Saturday 22nd August 1998 marks the end of my first month of being here at Airlie Beach. In the furniture department, I have made eleven bookcases, which is pretty much all I can fit in here, unless I can figure how to squeeze one more into the entrance.
I thought I would comment about what a terrible day I had, so that you all realise that my life isn't all beaches and bars. Normally I set off around 6 a.m. for a 40 minute walk along the beach path. If I go much later than that, the sun gets in my eyes during the walk. Today it was overcast, and there was some rain (as is traditional every Market day).
I wasn't in the finest of form, since I'd had a very good time at the Friday night free wine and cheese tasting at the Jubilee Tavern. Even the 25 minute walk home hadn't entirely neutralised the effects of all that cheese ... well, that is my excuse.
At least we weren't getting the mail. Jean once decided that the "direct" route to the Post Office included us wading along the beach with the little waves washing over our feet. I'm not exactly sure how the ocean got between us and the Post Office.
The travelling hippies who make sand castles and dragons and other beasties on the beach during tourist events were only a little way into a fairly minor castle. There was no sign of the folks who had fresh coconuts this weekend.
During much of the past few weeks we had been entertained by the Hobie 16 World, a bunch of boat races (for which we didn't know the rules). We had a fine view from our balcony, so we tended to waste a fair bit of time watching the colourful sails through binoculars, and speculating on just where the course started and ended.
There are about a half dozen peacocks that wander around Whitsunday Terraces. It is a wonder they don't fall in the swimming pools or the spa. The spa near our building must be a constant menace to drunks also, as it is planted right in the middle of one of the paths.
Magnum's pub had an action adventure, as the first afternoon movie, so I dropped in and watched it on their projector video over a pitcher of beer. The Terraces restaurant got some 16mm projectors, and have been screening movies two nights a week downstairs in one of the conferences rooms, with enough of an interval that you can get another drink from the bar. So much for getting away from movies!
Sitting in the spa is an attractive alternative to doing anything energetic. They have cunningly mounted the timer on the wall, so every now and then you have to jump out and push the button again. I haven't been into the swimming pool; it is winter after all.
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