New Boots and Panties
I wish I could say that the last bit of my journey was uneventful. Everything was fine until we got to. Melbourne but then the wheels came off. During our 6 hour layover a light-fingered thief made off with my wallet - I reported it and the police were able to watch the whole thing on the CCTV playback......sadly they were also able to use the CCTV to track their progress onto a flight to Dubai taking them safely out of Australian jurisdiction.
I now have the interesting challenge of running a 4 week trip with no credit cards.
Bugger.
Still, at least it can't get worse......or so I thought. You know that awful feeling of watching the baggage carousel as the number of bags coming out gets fewer and fewer? And then how, at the last moment, out pops your bag? Well I only had the first bit.
Bugger.
The wonderfully charming and helpful (not) people on the baggage counter tell me that my bag is still in melbourne and may, if I am very good and stop telling them they are incompetent idiots, be reunited with me this evening. Hence the song (ok, yes, it is technically an album title not a song title but you really don't want to start picking nits with me today!!!). I suppose really it should be New Toothbrush and Panties but nobody seems to have written such a song.
So apart from being penniless and clothesless everything is tickity boo. I have the rental car. THE Love Machine (see Specific Coast Highway entries) had the fair and flawless complexion that only girls in the first flush of womanhood can attain. THIS love machine has clearly been round the block a few times and, even with heavy make-up, is no oil painting. When the guy had finished marking up the sheet showing all existing dents and scrapes he had run out of ink and the sheet looked like the result of a frantic session with a Spirograph.
Since all of the above excitement I have had 13 hours sleep, bought a toothbrush and taken care of several bits of preparation, the most important of these being the purchase of a folding chair. This one only has one beer...I mean cup...holder but at four quid you rally can't complain.
The guests start arriving tomorrow....hope I have some clean clothes by then,
I now have the interesting challenge of running a 4 week trip with no credit cards.
Bugger.
Still, at least it can't get worse......or so I thought. You know that awful feeling of watching the baggage carousel as the number of bags coming out gets fewer and fewer? And then how, at the last moment, out pops your bag? Well I only had the first bit.
Bugger.
The wonderfully charming and helpful (not) people on the baggage counter tell me that my bag is still in melbourne and may, if I am very good and stop telling them they are incompetent idiots, be reunited with me this evening. Hence the song (ok, yes, it is technically an album title not a song title but you really don't want to start picking nits with me today!!!). I suppose really it should be New Toothbrush and Panties but nobody seems to have written such a song.
So apart from being penniless and clothesless everything is tickity boo. I have the rental car. THE Love Machine (see Specific Coast Highway entries) had the fair and flawless complexion that only girls in the first flush of womanhood can attain. THIS love machine has clearly been round the block a few times and, even with heavy make-up, is no oil painting. When the guy had finished marking up the sheet showing all existing dents and scrapes he had run out of ink and the sheet looked like the result of a frantic session with a Spirograph.
Since all of the above excitement I have had 13 hours sleep, bought a toothbrush and taken care of several bits of preparation, the most important of these being the purchase of a folding chair. This one only has one beer...I mean cup...holder but at four quid you rally can't complain.
The guests start arriving tomorrow....hope I have some clean clothes by then,
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