The Art Form Of Sitting

hello kids far and wide,

so it would appear on looking back at the last few weeks that besides my (highly amusin) koala joke, i havent written on this thing for ages. which means we have no track record of anything weve done besides kadys non-sensical torret-like ramblings. super.

well.....in the short time that we have been absent, me and kat have become fucking lazy. yeeeeah sure, we drove round a sandy island and suuuure we winched some sails on boat and ran a bit on the beach (nooo have done that for a while), did a bit of diving and swimming and shit. but now it would appear that the goon (Australias answer to lambrini) has finally kicked in on the ammune system, and all we can do is sit.

the precise location of the sitting varies from time to time, location to location, and every now and then differs in company. Obviously to avoid extreme sunburn and sunstroke we have to shift position in a westerly direction hourly, but the exertion of that is compensated for by another hour of sitting.

since returning from the good (though vomitful) ship boomerang, we have learnt of this very nice place called 'the lagoon'....location: Airlie Beach, on the street, behind the supermarket.

the beloved lagoon...

the lagoon (which if you are super clever you can remove the first two letters and find another form of liquid we spend a lot of time with) is a large public water type thing, where we have spent many an hour sitting (or lurking) in the shallows with a motley collection of people (ok, boys).

da motley crew. cute arent they?

when i say motley collection i mean a bunch of traveller types from london (saaaaaaaaauffff innit), auberry Australia (yeah, i dont know either), Sydney and Ireland who are only travelling together coz noone else wants them. but many many a laughter moment whilst migating between 'in' lagoon and 'out of' lagoon. the days are hard.
broken by the odd ice coffee from said supermarket, but little else

evening time approaches and the maximum amount of movement is undertaken: the great migration from lagoon to hostel terrace.

welcome to the jungle that is magnums!!!!

this involves the enormous task of crossing the road (keeping my eyes diverted away from neighbouring and ever present pie shop), walking up three steps, through bar with again ever-present man-on-guitar-pissing-all-off-by-blocking-view-of-cricket-on-telly (apart from me and kat coz we couldt give a shit), thrrrrrooough the jungle that is magnums hostel (remembering to keep left or you will get lost, no lie)....and to the terrace of small hut like room. and thats where we sit with loud and lairy london boys, insane irish, life-confused australian until the time should come to return once more to lagoon (after sleep)

terrace. home to many a sit.

and that is the average day and how it has been for....shit i cant even remember.

however, the time came (in form of Andrew 'Veg' Venables and his car offering life south) to leave our little gaggle of undesirables and begin the vast trip down the coast once more. it was a sad moment leaving the hut (specially as we'd sacked off paying rent and just slept in with the boys) and the lagoon and the terrace and clancys pie shop, but we marked our departure with macdonalds for breakfast before MAMMOTH 10 hr car journey. Company for said journey being Venables (mate from uni for all who are unsure of this strange new character), venables' mate farrell, and a very odd and small canadian man (no, i correct myself, boy) by name of Theo. Or Jim.

it was sweaty. and hot. and there were lots of trees and one token dead kangaroo. but not much else. we were not hounded by woman demanding to know our taking on chicken salt, nor chased by police. but we did eat two large packets of crisps. possibly the journeys most eventful moment. part from that, we sat a bit more.

now here we are, in Hervey Bay, the only town in the whole world which has everything you need but nothing is open. total-shutdown happens at 6 o clock (convientley timed with 5 very hungary travellers). there is buggar all here (well probably, but havent left pool so dont know), and we are waiting for the boys to get back from Fraser so we can get a lift to Brisbane. Till that happens, we sit.

this has been lynds. over and out.

written by

lynds-n-kat on December 20, 2006 from Airlie Beach, Austria

from the travel blog: Lynds and Kats red-carpet-tour of Australia

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