Hola

Hello World! I have missed you, just a little. I think it's about a week since we last talked, but in all reality, I haven't actually done anything between then and now. The last 6 days have been spent on standby, and standby, and yet more standby.

One day I went to the city beach and chillaxed a little there, and also visited the Max Brenner chocolate café there. The thing that really got me hyped up at Max Brenners was the big vat of liquid chocolate churning away in the middle of the café. It was about 1.2 and maybe .75 of a metre diameter. Dependent on whether this entire space was full of gloriously gooey brownness or whether it was just a veneer, that is (or at least could be) an awfully massive amount of chocolate.

I'm not quite sure whether that sentence works, ya know.

I also bought a piece of chocolate while I was there, to determine whether all Australian chocolate was as bad as it comes across. It was okay really, no bad aftertaste, but neither did it have any depth to the taste. Anyway, enough on the subject of chocolate!

Today was spent down in Byron. I got up at a very unsociable hour (0620 in case you wondered), and drove to Morningside (South Brisbane) to join forces with DK, Steve and a couple of Steve's friends. Not much point taking more than one car for such a long drive.

It is incredible to me how long it takes to get 5 people going in the same direction - or even to get all sitting in the same car with the doors closed. In Byron we met up with a friend of Steve's (yes, another one) called Dominic, and that made it even worse. 5 unruly and unorganised people plus myself. I do not classify myself in that category as I really hate having to wait around for people and so in return don't like making other people wait around for me.

It took quite awhile to get everyone a surfboard and wetsuit, considering that one or two couldn't decide what they wanted, and indeed whether they wanted anything at all. Finally DK began to share a little of my frustration and we walked on ahead together. I don't know how far it was from the car to the beach but it probably only took 5-10 minutes, which felt like far longer carrying a beach bag and a bulky surfboard which although not particularly heavy was fairly unwieldy.

Then of course we arrived at the beach to find there wasn't any surf and so we had to walk all the way back to the car to try a different bay... At which point DK helpfully remarked that he had previously thought we should drive past the beach to make sure it was suitable before getting unpacked. Of course, he hadn't actually verbalised his thought at any stage before this point, so it wasn't a particularly useful comment.

And THEN, of course, we had to reload up the cars (Dominic had one too) and herd up the unruly people and put them back in their seats (a bit like trying to get wild sheep into a field) and then we drove across the point to the Other Beach. Tullow Beach, I think? At which point Steve and I ran down to the beach to make sure there was a surf. There was. In fact, it was like a different day there, fairly windy, pretty big waves (maybe 4ft?). Aaaand of course, it took a fair while to get the car unloaded agaaaain, and everyone organised agaaaain and blah blah blah.

Am I boring you yet? Yes? Good. You deserve to be bored, because I am bored, because I am in the car on the way back to Brisbane, and there is nothing to do, as Nicholas and Reggis (sp?) are asleep and DK and Steve are having a little aviation themed (who would'a' guessed?) conversation in the front.

We surfed. Just so you don't think I'm going to talk about getting out of the car forever. Even though it felt like forever, and still feels like forever. Yes, it also took a painfully long time to get back in the car and on the road to Brisbane.

So we surfed. Well. Steve surfed. Dominic surfed. DK caught a few waves. Nicholas and Reggis spluttered and choked and were swept in with the waves. And I rolled like tumbleweed up and down the coast line, often being dragged by my tow line, at other times hugging the surf board upside down, and at other times managinf to stay right way up until a wave got tired of me and vomited me up onto the beach. Not exactly surfing, but it was incredibly fun. The amount of adrenalin when you feel a wave pick you up as you paddle furiously, you desperately to stand - to kneel - to simply grip the sides of the board and hang on for dear life. Then as your fingers are pried relentlessly from their grip and you are thrown into the water, holding your arms over your head as there's no telling where your surfboard is - and then the welcome tug on your ankle which tells you your surfboard is ahead in the surf and isn't going to decapitate you. Welcome, that is, when it is not threatening to dislocate your ankle, or drown you, or both.

It was incredibly incredibly fun, and then we all ran out of energy and collapsed on the beach in a little pool of deadnessness, and slowly coralled ourselves into the car to Subway ourselves. Yes, that is a verb. Because I say so, that's why.

The afternoon wasn't fun at all because the boys decided we should go back to the little surf. FAIL.

And.

Now.

I am in a car on the way back to Brisbane and I am very tired, sandpapered by waves, bruised, salt-encrusted and overall, extremely happy.

And tomorrow?

Safety pilot.

Who'd'a known?