|[ White Goods ]
On my way home lies a stretch
of golden sand bounded by steep cliffs north and south and a long, low
valley stretching westwards. For nine years (and more) I've looked down
at this enticing bay and pondered uselessly about the ceaseless nature
of the waves - sometimes big and sometimes small but always pounding relentlessly.
So I got a shock when I travelled
past it recently and all of the standard rough edges were just gone! I'd
become used to the rollicking action, dammit! Instead the Pacific ocean
lay flat as the proverbial pancake with barely an inching ripple lapping
up upon a very, very tidy tract of sand.
In fact, it looked very different
indeed : No white foam - just glassy expanse. No churning swells - just
smooth, twinkling crystal. No typically brackish colours - just amazing
azures, deep greens and vibrant hued blues reflecting from the close sea
bottom. It didn't look like south eastern Australia at all - instead it
looked just like the the waters around Lord Howe Island in the Great Barrier
Reef or, more scintillatingly, those around gorgeous Capri.
And so my mind turned inexorably
to the day that we spent there (oh, so many years ago) when we'd hiked
around the town on the top of the hill and gloried at the views for ages.
Eventually we got off the tourist track and wound our way further upwards
along the narrowest footpaths I'd ever trodden, past beautifull villas
and the occasional vertigo inducing glimpse of blue from (what seemed like)
miles below. It ended at a tiny viewing platform hung out over a cliff
which I carefully stepped onto. Ofcourse the view, with all that glorious
blue, was more than magnificent and well worth the considerable amount
of puffing it took to get to it.
Right in front of the platform
was the last villa on the hillside. It had this same totally uninterupted,
magnificent view for now and forever more. I contemplated quietly to myself
for a secound or two and, instead of thinking about how lucky the owners
were (that came later after I turned back to Annette), the first thing
that came into my mind was - 'How did they get their goddamn washing machine
up here along those bloody small footpaths'. It WAS a tiring walk, after