Sunday, September 16, 2007

The holiday of 1000 wineries

10 March, 2007

So, here's the complete and utter story about my trip to Margaret River. Rather than giving you a long monologue (nb. it would be a dialogue if you answered back!), I thought I'd just point out a few stories of my trip. Cos, let's face it, a plane ride's a plane ride, so woop-de-do.

However, a plane ride is significantly different to the usual if you rely on those little skinny wheelchairs to get anywhere. I got to sit across the aisle on the plane from a fella who also needed a skinny aeroplane wheelchair and who "used to be a busy man, but then [he] hurt [his] spine at work, so now [he's] nothing" (THANKS VERY MUCH!!!!- SPEAK FOR YOURSELF).
So, this fella decided to contribute to society by owning greyhounds.

Oh, did I hear all about those greyhounds. Four hours of listening to the greyhound stories. Even when I was pretending to do research, the distant hum of greyhound tales (get the pun?!) was in my ear. And golly, did he love his greyhounds...almost too much (if you get my drift, nudge nudge, wink wink). And, because this particular airline doesn't carry skinny chairs onboard, I couldn't get away! At one stage, this fella (and I don't actually know his name) saw me looking at some research statistics, and asked me to calculate some odds for him. The odds of him being intimate with a greyhound - I'd take 50 cents each way if I was you.

So I land, and Michelle picks me up....and drops me at Subiaco to entertain myself while she went back to work. My last blogs tells the story of the bike man, so I'll just tell one story about Subi here.

I meandered into a bookshop, and saw the spunkiest man I'd seen in a while. I thought i'd sidle up and ask him to reach a book for me (as an audition to see if he was capable of reaching my top cupboards - remember, not a euphemism!). So, I sidled on up, tilted my head to the side, batted my long eyelashes, smiled....and then I noticed the book he was holding - "So, you're about to become a father", which, by default, put me in the "so, your about to pop a sprog" section!! Yeah, that aint gonna work!

Cut my losses and ran!

The next day, Mich, Nic and I wandered down to Margaret River. Only a 4 hour wander from Perth. Many, many tree tops on the way, and approximately 2132423543453442342423432 power poles to see if you're too short to see over the dashboard.

Pretty place, Marg River. It was a little like Torquay and Anglesea, but the water was on the wrong side.

I was going to tell you the story of the slimy spa, but you might be eating, so I'll leave that for now.


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