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Boys
& Girls,
When Una and I moved to Oz I swore I would never write one of those
ghastly round-robin letters so popular with anoraks. Having succumbed a
while ago and jotted down a few inane ramblings of a round-robin nature I
vowed I would never write another one – this is it!
Having endured (sorry – enjoyed) the serenity of living on a mountain
for nearly two years we have decided to come out of the wilderness, forego the
banjo lessons and move to the seaside. The mountain, to be fair, is
pleasant enough but bloody quiet and disappointingly cold. Not all but most of
the residents lack charm, being rather extravagantly endowed with
eccentricities of the kind not usually bracketed with “endearing”. Every
god-fearing religion known to mankind is practiced up here and the ability of
the majority of locals to completely eradicate fun from their lives borders on
the magnificent.
We’re moving to a beach resort called Noosa on the
Sunshine
Coast
north of
Brisbane
- not as tacky as the Gold Coast (high-rise city) and blessed with a much
better class of drunk. We say goodbye to two acres of grass and trees
and mowing and move into a small apartment smack in the middle of wine bar
land. We haven’t even got a ******* window box! I guess we
are just concrete sniffers at heart. Prospective free-loaders should be
cheered by the fact we have a spare bedroom, there is a pool and the beach is
handily placed for a quick dip before slipping into a four hour lunch at the
yacht club.
Our new address and, for the spongers amongst you, your new holiday home
away from home is;
Unit 8
Riverside
Noosa
235
Gympie Terrace
Noosaville
Queensland
4566
Oz
Apropos nothing much at all some friends of ours, local normals who are
a shining beacon of light in comparison to the boring bastards who mostly
inhabit the mountain, have just embarked on a trip “up north”. They
are into all things indigenous and have been invited to a festival on an
Aboriginal reserve in Arnham land. To get there they have to drive for
about five days and then, deep in the
Northern Territory
, they have the choice of continuing north to
Darwin
or turning right onto a dirt road to reach their destination. But cop
this! The dirt road is 700 k’s long and there is sweet F.A. in
between, no gas, no town, no nothin’. Well
**** you, I thought it was noteworthy.
We’re
both fine as we hope you all are. We eke out a simple but happy existence,
cheapo BYO restaurants abound and we have discovered a purveyor of fine wines
who produces a particularly palatable drop for the princely some of four bucks
a bottle. We are looking forward to beach-bummery and hope at least some
of you make it downunder in the not too distant future.
Meantime, be happy and keep taking the medicine.
Much love,
Una & Lawrie
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