Why does it always rain on me? (Hamilton Island)

We didn't expect this after the rain

It would appear that yesterday's beautiful weather was an aberration. Last night was a series of torrential rain squalls that were preceded by strong wind. And so began today until the island to our north was totally obliterated by low cloud and rain. Then as suddenly as it blew in, dear reader, it disappeared and the sun returned. The weather changes more quickly than we change Prime Minister. Which of course allowed us to maintain our pattern. Breakfast, a walk on the beach, back to the unit to plan the remainder of the day.

Today is our last full day here; tomorrow we are out at 10 and on the plane back to Sydney at 1:30pm. As a result of that full stop in our week we had already planned out today. I have a massage at 11:30 following which we will walk into the marina and sample a pie from Bob's Bakery. The afternoon will be spent sipping champagne and falling asleep on the verandah, being lulled by the waves and rustle of the palms. Dinner is pizza, delivered to our door. We have given up trying to get dinner reservations. That is the plan anyway, so we'll see how it goes.


First to the spa for my massage. It had the usual beginning. Welcome, come in, please complete this waiver that says in the event we kill you it's not our fault. The room is comfortable, an Ecoya candle burns in the corner giving of vanilla fragrance. The lighting is muted, there is relaxation-therapy music playing quietly in the background. It's easy to sink back into the chair and think you are being transported to a better place.

Now I wouldn't say the peace was shattered, not immediately, but everyone in the waiting room slowly became aware of something discordant, something that didn't fit. Two pre-teens were sitting on the steps of the spa, just outside the door, with their father. It was the bickering that first attracted our attention. Then they started whacking the steps with some plastic blow up toy and the magic serene feeling was replaced with tension. The tension we were all there to alleviate. Clearly their mother was on the other side of the spa rooms enjoying the last of her massage.

Dad was taking no interest in his miscreant off-spring until one clobbered the other with aforementioned plastic toy. Threats were issued, as hollow as a Scott Morrison promise. Nothing happened. The children became louder until tears from the girl-child resulted in forcible separation. She then turned her attention to the fountain.  Inaudible statement form father. Girl stares defiantly. Another statement from father as she calmly reaches forward and puts her hand in the water. Too late, Dad was on her before she saw him move and as she tried to run his vice like grip tightened on her arm as he uttered the age old line, "What part of no don't you understand?" Simultaneously drawing her to within cms of his mouth he whispered further threats through clenched teeth directly into her ear. There followed a few minutes of quiet before the Balkans erupted into war again. I was then called to the massage room. Poor woman, thought I, she will be emerging from inner nirvana into a maelstrom. I hope the massage was good because it's effects won't last long.

The Hobies were out for the first time

An hour later I floated from the massage room and returned to the unit to collect Jayne before our walk into the marina and Bob's Bakery. Up the hill and down the other side and along the waterfront, being mindful of the dodgem cars. Alright my astute reader, they are golf buggies, they are just driven like dodgem cars. In an unrelated observation, Jayne says that most of them are driven by women with the male as passenger. No further comment your honour.

The pies at the bakery are recommended. Not in the class of a Willis pie, but still very good.  The super large sausage rolls didn't rate. Too much carrot. We had lunch on the waterfront, enjoying a moment of sunshine. We punctuated the walk home by stopping for an ice cream at Ned Kelly's. No, that's not really the name of the store, but the prices they charge are highway robbery, $7.90 for a waffle cone with a sloppy single scoop of ice cream. The two ice creams cost more than lunch at Bob's!

The islands were not visible through the rain this morning

We were a little hot and bothered by the time we returned home and opted for a swim while the sun was still shining. While we were floating around in the Coral Sea, the weather did its thing and the island across the channel disappeared in rain and cloud. Time to make our way to the pool to rinse off the salt and the rest on the balcony and watch the rain that was surely coming. In other words, it's champagne time. The afternoon melted into evening as the showers came and went. We were serenaded by sulphur crest cockatoos and crows - such musical, lyrical sounds.

As relaxing moment dissolved into relaxing moment Jayne decided it was time to increase her heart rate by ordering dinner online. Forms are always a challenge, online ordering systems are an art akin to the highest levels of torture. It was a close run thing - the ordering process commenced at 4pm and the shop closed at 9:30pm, but she was successful. Order locked and loaded, red wine at the ready. It was probably time to contemplate one last lap of the beach. Too late, it's raining again, which brings us to today's title from 1999 by Travis.

And that is just about it from HI. There will be one more post sometime during the week to wrap everything up and share some final reflections. Otherwise, the next major event is August: Darwin to Broome on a cruise - yes I know dear reader, who'd have thought it? Me on a cruise? We shall see.

Until then ...

Life styles of the rich and famous (Port Douglas)

Yes, dear reader this post will cover both New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. Why, you ask? Well, nothing much happened aside from relaxing, eating and drinking. And today's title? Thankyou to Good Charlotte circa 2002. Well, somewhere in advertising they suggested that the rich and famous all end up at Port Douglas, so you may never know who you will see around here. My problem is I wouldn't recognise them. And if I did, hey, I'm Australian, so I won't acknowledge them anyway.

Following our big day tour of the Daintree and surrounds we thought we might have a chilled day close to home. Sunday is market day in Port Douglas so after a leisurely breakfast by the pool we applied sunscreen (yuk) and hats and sweated our way toward the far end of Macrossan Street where the market stalls inhabited the park. It was all one way traffic and, at one point, the path was blocked by people making a decision about whether they would enter a shop. As we stepped around the women, the man with them apologised. "Was that John Hewson?" Jayne asked. And yes it was.

The markets were remarkable by being unremarkable. Although they did have a slight FNQ flavour, I'm sure markets around Byron Bay would be similar. There were henna artists creating pseudo tattoos (for the sensible), tarot card readings, palm readings all the usual shysters. There were also massage therapists using crystals, hot stones and the like, and one stall offering Thai massage. It was quite open so I'm not sure how they ended the massage; perhaps not in the traditional Thai way. Not happy Jan.

There were the usual stalls all selling the same style of jewellery. The more noticeable one here was red coral, but sharks' teeth and crocodile teeth were also prominent. There were clothes, coffee, carved timber, an indigenous set up with boomerangs and the usual tourist draw cards. Not a lot of fresh produce except for it being squeezed into cups of juice or frozen, refreshing on a hot, humid day.

Being enticed to purchase nothing more than a cup of freshly squeezed OJ we turned back toward the main street and home, where once again we saw John Hewson.

The front of the hotel. The bar area.

Back to the hotel and the beach side bar to sit in the shade and enjoy lunch with a beer or two while I blogged, Jayne read and the day drifted toward fireworks. Yes, they have them up here too, one session at 8:30p.m. and another at midnight. I think fireworks might define us as Australian.

Post lunch and after a nana-nap (hey, it's tiring being on holiday), we went for a walk along the beach and watched a stupid tourist testing the theory about box jelly fish and crocodiles. Sadly for the gene pool, he lived, but perhaps only because his six year old daughter was becoming increasingly frantic with her cries for her father to come out, the further into the water he went. Watching the Osprey catching fish was far more interesting and there were several games of beach cricket being played.

The Low Isles

By now it was time to dress for dinner. We ate at our hotel because we hadn't got around to booking anywhere else. This was fine because the food here is great, the wine inexpensive and the view to the Coral Sea (with breeze) in interrupted only by park and trees. The meal was lovely: a massive antipasto plate for entree, followed by perfectly cooked rib-eye fillet. I didn't need dessert, but i had it anyway and then thought I was going to explode like Mr Creosote of Monty Python fame (google that one kids).

The 8:30p.m. fireworks were going off as we went to bed and I heard the midnight fireworks as well as the illegal ones later in the night. Happy new year dear reader, I hope you have a wonderful 2018.

The new year dawned as has every other day since we arrived in Port Douglas. The early morning cloud burnt off quickly and the forecast storms have been pushed back another day. After the regular breakfast by the pool and new year chats with family on FB Messenger, we ventured into town to secure dinner for this evening. There was no guarantee as to what would be open or closed on New Year's Day.

We walked down to ANZAC Park where the markets were yesterday and which was also a prime position to watch last night's fireworks. Against all advice, in the water, up to his armpits was a man fishing. Clearly he was a local. Really? Have I been conned all this time about the dangers of being in the water up here at this time of year?

After pointlessly waiting for the fisherman to attacked by crocodiles or box jelly fish, we walked across the park to book for dinner at On the Inlet, the next on our recommended list of restaurants. Except they were not open. No note on the door, just closed. We then set out for our next choice, Salsa, except, stupidly, I believed my geographically challenged wife and turned in a direction away from the restaurant. So, Watergate, the next choice was located using Google. Dinner booking assured, we returned to the Court Hotel for refreshments and to phone my brother and wish him a happy new year.

It was pleasant at the Court, except for the Gen X people next to us who found it impossible to speak at normal volume. I kid you not, I could not hear what Jayne was saying when they were in full flight. At this point my beer was gone and it was time to replenish supplies so we moved to a different part of the beer garden where we could speak to each other without shouting. A cheese platter and a bottle of French rose was now the plan. Executed well.

Back to the hotel for some pool time and a nap before a beach walk and dinner.

Dinner tonight was at Watergate. Curiously I didn't see Nixon or Woodward and Bernstein. However, every other American in the country was there. Not that there is anything wrong wth that. I guess they would be drawn to a place named Watergate.

The restaurant is totally cool. It is a mixture of indoor and outdoor, bar and restaurant. The smell of citronella, which I assume is burning in each of the torches, pervades the air . The citronella and the indoor ceiling fans keep the mozzies at bay and also cool the place down - well the fans do, the torches add to the ambience.

This place has an eclectic menu and is seriously worth visiting. You can choose from meals with crocodile, cuttlefish and prawns for entree through to kangaroo, duck and fish for mains. Believe me, it is a lot more interesting than I have stated here. And tasty. Oh, yum.

And that is probably enough for today. I'm exhausted just eating and drinking my way through the day. Until tomorrow.