A Spot of Racing

We've been busy moving house the last week and a half (yes. yes it does take that long.), so i haven't had time to write at all about any of the fun things we were doing pre-move. But we're settled in now, thank goodness. Moving really is a pain in the ass.





A few weeks ago, (back when Sydney was sunny) we went to the races. The Autumn Carnival is extremely popular. There's always that ONE horse that gets everyones attention - this year it was Black Caviar, and yes, he did win. But the odds were too high to bother betting on him. No, we're risk-takers (i.e. the ones who lose all their money in one foul swoop). But it started out OK. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and champagne, i knew, was just waiting for to be consumed.









We put on our Sunday best - and looked damn snazzy if you ask me. Traditionally on Derby Day at the Autumn Carnival you dress in black and white, and who were we to buck the trends?








Turnsie and I wasted no time studying the form guides, as any serious punters would. We spotted some potential winners in no time...









....so we headed over to the pavilion to get our bets on. Let me tell you ladies, smelly gentlemen abound in these places. But i blocked my nose, slammed my cash down on the counter, and spent the next several hours LOSING ALL MY MONEY!!! I mean! How was it possible that i picked NOT ONE WINNER!! Admittedly, my methods were questionable. For example, i quickly found that just because a horse had a pretty name, it didn't mean it would win the race. Or come second or third, for that matter. Nor would a horse being ridden by a jockey who's colours i liked. Apparently there's more to it than that. Who would have known?










Some amongst us were lucky though. Jo raked in the big bucks...

...and Turnsie? Well he was happy with his 20 bucks. Onya Turns. (p.s. hold it the right way up next time.)

Here, we see one of the winning horses that i DIDN'T bet on:

...but i kept my chin up and enjoyed the sunshine anyway.

Actually, it may have been the booze (and not the sunshine) that kept me cheerfully opening my purse all day long, despite my losses...and i should point out that i did have a good chance of winning a tidy little sum earlier in the day had i NOT listened to my old friend Turnsie's "advice". There was a race in which there was only one female horse running. In solidarity, i decided I'd back her for the win, despite the bad odds. Until Turns told me that history was against me, with filly's historically not winning their races if they're the only female running. So i didn't place my bet, and she won. Thanks a lot Turns. At least you had the grace to look sheepish. BAH!

So - we didn't come away winners but we had good fun. And now that we're moved in life can go back to normal, thank goodness.

A Honeymoon Story (Part Two)

We moved on to our next resort on a day I was feeling…unwell, shall we say. I’m not sure if I’d gotton too much sun, or if I got some sort of 24 hour virus, but I really felt like crap and therefore probably couldn’t appreciate the amazing-ness of the resort until AFTER I’d collapsed onto the bed and slept for 6 hours straight. My impressions before that are hazy and consist mainly of the private mantra running through my head that went something like “Kill me now. Kill me now. Kill me now.” and so on.



But when I woke up, feeling a lot better, I took a look around and began to fully appreciate where I was. We were in the honeymoon villa, which was huge, and included its own private beach, its own private plunge pool and pagoda, and an absolutely amazing view. I’d woken up just in time for dinner, and we were happy to discover that the restaurant was just a good as at the last place. Which was lucky, because to get to Eratap, you have to drive a fair way out of town, and down a really long, really bumpy dirt track. The less we had to leave the resort, the better.

Turns out we really didn’t need to leave at all. There was so much to do so close to where we were. The great thing about Eratap is that its set on a really amazing peninsula, with lots of little islands and coves and beaches to explore without having to go very far. The staff organise different activities each day – whether it be a kayaking trip or a visit to the local village or a diving trip – but really, whenever you feel like doing something, you just give them a call and they’ll organise it. Apart from the owners, who I’m pretty sure were Aussie, most of the staff are locals who live in the nearby village, so they know the area well. They were really helpful when it came to figuring out what to do.

One of them took us on a kayaking trip around to the ‘secret lagoon’, somewhere even the locals aren’t allowed to fish, and then to a teeny tiny island on our way back for a quick swim (which I needed because hello, the sweat factor when kayaking in the tropics surprised even me.)

Another day we were dropped off by boat to another nearby deserted island for a private picnic lunch, just for us. The beach and the water was pristine, the most amazing blues, and we enjoyed a few hours swimming and drinking Tusker and eating baguettes and fresh fruit until someone turned up to pick us up again. It was BLISS.

Of course there was always plenty of time to do nothing. We had breakfast delivered to our room and ate it under our pagoda, taking in the view. We lounged around the pool, reading and swimming and eating lunch if we were hungry. We went snorkelling in the coral reefs just off our beach, before coming back and ordering more beer to sip in our plunge pool. Jo completely shaved his beard off and had a ‘Men’s Facial’ – and I remembered why I liked him with a beard. (Seriously, he looks like a baby. Its weird.) I had my nails and toenails painted. We had a private dinner served at our villa, complete with romantic lighting and free champagne. I mean. REMIND ME AGAIN WHY WE CAME HOME?????

Oh yeah, the whole earning money thing.



Folks - it’s a beautiful resort, and I would highly, highly recommend a visit if you’re ever in the mood for a wee bit of indulgence. And sunshine. And happiness. And marshmallows. (They had a bonfire night. We toasted marshmallows on the beach, amongst the crabs. I loved it.)

A Honeymoon Story (part one)

FYI, I’ve decided to break this up into two or three smaller posts. Much easier for you and me both.



In a post-wedding haze, we headed off to the airport at 6am. It sucked, in case you wondered, but no pain, no gain. After all the busyness of the wedding, it was nice knowing we had 11 days to ourselves to do nothing at all but eat and swim. It’s amazing how easily you can slip into what I call Island Life, which consists mainly of those two things, with cocktails and beer thrown in at any given hour. Jo ditched his watch as soon as we arrived, and before long, we really had no idea what time of day it was. When we were hungry, we ate. When we were tired, we slept. In short, it was fabulous.




We stayed at two resorts while we were in Vanuatu. The first was Erakor Island, which (as you can tell by the name), was, indeed, on its own Island. A 24 hour ferry service connected you to the mainland, and from there we were only about 5 minutes out of town (or as the locals call it, ‘town town’). Actually, we hardly visited town town at all – it was as you would expect, fairly dilapidated, with bad roads and a lot of slums. Still, I couldn’t resist the duty free shopping forever (just so you know, alcohol is CHEAP, and we made good use of our combined 4.25L limit) and there were markets and restaurants to try if we wanted. Mainly though, we drove through it on our way to somewhere else.

The resort had its own beach lagoon, so we spent a lot of time snorkelling and swimming, or laying back in a beach chair with a book and a cocktail (Erakor made the BEST Pina Colada’s I’ve ever had.) Unfortunately, Jo went a little snorkel-crazy on the first day and got what I describe as third-degree burns on his back. And I KNOW I have a penchant for exaggeration, but this was really and truly the worst sunburn I have ever seen (must be the Anglo skin). He had no choice by to suffer through it for a couple of days until the worse was over, but I did feel for him. I mean it was freaking hot, for one thing. We went in the wet season, so the humidity was pretty bad too, but we didn’t see much rain. On some days it was so hot it would have been a welcome relief, but most of the time, it never happened.

I ate fresh seafood like, every day. Lobster and the local fish, poulet, and prawns and squid. I’m a fan of crab, but they serve mostly coconut crab over there. It’s a local delicacy, but its also an endangered species, so I steered clear. Of course, everywhere we went, our resorts included, we encountered lovely locals. They seem a happy, friendly people, and we found they went out of their way to help us or answer any of our questions.



OK, yes, sometimes you see some gentlemen with bandana’s wrapped around their heads on the side of the road hacking away at something with a machete. And yes, you can vaguely feel as though your in Somalia during these moments. But the only reason they’re wearing a bandana is because its bloody boiling and their sweating like animals, and the only reason they have machetes is because the vegetation (fruits or vegetables or roots) they’re hacking at are pretty damn tough, and hey, they gotta eat. If a machete makes that possible, so be it.




Tipping is very much against Melanesian culture, but if we had a particularly good guide or staff member, we would donate money towards the village they came from instead, which is put towards the local school or fresh water tanks or other amenities that are needed. We did do a few day trips (which I’ll tell you about in another post), but our time at Erakor was mainly spent lounging around by the lagoon, swimming or drinking. Jo developed a deep and lasting love for the local beer, called Tusker, and Kava. Kava is drink made from a local root which has…lets say sedative qualities. It’s apparently almost drug-like, very relaxing I’m told, and he took great pleasure in sampling it.




The resort put on a cultural night, with dancing and singing and traditional food (kinda touristy I guess, but we enjoyed it), and with no TV’s on hand, we spent evenings playing scrabble or scattegories (What? You thought I’d actually discuss other after-dark activities with you?)

After having had such a good time at Erakor, we wondered how our next resort would stack up. But we reeeeeally needn’t have worried…

True Love and Betty White

Sometimes, i wonder about true love. Not because i think i haven't really found it, but because nowadays, there doesn't seem a whole lot of truth to the notion. I know this sounds weird for a newly married woman, but hear me out for a second. I have the same fears as everyone else - with so many marriages ending in divorce, and so many broken relationships all around us, its hard not to. Even when you think things are solid - it could be that they're not. That's the risk you take.




So i was thinking about true love, that special sort of love that stands the test of time, and i happened across a program called In the Actors Studio. The show has a different actor on every week, and the host will take them through their life and achievements in front of an audience of students studying to be actors themselves. This week, the actor was Betty White.




I'm not sure how much you know about Betty White. These days, the name is synonymous with The Golden Girls, or The Proposal, or that Superbowl ad where she's playing like a granny on the field 'till she takes a bite of Snickers. But actually, she had a very long, very illustrious career in television, way before the Golden Girls ever was. And although she'd been married before, it was through television that she met her husband Allen Ludden. They were together 18 years before he died - the love of her life, she's said. After he passed, she never remarried.





So I'm watching In the Actors Studio with Betty White, and the host's last questions to her is "If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say to you when you arrive at the pearly gates?"




Without missing a beat, she answers, "Come on in Betty, here's Allen."




I'd be lying if i said i didn't get a little teary. Because THAT'S the point. It's real. It exists. And when you're lucky enough to find it (like i have been), you really do carry it in your heart forever.

Honeymoon reading

I know I haven’t even gotten around to telling you about the ACTUAL honeymoon yet, but it’s worth noting that I managed to take in nearly 5 books in 11 days, which is a damn fine achievement if you ask me. Since I know y’all rely on me for fine reading material, I’m going to tell you about my three favourites.



First Comes Love, then Comes Malaria by Eve Waite-Brown


I came across this book via a blogger who does A-LOT of reading. I’ve taken up a few of her recommendations in the past and always enjoyed them, so I had a feeling this one would go down well too. It’s a memoir, a true story about Eve’s own experiences in the Peace Corps and beyond. She marries her Peace Corps recruiter, and they take off to Uganda for 3 years, where she must adapt to life in the middle of nowhere. The book is both hilarious and poignant, and I sped through it really quickly. For some reason I have a thing about books set in Africa (a continent I’d love to visit one day), so this really appealed to me.



Finny by Justin Kramon


This is Kramon’s first novel, which definitely makes me keen to see where he’ll go from here. Chronicling 20 years, it follows Finny from misfit teenager to steadfast woman. That’s pretty much the basis of the book, which doesn’t sound too interesting on the whole, but I’m sure you’ll love Finny as much as I did. Her whole life she’s been in love with the same boy, which forms the centre of the storyline. But there’s a whole cast of other people who make recurring appearances in Finny’s life, and you find yourself really wanting to know what happens to them all. For a fairly slim volume, it covers a lot of life’s major lessons – love, disappointment, death – but for some reason it all seems very fresh and snappy in this book. The dialogue is great, but it’s definitely the characters that make this book a winner.





The Lotus Eaters by Tatjana Soli



This is a chunkster, but all I can say is WOW. Set during the Vietnam war, this book completely and utterly immerses you in Vietnam during that time period. It is SO evocative and beautifully written, which means you really do begin to think and feel like the characters do. Central to the novel is Helen, a photographer, who becomes obsessed with both the war and her lover, fellow photographer Sam. And then there’s Linh, Sam’s Vietnamese assistant, to whom she feels a strange pull. The three of them push the boundaries to get THE shot, that one, cover image that will tell the whole story of a wasteful war. While Helen and Sam become consumed by the war, almost addicted to it, Linh’s dark past means he only wants to escape it. Honestly, I loved this book, that’s all I can say. Probably one of my best of the year so far.

New shoes (Or, I Love My Husband)

Friday was a bad day at work. Really bad. Like, tears and hysterics bad. Like, why do I even bother to turn up every day bad. Like, is it time to resign bad. Which was a shame because I was really looking forward to my weekend, and I didn’t appreciate ending the week on such a low note. I knew I had dinner out with David and Mel that night, so I plastered a smile on my face and soldiered on. A few king prawns and a glass of wine later, I was feeling a little better. And it helps to be around funny people who know how to make you laugh. Still, on the drive home my stomach felt heavy and I the thought of going back to work on Monday, even though it was a whole weekend away, really, really depressed me. I went to bed in a funk and woke up the same way. And then my completely wonderful husband produced the very thing that made all the badness disappear. “Late wedding present,” he said, “just cause I love ya.” The present came in THIS bag:

Now, if you know me, you know my feelings on Chanel. I mean it’s the ultimate in class. Still, we don’t exactly have the money to go splurging on designer goods, like, ever. But if and when we ever would, my pick would always be Chanel. So this was all very exciting. Ta da!

Needless to say, I love my new shoes. I stroke them lovingly in private. I cradle the box like a little baby. I dream of the day when a Chanel bag will compliment the whole look (this is many, many years and thousands of dollars away, but hey, a girl can dream.) But most of all, I think about how lucky I am to have a husband who goes out of his way to treat me, just because.