Sydney/Taree Australia
Part 9
Traveling by car across the Sydney Harbor Bridge was totally awesome! It was a massive structure, with eight lanes of north and south bound traffic, plus north and south rail, a bicycle lane, and a pedestrian lane. B told me that it was built by a Scottish engineer, Bradfield. "The plans were drawn up in 1924, and the bridge was finished in 1932. When the two hinged halves came together, they were only about half an inch out of alignment. Pretty amazing technology for those days."
Once out of the Sydney city and suburban traffic, we turned onto the Newcastle expressway. Newcastle was about 100 miles north, and Australia's 5th largest city. About 100 miles north of Newcastle was Taree.
It was cool to be sitting on 110 clicks [65 miles per hour] for long stretches, but it was also boring. Sue was dead to the world in the back seat as the little Mitsubishi ate up the miles. It was surprisingly powerful considering it was carrying a full load, and was powered by a small 4-pot engine. In fact, B had to back off quite a few times as the speedo needle hovered around 120. He was also getting into the habit of using 5th gear on extended runs.
After we'd bypassed Newcastle, and ran outa freeway, we stopped at a small town whose 30 or so houses and shops sat on either side of the highway. And that was it. No back streets. We pulled into a roadside diner, which was also a "servo", Oz for gas station. Time for a piss!
"You go first, Daniel."
"We can go together."
"I've gotta keep an eye on the car."
"Lindsay can keep an eye on the car."
"Don't argue."
I was still giggling as I watched my piss splash against the stainless steel urinal. I loved the way B would get all embarrassed and bent outa shape, but I didn't really understand why. Was it something about me? Hmmm. Maybe I intimidated him for some reason.
The restaurant had a whole bunch of food, including sit-down meals, but B wanted to get moving as soon as poss. We had the removalist truck on our tail, and he didn't want it arriving in Taree before we did. "Can you imagine Mick [the removalist] deciding where to put everything? The place would be a houseful of total chaos!"
We munched on a sausage roll each, washed down with Coke, as we stood beside the car and checked out the town... what there was of it. The cutest part was a little wooden church across the road, probably dating from the 19th century. B referred to it as the local 'cathedral'. "You can imagine Sunday mornings here," he smiled, "with maybe a dozen people attending service."
"Why do people live here?"
"Why do people live anywhere? You'd have to ask them, not me."
The second half of the trip was about as uneventful as the first, except for giant plumes of smoke in the distance. "Bushfires," B explained. A few days later, we would discover that they were serious fires that closed the freeway. We were lucky we left Sydney when we did.
As the countryside drifted by, I began counting the kilometers to Taree. We were passing through open farm country, with small herds of cattle and a few grazing horses here and there. Sue was wide awake, commenting on how the countryside and animals reminded her of Wales in the UK, where she was born and raised. At one stage, we passed a vineyard, with its many acres of green vines loaded with grapes. It was no surprise to hear B say, "This is my kinda place!"
Welcome to Taree, the sign read. Pop 18,000. "Eighteen thousand and three," B grinned. "And one visitor."
The bridge over the Manning River was no Sydney Harbor Bridge, but it was exciting. It was a two lane bridge, with an extra cycle/pedestrian lane. And the river as we passed over it, by any standards, was huge. It even had a small island in the middle!
Once over the bridge, we turned right into Victoria Street. And whaddaya know! The estate agent's office was just 50 yards away on our left. B had only just gotten outa the car when the removalist truck pulled up behind us. Whoa! Four hours driving and only three seconds apart!
Five minutes later, we were parked in the drive of the house, with its two lock-up garages. Mick had organized two local guys to help him unload the truck, and carry everything inside. Inside? B was rushing around trying to figure out where everything should go. It was the first time he'd seen the place. Sue was in a daze. She couldn't believe the size of the house. It was a monster compared to the apartment she'd left behind just four hours ago. Hey, it was a monster, period! Even the front verandah was the size of a large room. Awesome!
Anyway, there wasn't time to absorb our new surroundings 'cause the removalist guys were bringing stuff in at a million miles an hour, and constantly asking B, "Where does this go?"
Lindsay was having a ball. He was second in charge, and loving every minute of his new responsibility. But that just added to B's woes 'cause, to put it mildly, Lindsay wasn't exactly rocket scientist material. "Hey, B! Mick wants to know where this goes!"
Within an hour, the truck had been emptied, and the removalist guys had gone. B opened one of the portable coolers, and grabbed four bottles of beer. "Time to celebrate, guys. Welcome to our new home."
As we drank, we wandered around the house, checking out the size of the rooms, with their 12' patterned ceilings, and leadlight windows. Even the entrance hall was as big as my bedroom back home. "Jeez, B, you hit the jackpot with this place. It's wicked! And the toilet is separate from the bathroom! Woohoo!"
B decided on collaring the dining room for his office. The huge kitchen was big enough to accomodate the dining table and chairs, anyway. And most of the time, Sue and Lindsay ate their meals off the large coffee table in the living room while they watched TV. "I found the coffee table discarded not far from where we lived in Petersham," B explained. "It was in pieces, so I brought it home, glued it all back together, and voila! Gotta be worth a hundred at least."
Directly off the "office" were two more rooms. B chose the larger one as his bedroom, and the other as a spare room, so that left Sue and Lindsay with the main bedroom. It was the biggest bedroom they'd ever had in their entire lives, and twice the size of their previous one, Lindsay kept saying. He and his wife were totally over the moon. As far as they were concerned, they'd been delivered to Paradise.
"No way I'm cooking tonight," B said. "Almost all our stuff is still in cartons. I'll find a pizza place or a chicken place or hamburgers whatever... somewhere. We'll unpack everything tomorrow."
"Where's the phone book?" I asked. "We can order pizza delivered."
"There isn't a phone book. I'll have to get one."
Little did we know there were a million shops not even two blocks walk from the house. So which way did we go? The wrong way. B didn't wanna drive 'cause he'd had too many drinks. He looked at his watch. 8pm. "So what happens here? Everything closes before 8? There's gotta be a hamburger joint somewhere, surely!"
"Let's try this street," I suggested as we came to an intersection.
After walking for another 5 or 10 minutes, we came across a large parking lot, which led to a row of small shops. "Woohoo! Eagle Boys, the home of the fresha pizza!"
"HellowelcometoEagleBoysthehomeofthefreshapizzamyname'sPetercanIhelpyou?"
"What did he say?"
"It's an ancient Aboriginal phrase meaning, "What would you like to order?"
"Wow!" I said as I studied the colorful picture menu above us. "Supreme! With double everything!"
Getting home was a lot easier 'cause the guy who served us gave us directions... not that I understood a fucking word he mumbled, but B did.
"How come most Aussies talk funny?"
"Secret code. We don't want you Merry Cans getting any of our secrets."
"What secrets?"
"Can't tell you... they're secret."
Within a few minutes after arriving home, the pizza was totally demolished. We were all starving. And it tasted wicked. Mmmm! "And I suppose you're gonna tell me that the pizza is an ancient Aboriginal recipe."
"Yep. But minus the witchetty grubs."
"Witchetty what?"
"Kinda like a land-based prawn according to the Aborigines. They consider them a real delicacy."
"Prawn?"
"Shrimp, only bigger."
It'd been a helluva long day, and we were all pooped, especially after pigging out on pizza, and drinking another beer each, so it was time for bed.
"Listen up, B, you can't sleep on the sofa, couch, lounge, or whatever the fuck you call the damn thing. We'll share your bed tonight."
There was a pause while B avoided my eyes. "I need another drink. A big one!"
"No you don't! Jeez, B! What is it with you? I'm not gonna do anything, 'cept maybe fart. So that's fucking final. You're sleeping in your own bed with me."
"Sounds like an order."
"It is."
I was already under the covers by the time B returned to his room after brushing his teeth. He turned off the light, then tried to undress in the dark.
"What are you doing, B?"
"Undressing."
"What are you afraid of?" B didn't answer. Instead, I heard a lotta fumbling and cussing as he tried to find his way around the darkened room. Finally, the other side of the bed sagged as he got in beside me. There was enough room between us to drive a truck through. "B? You're gonna fall outa bed. Move in a bit closer." Silence. "B? You gonna give me a goodnight cuddle?" More silence. "OK, I'll give you one."
I rolled over and wrapped the old dude in my arms, then gave him a kiss on the cheek. "'Night, B."
"You're incorrigible."
"Is that good?"
"Yes."
By the time I woke at about 7am, I was the only one in the bed. But I could hear keyboard noises coming from the next room. Sure enough, B was sitting at his comp, which he must've put together during the early morning hours. "Hi, B."
"Daniel!" he said as he studied my face. "Good morning! You look sleepy, but you also look marvelous. How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Look so wonderful after you've just woken up?"
"I dunno, B," I smiled as I ran my fingers through my blonde hair. "I gotta take a piss." Well, whaddaya know! The toilet was free! That had to be a sign that things were on the improve. It was then that the size of the house really dawned on me. Even the WC was huge!
When I emerged, I saw B in the kitchen. He was making two cups of tea.
"So did you do anything naughty while I was asleep?" I asked as I placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I looked at your face early this morning... up close. I must've studied it for half an hour."
"And?"
B didn't answer straight away. He poured boiling water into the cups, which had tea bags in them, then said, "You have the face of an angel... while you're sleeping, that is."
"And when I'm awake?"
B added milk and sugar to the cups of tea. "I'm not sure. There's a bit of devil in you."
"Is that bad?"
"No," he chuckled.
We drank our tea sitting in front of the comp. B was checking newsgroups for Rude Dudes. "They're very hard to find, Daniel. There are gigs of nudies, but most of them... well, they're just not what I'm looking for."
"What are you looking for?"
"Guys that represent your kinda spirit, but there's only one Daniel."Copyright © 2001 All rights reserved. mrbstories
