Yamba 2014 - Day 10

We both sleep well and long. It seemed warmer during the night and we have settled into the rhythm of this new life and new accommodation. Our late breakfast was taken in the sunshine.

Mid morning we drove into Yamba - Sue was unable to ride the bike with the onset of a mad swimmers head cold. Parking at Pippis Cafe, we walked out to and circumnavigated Lover's Point in delightful winter sunshine and the usual blustery breeze which seems to blow only there. There was lots to see in the colourful rock pools and yet another few examples of the teepees built from ocean debris which appear all the rage this year. One was so elaborate that it had a stone table and chairs. On Convent beach, a small crayfish lay abandoned by a retreating tide, fascinating the children who had gone their to splash and be excited by the cold water of the Pacific and the warm hearts of doting parents. The rock platform below Ritz St held more colours and critters a the tide gradually filled the cracks and crevices.

Up the ramp from Main Beach, we enjoyed at coffee at Pippis Cafe and then return to our digs and a BBQ lunch with Mandy's family.

Late into the afternoon, we returned to town for more of the chocolate decadence of Lattitude 29, before Sue went shopping and I went up the hill to the Pacific Hotel and some editing. It was the final instalment and the completion of an entry form as I submitted a play to the Playwriting Australia hoping for a place in a program to workshop it and brush it into stage quality.

Sue joined me for sunset drinks and afterward, we met the near full moon on the beach as the high tide rolled in. I had some fun with the low exposure, low light tricks photography courses had taught me, shooting the two of us in three poses in the one 30' photo. Afterwards, we dined at Sassafras on gluten free pizza.

I went home to write an application for arts funding of the Postcode Poets. Sue went home to snore.

Yamba - Day 8

This is all I can show
without getting  intellectual

After greeting and then farewelling the passing parade of family who were departing Yamba during the morning, the afternoon was spent on another road trip as Sue is yet to return to pedestrian speed yet.

Before lunch, we drove to Gulmarrad Public School, the setting for the Lower Clarence Arts and Craft Exhibition. In previous years I have submitted entries in the photographic section but I have cut back on such endeavours this year. The place was alive with little old ladies protecting their intellectual ownership from mean middle aged men who night rob them of their property with a camera. I had no intention of taking shots of the artwork or the photography but was somewhat surprised when one old dear turned storm trouper and all but frog-matched me from the grounds for being rude enough to snap her friend at a spinning wheel and catch her in the background. She insisted I should have asked and when I erased the picture and asked after the event, I was given a resounding no as she stood up to her full height of 4'11" and strutted across the room to brag about her efforts to a friend. The spinner, meanwhile, said she'd be more than happy for me to take another photo and that "Agnes sometimes goes off like that". By then, I'd lost interest and declined the invitation.

At the fine art room - and some of it was fine art - I had the camera slung behind my back ... holstered as it were ... but before more than a word could be spoken, Katharine, the border guard on duty in fine art, said she remembered me from last time, knew my name and my reputation and forbid me from taking any photos. This was all news to me, as I was fairly convinced I had never previously met Katharine. Perhaps, like a regular throng of others, she thought I was Rolf Harris and the bastard ply-board flogger had been giving me a bad name by stealing the intellectual property of crafty old ladies across the length and breadth of the Lower Clarence. More likely, dementia is now a membership requirement of the LCACA.

The quilts were impressive.

Earlier, as we arrived, smithies were demonstrating the forging and manipulation of hot iron into many useful and remarkably cheap tools. They posed for photos, clearly in a state of intellectual abandonment.

We continued out along the road to the small village of Brooms Head, a postage stamp which clings to the coast mainly because of the caravan park which occupies a two level line along the water's edge. The elevated lookout is on top of the head itself and provided stunning views. In little more than a month, the coast view we'll be taking in will be in southern France. Its still disturbing our minds.

Late, late afternoon

Heading north west, we were off with the ferries for lunch, eating late at the Ferry Park Gallery at the southern turn off to Maclean from the Pacific Highway. The food was delicious but over-priced. As usual, the gallery had a wide collection of art and crafts for sale from local artisans. My favourites were a wood carved stork bent drinking in perfect arc from feet to bill and a companion piece, a fairy wren.

We returned to Yamba via the shopping centre on the outskirts of town and then left the car at the flat and walked up to the Pacific Hotel for the sunset. On the way, I snapped a pretty rainbow over the ocean. I was on solid ground. With showers sweeping across the watery landscape, the ocean was in a variety of moods from bright sunshine to grey-out conditions. It was as stunning as it was yet again different.

Quiet night in tonight.

Yamba - Day 5

It might seem to readers of "Travels With Pete & Sue" that reporting on our time at Yamba is like recounting paradise. Today was a day which redressed that.

Sue has been feeling increasingly light headed for the past week. Since we arrived at Yamba, each day has been a little worse. At times, she has had to sit and wait it out but by last night, it was becoming chronic. This morning, things were worse again and nausea was now added to the mix. With things clearly deteriorating and in the light of other events planned for the day, I sought a doctor's appointment for her, believing the problem was a middle ear infection which was a secondary development from the bronchitis and sinus infection which had floored her two weeks earlier.

Finding a doctor proved problematic ... well, not so much finding one but getting past their receptionists. The first told me that her man was a locum and therefore didn't take appointments (what?) and the second reported that her man was only working half a day tomorrow but I could ring at 8:00am and compete with others for an appointment. I needed to be prepared for the fact that appointments were set aside for locals.

Frustrated, I resorted to taking Sue to outpatients at Maclean Hospital. They were unhappy that the doctors in Yamba were more hypocrite than Hippocratic but never the less did their very best. The hospital has relatively new facilities - very few scuff marks on the walls or door jams from wheel chairs and trolleys - and looked well resourced  in everything but doctors. The one doctor on duty was dealing with five patients inside the ER and five outside and it was remarkable we were able to leave inside two hours. The diagnosis was in concord with Dr Langston and Sue left with strong antibiotics and stimitil for the nausea.

Gibbens and Thomas clans

Despite feeling like an end-stage drunk but with more money in her pocket, Sue insisted on fulfilling a commitment to a family reunion which she had organised with Brian Thomas, the youngest of three cousins Sue and her siblings had grown up with on the Lower Clarence. Brian had bumped into us several times at Yamba and after apologising profusely, the pair of them hatched a plan for a lunch at the Pacific Hotel during which the families could get together. The common link was Brian's dad - David - being the brother of Sue's mother - Joy. Brian's sisters, Anne and Karen, were both there, as well as their parents, David and Marcia. It was all very friendly and pleasant, chatting and eating in the glass protected sunshine of the dining room and a group photograph was produced at the end as well as plans for future meetings. Karen, for instance, comes to Tamworth most years for horse events so Sue issued an invitation to stay with us.

All of this happened in the context of Sue feeling dreadful and deteriorating so we didn't stay anywhere near as long as either of us would have liked and instead made our apologies. By the time I got Sue home, she collapsed on the bed, a victim of her middle ear and the stimitil, which not only settles the stomach but also induces sleep. She slept the afternoon away

It was the intention that we host the Gibbens mob during the evening but this was also abandoned and instead I made Sue pasta with a tomato based sauce. She took her medication, ate half of the meal and went back to sleep. I watched the deciding State of Origin game, by myself, with the volume reduced to virtual silence. I missed my sons enthusiasm and noise. It had all the appeal of eating soggy cardboard and pretending it was mudcake. In between tries, I visited Sue by stealth to assure myself she was okay. In the end, I stayed sitting beside her for so long, just watching her breath and wishing my super powers included making troubles absent themselves from the ones I love, that I missed Cronk's field goal. I met the news with an appropriate shrug. There are somethings more important than football.

One day, I might say the same of cricket ... but that day seems a fair way off yet.

Better luck tomorrow ... maybe.