser legs and there is a distinct rustling sound to my right. Off to go squidding now (well watch it anyway)…

Monday March 8th, 2010. Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

Day Thirty Seven

Today my desk is a restaurant table in Monkey Mia opposite a blue sea that is almost glass watching dolphins play in front of me with the occasional tail flip. It’s eye smartingly hot again as there is no breeze to speak of and I’m wearing the least amount of clothes that could cause offense already. Went out on a cat this morning to spot sealife. We weren’t very successful apart from a couple of turtles the boat nearly ran over, some sea snakes and a pod of juvey male dolphins but it was so good to be back out on the water. Actually sailing completely scares me witless, but the cat didn’t do any tipping, so I didn’t have to sit on the rim on the boat trying to balance it back from an impossibly steep angle so I wasn’t almost dunked so I actually felt quite happy and enjoyed the whole thing. Until the skipper’s mate said that cats do tip (but luckily there was no chance of it happening that trip).

I really need to go for a wee but the sheer effort involved is really putting me off.

Monday March 8th, 2010. Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

Day Thirty Six

A strange man walked into my hostel appartment yesterday as I was laid out on the sofa reading and asked me if I wanted to have a look at the python in his pouch. Luckily it turned out to be a euphemism for an abandoned joey that the lady running the hostel was rehabilitating. He and the joey then left once I’d promised to give someone a message about some tiger balm and I carried on with my book.

Today my desk is the end of the jetty in Denham with the sun setting to my back watching my friends fish. So far they’ve not caught anything to eat for dinner but last night they had a feast of trevally and whiting. Three emus have just wandered passed.

Monday March 8th, 2010. Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

Day Thirty Four

Am on the bus to Denham and reading a fantastically bad Mills and Boon. Classic lines already include:

“A pair of tawny eyes flicked over her like twin tongues of lightning”

“The hot languor of his kiss was consuming her again, carrying her to a high precipice where the view was heady and there height was terrifying”

and “Isn’t every Floridian supposed to be an expert on oranges?”

and I’m only on page 26…

Saturday March 6th, 2010. Uncategorized. 2 comments.

Day Thirty Two

I’m having a slightly surreal moment. I’m on the bus to Kalbarri, it’s not even 9am and I’m watching Ghost on a big flat screen tv.

This bus goes through to Darwin; 60hrs of driving between two drivers. Barry, the driver who is not behind the wheel just now (that’s Mike), went for a kip in an attractive blue vest, stripping off his workshirt as he walked down the aisle. He came back to watch the end of the film still sans shirt before redressing to greet the new passengers, now there’s professional for you.

We’ve reached Cervantes, home of the Pinnacles Desert and my desk today is a brick ledge next to the Liberty Gas Station being windswept. Have already been to Cervantes, which is why I’m not stopping. Actually, have already been to Kalbarri too but it’s a good place to put your head down before travelling on to Denham.

I vaguely remember writing about travelling on Greyhounds before on my first Aus trip, about the woman in the seat in front of me who spent the whole of a six hour journey scratching the back of her head so that her scalpy scales fell onto my lap. About the 17yr old girl who decided to flirt unrelentingly with the 30 something driver, she sat next to him as he drove and they talked about her ex-boyfriends and his wife’s infertility making the rest of us on the bus squirm with embarassment.

Haven’t had anything quite as horrific this time. There was the woman who searched long and hard for headlice on her daughter, mincing them between her fingers when she caught them. There’s a lot of teeth sucking going on, really loud, intrusive sucking, enough to put you off your mini Babybell. Oh and there are the pubescent boys who spend rather too much time in the bus toilet which is vastly off putting when you’re desperate to use the facillities.

And now Barry has just given a rather graphic account to the whole bus of how the smell of an improperly flushed elimination in the bus toilet has just woken him up. Oh the loud scatalogical rantings of an old, vested man brings a smile to my face.

Nothing really that different to the Brighton-Charing Cross commute then.

Thursday March 4th, 2010. Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

Day Thirty

It’s so hot my eyes are smarting and it’s nearly bedtime…

Monday March 1st, 2010. Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

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