Some Retreat...

Took to the hills behind Coffs this weekend to celebrate our first wedding anniversary at a place called Friday Creek, which consists of a few comfortable chalets and a vineyard. It's described as a retreat and, as we were the only ones there and the weather started rather murky, it certainly was quiet and secluded.

However, only I could book a country retreat in earshot of an all-night rave. The pounding bass started at 6pm on Saturday and was still going when we left at 10am on Sunday. Bill Munoz, the Chilean immigrant owner, was shaking his head as we paid the bill. "I've called the police," he said. "I'm half deaf so I'm OK but my wife didn't sleep all night." The volume was remarkable as all the action was taking place in the next valley, over the ridge in the picture below. Doesn't seem possible, does it? Do you still have raves in the UK or are they out of fashion? Luckily, Friday night had been as quiet as the grave.

Teen Spirit

Running along the moonlit beach this morning (it's quite dark at 6am now), I was surprised by a number of luminous, long, oval shapes on the steep dune leading over the neck of the headland to Fiddaman's Beach. When I got closer, they turned out to be surf boards, carried by a group of teenage boys and girls, some wearing hoodies over the usual boardies and bikinis - there was a slight coolness in the air - which made them look even more spectral. Of course, they may have been up all night, but I can't help being impressed that they were up at all, and, while surfing under a full moon may be romantic, it's still not light enough to see anything that might be sharing the water with you. It needs a certain nerve.

What the Bloody Hell?

Yes, OK, I know you're probably all sick of this but I though it might be interesting to hear how the episode played out here. (Explanatory note: Aussie tourism ads. Used "bloody" in catch line. Banned from UK television. Poms all pompous prats. Get the picture?) I particularly liked this comment from the Tourism Minister, Fran Bailey:

"The regulators have clearly misplaced their sense of humour - and this from the country that brought us Benny Hill, The Two Ronnies and Little Britain."

I have to say, it seems a far cry from the studied seediness and open lust of Benny Hill and the sublime conceit of Daffydd, the Only Gay in The Village, to the use of the word "bloody" in a catch-line for an ad, but there we are, I've always had trouble seeing advertising as a higher form of art. What seems to have been lost is that not everyone here thought that this campaign was the best thing since sliced bread simply because "where the bloody hell are you", with the unspoken addition of the word "mate" is very much what one Australian bloke might say to another, so it does resonate...but the campaign isn't aimed at Australians so why the bloody hell are they using the phrase? And didn't anyone think to check with the regulator beforehand?

Anyway, the Government line is that it is a "cheeky" campaign, and, if nothing else, it's given them the chance to stand up for Australian culture and values, which always goes down well. The Queen's out here next week so no doubt they've lined someone up to give her another pat on the bum, just to bring home the point.

The final word on the matter comes from the queue in the Woolworth's bottle shop in Coffs Harbour: "They've banned the ads because it's illegal to swear in public in the UK." It's good to know the global village is breaking down all those barriers to communication.

A Change in The Weather...

I go away for a week and the weather goes to hell. This is what dangerous surf looks like at Sandy Beach and, yes, that's official - "dangerous surf" is a standard phrase in the weather forecasts. It's been raining hard all week, blowing a gale and we've had big tides as well. The rivers are in flood, a couple of towns are cut off and the farmers to the south of Coffs have had to move their cattle to high ground. My flight home yesterday included the biggest, stomach-curdling plunge I've ever experienced but, although flights are often diverted from Coffs because of wind or low cloud, we made it in. Several passengers, though, discovered they wouldn't be able to get home because of the floods. I'm sure it'll all be back to normal soon.

Another Day, Another Dollar....

Just in case you think life is all about lolling around in crystal clear water under a clear blue sky (see post below), I'm writing this in Parliament House in Canberra after a morning writing a speech about a new national cancer agency.

However, just outside the office window in one of the many courtyards, a splendid blue and red parrot is bouncing up and down on the branch of a shady tree. Across the small ornamental pond, three members of the ground staff are diligently pruning some bushes, all clad in the regulation elastic-sided work boots and baggy blue shorts and shirts. All wear broad-brimmed hats against the sun, though one has forsaken the usual canvas version for a rather racey patterned straw hat of his own.

Phone calls permitting, I'll shortly wander off across the Members' Hall to Aussie's coffee bar and sit outside under a sun shade with an espresso, surrounded by scrounging magpies. They're very vocal and melodious here though, as long-time readers of this blog will know, turn into arial assassins in the nesting season. There are two sides to everything.