| Moreton island day 4: twilight kayaking |
[Nov. 15th, 2009|07:07 pm] |
so after the day touring the island we had booked a twilight kayak to the wrecks. kayaking is much fun, and enjoyed it even if i was a little slower, but you soon get into the stride of it and it's quite relaxing or medative in a strange way.
( lots more pics )
 |
|
|
| moreton island holiday day 3 part 4 |
[Nov. 11th, 2009|01:50 am] |
yes , still on day 3 loads of snaps to go through this day , we did a few things :]
so after the whale watching tour walking back off the jetty and what do i see, beach segways !
yes im a big dag , I would totally ride one of these
( more under the cut ! ) |
|
|
| whales! |
[Nov. 9th, 2009|09:59 am] |
3rd day.
cant recall doing anything else that day with out photo evidence, so I think D went for an early morning swim, and we made salads and generally just watched out over the beach from the balcony. at 12:30 we went on a whale tour (one of the last of the season)
going past the small township of cowan cowan on the way north of moreton for whale watching
( cut: heaps of whale snaps )
day 3 TBC ... |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 6th, 2009|02:24 am] |
приснилось, что я обладаю супер силой. не просто что то необычное, а серьезно и с размахом.
и супер злодеи, и супер помощники, и заголовки газет, и толпы зевак, и радио передачи, и прослушивание служебных частот, и скрывать правду, и костюм, чтобы впору, и погода всегда хорошая, и ограбления банка, и бандиты, и опять злые люди, и моменты на грани неудачи, и поцелуй красавицы, и полицейские что благодарят, и помогал всем и каждому, и стоял на самом высоком здании, и смотрел на город с выжидающим взглядом, и голова кругом, и, будучи на земле, вспомнил, что я умею летать, и что все не успеваю.
приснилось, что я обладаю супер силой, даже, скорее, супер сила обладала мной.
ладно. все это чепуха.
вот я проснулся.
я ловлю.
photo © ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) letchikleha
вообще, я хотел сказать, что главное не супер сила, а проснуться вовремя.
ну вот завтра я опять просплю.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 5th, 2009|03:18 pm] |
из очевидных.
выздоравливайте.
чем бы не болели.
при сомнительной поддержке.
 |
|
|
| The Last Barbarian - part 3 |
[Nov. 4th, 2009|11:15 pm] |
The next morning.
Bluey showered. He put on his cleanest black t-shirt, combed his moustache, and used some of his mum's deodorant. It took him a while to work up the courage to make the call.
"Hey," he said, when Scottish Joe answered.
"Oh look! It's Muhammad Ali."
"Yeah. Sorry about that."
"So you fucking should be, mate. I'm trying to help you here."
"I know." Bluey coughed. "We still on?"
Joe sighed. "I'll set it up. You're at your mother's place, right?"
"Uh. Right."
"Then I'll pick you up from there about eleven."
Bluey killed the time practising. Then a car horn beeped outside, and Bluey ran out, Fender still in hand.
"You won't need that," said Scottish Joe. "This is strictly meet and greet."
"Singers talk," replied Bluey. "I play bass."
They drove to a 50s themed cafe. Bluey carried the bass in with him.
"Down the back," Joe said.
And for a moment Bluey faltered. The new band didn't look like glam rock. They looked like cockatoos rolled in gelati.
There were three of them. They looked up, and Bluey caught the fear that flickered through their eyes.
That's more like it, he thought. He sat down in their booth.
"So. What sort of music do you poofters play?"
"Bluey," Scottish Joe said, "Meet the Japanese Peaches. This is Simon, Kaz and Max."
One of them was a girl, Bluey realised. They all wore so much makeup it was hard to tell.
"No," she said, turning to Joe. "He's not the one."
"Bullshit. I'm the best bass player you'll ever find."
The girl eyed him coldly. "Who's your favourite band?"
"Black Sabbath. Yours?"
"Gary Numan."
"Never heard of him."
"You're not helping your case. Why do you want to play with us?"
"The beer and groupies. Why do you want to play with me?"
"We don't." She turned back to Joe. "He's too old. His look is all wrong. Sorry, but he's just not for us."
She was right. Bluey must have been ten years older than these children. They still had pimples under their glitter and hair dye. And whatever music they made, it would be a thousand light years away from Bluey's beloved hard rock.
But they were a band. And bass player without a band was just a loser sleeping on his mum's couch.
"Look," he said. "Let's jam."
"Jam? Why the hell would we jam?"
"Because we're completely wrong for each other." Bluey paused, getting his words straight. "But are we just wrong wrong? Or are we so completely fucking wrong that we're actually right? Only way to find out is to jam."
There was silence around the table.
"I like him," the one called Simon said eventually.
"Yeah," said the one called Max. "Fuck it. Let's jam."
The girl glared at her two band mates, realised she was outvoted, and slumped back into the couch, scowling.
|
|
|
| Moreton Island, Day 1 |
[Nov. 4th, 2009|07:20 pm] |
we were up early for our pick up from the YHA and bussed out to the wharf to get the boat to Moreton island.
my expectations for the wharf were a little high, expecting I'd be able to get a coffee or something at least, but it was merely a few plastic chairs lined under a tin roof. near the boat mooring "wharf" on the river bank. hmm.
( cont. under cut. & lots of pics ) |
|
|
| The Last Barbarian |
[Nov. 3rd, 2009|06:32 pm] |
Back from the holidays. I'll write a proper post about it soon, but it was great to get away. I've brought back a horrid cold from Queensland though, so I've spent the last few days snoozing and reading The Great Gatsby.
And writing.
It's been a barren year on the writing front. This time last year jan_event and I were joking about NaMoWriMo - National Moustache Writing Month. Twelve months isn't too long between updates, is it?
( The Last Barbarian - original section )***
The bouncers threw them both out. Scottish Joe stormed off. Bluey found another pub and kept drinking.
He was good at drinking, and good at drinking alone. He propped himself at the corner of the bar, sunglasses on, and give off this don't-mess-with-me vibe. Then he drank a beer for everyone who ever loved him, a whiskey for everyone who ever did him wrong. The more he drank, the longer the second list grew. The band. The record label. His ex-girlfriends. Scottish Joe. The Japanese Peaches, whoever they were. Each shot was a little "fuck you".
Around nine o'clock, a cover band started playing and Bluey drank a whiskey for each of them too. Cover bands were the lowest of low, in his opinion, the final admission of failure. Bluey may not have a band at the moment, but at least he played his own tunes.
Sometime after midnight he staggered home to his mum's flat.
She'd left a note for him on the kitchen table: HERE'S YOUR DINNER, PLEASE DON'T MAKE TOO MUCH NOISE. He had to blink to read it.
Dinner was cold lamb chops and boiled vegetables lying in a puddle of congealed fat. His mum was a terrible cook.
Bluey ate it anyway, wiped the grease from his moustache and rinsed the plate off in the sink. His mum had made the living room couch up with blankets and a pillow. Bluey sat down on it, shucking off his boots.
I'm thirty-two next year, he thought sadly, staring at the framed family photos on the wall. The last barbarian of rock and roll.
The Fender was tucked away under the couch. He slid it out carefully and balanced it on his lap. It was a beautiful thing, black and curvaceous. Bluey played the riff from "Bat-Winged Woman", one of the band's early songs, and the heavy strings purred beneath his fingers.
He loved this bass. He loved playing it. He loved feel of it, the smell of it, the scratches and the dents on it. It was the one thing that had never broken his heart.
The toilet flushed in the bathroom, and his mother tottered in wearing her nightie.
"You're home then, Bluey," she said.
"Shit. Did I wake you?"
"Nah. Had to pee. Get your dinner alright?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
"Good day?"
Bluey shrugged. "Scottish Joe wants me to join this new band."
"That'd be good. Get you out of my hair," she said, affectionately.
"Yeah."
She bent down so he could kiss her cheek, then she tottered back to bed. Bluey fingered the riff over and over.
He wanted to play bass again.
He wanted to be on stage again.
Bluey put the bass away and lay back on the couch. Fuck it. He'd call Scottish Joe in the morning.
He was going to be a barbarian again. Even if it meant playing in some poofter glam rock band.
|
|
|
| Brisbane |
[Nov. 2nd, 2009|10:01 pm] |
we spent one day and night in Brisbane before heading over to Moreton Island.
hadn't been there before so we wanted a bit of a look around.
got to the YHA which is really nice for a backpackers place, well set up and pretty new, recommended if your doing a cheap nights stay in Bris.
after dumping our stuff we went for a walk, over the bridge to go past the galleryies and museums, where we stopped for some lunch, but we're feeling a bit tired and too fuzzy headed to go in and look at art, so we walked a while and found southbank and a walkway and followed that, and then walked back along the shore, and across the bridge to the city centre/ through the malls and then back around to the YHA.
we then had to do grocery shpping as we self catering on moreton island and were being picked up early the next day.
that night we went out for tea, and it had just started raining, and went looking for a indian food place I googled and thought was close but it was coming down hard and couldnt find it, So we found a thai place and went in (and it was really yummy food) and we watched the thunderstorm while we ate. we got a little wet going back to the backpackers but it had eased up a bit.
I only took a few snaps on our walk
snaps of Brisbane set on flickr
I've added some comments to them as well, if you click on the pics. |
|
|
| home |
[Nov. 2nd, 2009|03:14 am] |
home from almost a week away on Moreton Island.
it was nice island but, it's a Brisbane resort and seems to be a place for familys, and retirees and japanese tourists, and the weekend is blokes on fishin' trips and teens camping and drinking.
the food available was basic pub grub type fare, and so glad we were self catering so we had something other than chips and salad to eat.
we discovered when we got there, that there were no diving charters for D. and that was the biggest suck of the place . well that and the lack of Dugong spotting (the two reasons we went there in the first place)
there were cool dolphins though, and we did some other activities after spending the first few days wondering what we could make of the place after all.
many pics and recapping later. now need to sleep and get used to being back on daylight savings time again . |
|
|
