Despite its proximity it has been some time since I have been to the South Coast of NSW. Actually, I guess it wasn’t that proximate for a couple of months when I was in Europe. And I think it may have been March but I like the vagueness of ‘some time’ which is like saying to someone who is expecting something (usually work-related) that it will be with them ‘shortly’. Wriggle room.
Taking a little while to drive
down into and under the clouds to Tuross Heads, this trip involved a few days
of diverse weather and sporadic friendliness from locals. But any trip that
includes two barbecues, two times fish n chips beside water, two rounds of golf
by the sea is fine by me. Come rain, hail, thunder, wind or shine.
Golfing was rather fortuitous,
not so much in the balls launched towards cliff top greens and plummeting down
to the raging waters below, but the relative lack of water coming from the sky.
And what a fine place to play Narooma Golf Club is, rekindling a desire to do a
bit of swinging more often. Helped by the solitary birdie, the muscle memory of
linksland chip and runs, and the whale tails flapping out in the ocean. All reaffirming
a vision of early retirement in Narooma.
The driving was pretty good, but
then I got in the car. Apparently Brisbane was suffering from super storms that
they had insufficient warning about even though I knew about the likelihood of
them two days earlier, despite clearly not living in Brisbane. But then how
many Newmanites even know of the Bureau of Meteorology or watch that rascally
left wing national broadcaster? Anyway, this all leads me to tell you that the
road between Narooma and Moruya also had such storms, though with less fanfare
and blame apportioning for acts of nature. Tuross itself having a burst of hail
that I was hoping would allow me to claim some insurance money on the car.
It didn’t and the birds survived
and the sun came back, briefly. Late end of day sun that provides vivid colour
and contrast on the beach, golden against a stormy sea sky and furious foam
capped water. Oops, did I leave my camera on black and white? Well, sometimes
yes. It must have been the influence of two subtitled French movies while
letting the rain pass that did it to me.
And so with more sun in between
rain, winds whipping up the coast, blasting sand onto intrepid beach walkers
such as myself, it was time to leave. I’ll come back some time, perhaps, if I
can be decisive enough, but not sure when. Until then, let the burgers reign
and the rain burger off.
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