The Beach

On Boxing Day (which has nothing to do with pugilism), aka Dec. 26th for all non-Brits, Cate and her family brought me down to their beach house in Mandurah, about an hour south of Perth. (Yes, just about everyone in Australia lives near the coast, but apparently not everything is a beach house.) Her extended in-law family is here as well. I spend my days reading books, going for walks by the beach, riding a bike up the shore (which is on the wrong side here, so when I said I was going to ride south today, I actually went north), and eating. Eating, eating, eating. I now know what it must be like for people who visit us in NH. Lots of time to do whatever you want as the family buzzes around you, and meals served about every three hours. Life is hard.

John (Cate's husband) took me fishing the other night. We headed out into the nearby estuary and caught a bunch of tailor (known as bluefish at home). Man, fishing is dead easy. John puts the icky bait on, I throw the line in, reel in a fish, John takes it off and sets me up again. Then John fillets all the fish and cooks them and I eat. Look at me, I'm a fisherman!

Last night he took me (and his sisters and nieces) out crabbing. That involves going out at dusk, walking in knee deep water next to the boat (he actually had the boat TIED to him, and was towing it around) with a basket on a stick to grab the crabs. These are not the nice little crabs I grew up torturing in NH. These are big suckers with claws that stick way out to the side when they get mad (like when you come at them with a basket). And you are walking around in the mud (which sometimes sucks down as you step) and seaweed, and they are all around. Periodically you hear "BASTARD" as someone has their ankles nipped. I was good for about five minutes, and then happily passed my basket back and clambered back into the boat with the kids.

I did finally get into the water (not just crabbing) yesterday when we all went to the beach. The water was lovely, the waves huge, and oh, right over there is a dolphin. Seriously. I boogie-boarded for a bit (for the first time in about 15 years, I think), caught one really good wave body surfing, I spent the afternoon trying to get sand out of my nether regions.

Aussie's are funny about the sun. I imagined them as all having brown, leathery skin, and all worshipping the sun (getting my information from such movies as Strictly Ballroom and Sexy Beast), but no. SPF 30+ suncream for all here, and if you have a bit of a tan, you get scowled at by your relatives. I guess in countries where sun is a constant rather than a luxury, they are a bit more careful about their skin. (In Thailand, they advertise "whitening" cream, whereas at home we have tanning cream.)

One last note before I get booted off the computer (for my hour is up here at the library)... There are cockatoos and parrots who just fly around wild here. They are lovely to see, but their birdsong is not terribly melodic. Somewhat similar to a three year old enthusiastically (and loudly) imitating a crow's caw. Not my favorite.

(By the way, I have yet to be offered any shrimp from the barbie yet. They don't have "shrimp" here anyway, they have prawns.)