Scotsman Robin's an old friend of the Kulas since 1971. Today he works for Adobe Systems in San Jose, California.
The sky shows a mix of blue, bright orange and grey colours. Promising. After checking out and leaving the car in the underground carpark we can't resist another coffee at the Greeks. A leak at the club and we brace ourselves for the run past Sydney and the Gong.
On the F1 the traffic is packed at 110kph. We pass a B-Double lying on its side in the median with bunch of blokes gathered around it scratching their scrotums (or is it scroti). What to do? What to do? Entering Sydney we turn into the F3. In the city the cars are bumper to bumper as far as the eye can see backwards and forwards, but the flow is surprisingly smooth and fast paced.
Just out of Sydney a small truck in front of us disappears into white, rubbery smelling smoke then swerves out of it revealing a sedan that has come to a dead stop. I manufacture my own squeals and burning rubber in a mix of blaring horns and violent steering in the wall-to-wall traffic. Once again the good Lord has spared us. A glance in the rear vision mirror shows the vehicles have rearranged themselves back into neat platoons. Crikey Nora!
My heart is pounding. Gladly we turn off to Stanwell Park.
For a while we watch hang-gliders and paragliders launching themselves off Bald Hill and landing on Stanwell Park Beach. On this beach there is a small
Greek café where we enjoy home cooked bean and lentil soup served up by an ample bosomed mama. It was on this beach in 1894 that Lawrence Hargrave conducted groundbreaking experiments in aeronautics with the use of box kites. The knowledge gained in aerodynamics was subsequently utilised by the Wright brothers resulting in their success in 1903.
Souped up we turn into the Lawrence Hargrave Drive approaching the new concrete Sea Cliff Bridge that is 665 metres long. It's a gracefully curving road built out over the ocean away from an unstable cliff-face. "It's Darryl, it's Darryl, stop" yells out Ruth as some galah jumps out from the kerb in front of us waving arms. Too late, we are out over the water. Seconds later we see Sue walking along the footway attached to the bridge. It is only at the Bulli Pass that Ruth manages to make contact by mobile. The Rickeys are staying at Thirroul with Sue's bridesmaid for a couple of days.
A slightly leaking dunny gets us a discount at the Kiama Motel where we have a close view of the beach from our window. It's nearly dark, cold, raining but a group of surfers are riding the wind and rain lashed mongrel waves. The services club provides us with aperitifs after which we enjoy selecting fillings for our sandwiches for tonight's dinner.
It has been a long day so we have an early night. During the night I have one of those eye-popping coughing fits that I fix up with a honey and milk drink. Peace at last and the clocks are striking thirteen.
Page design © 1996-2006 Robin Mills / email@example.com
Last Modified: Sunday October 15, 2006