Legends from our own lunchtimes

Sunday, June 19, 2011

There she is!

There's no way of avoiding this:  "It was a dark and stormy night", and when the day dawned it remained dark and stormy. Not ferocious huff and puff and blow your house down stormy, just the sort of sulking greyness that dares you to go outside so that it can turn another fire hose on for the exact amount of time you have no cover.

We did what all sensible people would have done when faced with such a situation. We stayed in bed until it was almost too late to phone all at home, but at the last minute made a mad dash for the Scottish hamburger store in search of free WiFi.

There we noticed them in the corner hunched over their computer, they had a familiar air, something in the texture of their skin perhaps we couldn't pick it, but wondered if they were from our island.

Hours later, amid a break in the showers a resounding "gidday" and the shadow of a gentlemen of my own stature would have filled the companion way had there been light enough to cast a shadow.

It was one of the "them" and they were Warwick and Julie and were, as we had guessed from "home" and for the rest of the day most of the night we ate and drank beverages of all descriptions (mostly described as "tea") and moved between our boat and their campercar and wondered why humans have a compulsion to walk to the end of jetties or through arcades or to climb the highest point just to see if they can see "home" from there.


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