What an interesting day. Started at the crack of dawn (even before the kookaburras began) ,dragging my weary body out into the crisp chilly morning, and loading up the car with treated pine stands and tough trays for delivery to the Gold Coast. Man,they are heavy! My car was groaning up the hills and I could almost see the petrol gauge racing towards empty because of the load.
Delivery done, I headed for the hills….the Blue Mountains in fact. With true crime podcasts, lots of loud music, coffee, water and snacks, I thundered down the Highway without a care in the world. The ever changing scenery went from green forests to farmland, and at one stage, I felt I could have been back in Andalucía. Wish I had brought the She Wee coz I don’t like using public toilets. I think I have mastered the subtle side of the road pee in the bushes now though – had to!
I am now in Narrabri, famous for its wheat, beef and cotton. Cotton balls line the edge of the Highway and the fields are a sea of white swaying in the breeze. Sunflowers grow randomly along the edge of the Highway, and everything is so pretty.
I decided to stop in Narrabri so I’m now laying on my bed in the hotel. It’s only 7.30 and I can already hear old mate snoring next door through the paper thin walls. I went downstairs earlier and found my way through the ocean of flannelette and baggy tracky dacks, to the bistro. (Wish Gonzalo was here for this trip). The pub is run by an Indian man whose accent you could cut with a knife. I could barely understand him so our conversation was hilarious. Every time I looked up, he was there….behind the bar, the reception desk and then the kitchen. He is tall and lanky and it made me think of Faulty Towers.
There was nowhere for me to sit, so Basil raced out the back and grabbed a table and chair, and plonked it ceremoniously in the middle of the room, proudly making the grand gesture of pulling out the chair for me to sit down. He gave me a knife, fork and napkin, took my order and raced into the kitchen. I could feel everyone staring at the poor woman who stood out like dogs balls at her table for one in the centre of the room. Suddenly he was there again, and in true Basil fashion, with a final flourish, proudly placed a romantic candle on my table!
I was thirsty, so I went to the bar to get a drink. The barman, who looked about 12, didn’t know what a lemon, lime and bitters was and actually started to sweat and panic. I settled his nerves by asking for a Sprite instead and he shakily told me that he was new and only knew how to pour a beer. Guess that’s probably standard around here, by the look of the clientele.
I thought with this experience I should go all out, so I ordered a Parma with chips and it was delicious. Now laying on the bed after a walk around town, getting ready for an early night so I can hit the frog and toad again early in the morning. Yep! What a time I’ve had today!