It is similar to the feeling I get when standing alone in a copse of very large and regal trees; a feeling of other-worldliness; of elemental beings riding the sap as it rises. However, tree energy is gentle; less imposing than these giant granite stones.
The image and sound of water crashing against rock takes us up past our thoughts into musings and contemplation. "It is the primordial echo of the deep - the sludge and mud of our origins that speaks to our ancient sub-cortex." My answer to Mike's musings. He looks at me sideways. Such an Alana response.
The sea is a glorious and terrifying power and my timid nature has never understood it well enough to venture far from shore. I love the quiet bay near my home in Frankston, just ten minutes walk from my front door. I love that I can walk into the sea there without fear. I can swim and frolick and enjoy her benevolence knowing she won't spit me out of a rogue wave onto a gravelly shore.
It is no surprise to me that I would experience my first dumping on the seemingly quiet and friendly beach at Port Elliot in Horseshoe Bay. The weather soared close to 40 for a few days and the heat drove me into the water. Mike and I had been jumping waves and cooling off for two days and I was enjoying the relief and fun we were having. This day I had followed Mike in past the shore-breakers (I can't see very far without my glasses) into what I thought was deeper and calmer water. Port Elliot is renowned for its regular but relatively harmless shore-breakers. I turned around and coming toward me was a rogue wave which tailed a larger than usual set. I jumped the wave and knew at that moment that I should have gone under it. What followed I could embellish by saying my life flashed before me, but that didn't happen. What happened was closer to the image of washing going round in a front loader. I was tumbled and tumbled and ground around the sand and not knowing this experience before, I was terrified as I could not find my footing and just had to wait to be spat out in the foam. When I finally surfaced Mike was grinning and washing the water from his eyes saying " boy, that was a bit of fun", not realising I had just been put in my place by the sea. I stood shaking, gasping for breath and in shock, with sand caked in my hair, ears and private bits. It took all of an hour for Mike to coax me back in.
The following day was much cooler and I was happy just to sit on the grassy bank and watch others eat sand.
HOTEL ELLIOT - PORT ELLIOT
What makes a Pub a good one!.
Well it could be how it looks, the feel about the place,the staff, the patrons, maybe even the location. It also could be none of the above, so long as the beer is cold and someone is behind the bar ready to pour you one.
I liked this particular pub because I passed it everyday walking into town with Alana to do the daily shop. The pub wasn't on the main street which made it seem all the more rewarding.We would always stop in for "the one" before returning back to camp.
The look of the pub from the outside was quite appealing to me as it had this slight art deco look. I liked the big picture framed windows in the front bar, they were open and inviting. You could sit at them and read the papers with your nose hanging over the footpath, ready to ambush some passerby with a quick hello or a smile while having a cold frosty.
Hello Alana and Mike,
ReplyDeleteLike the look of the pub too. Have developed an interest in Art Deco over the years and visited Napier when in New Zealand due to its rebuilding in the 1930's in this architectural style.