Blow, Gabriel blow!

Go on and blow, Gabriel, blow! I've been a sinner, I've been a scamp

Go on and blow, Gabriel, blow!  

We got off to an early start the following morning as we had a lot planned for the day. We headed south out of Sydney, driving down the coast towards Kiama. We stopped along the coast so I could get some photos from a lookout spot on the way. After we had parked up in Kiama our first task was to source some breakfast. We found a spot on the main street and got a table outside in the sun. After bacon butties and coffee we walked down to see the Kiama blowhole. I had made all the obvious jokes about blowing, holes and salty spray well ahead of our arrival. We stood for a while watching the water shooting up from the hole in the rocks, the children in the crowd screeching and squealing every time it blew. I managed to get a few photos without getting wet. The amazing natural beauty was ever so slightly ruined by a rather large woman in a rather small leopard print bikini who was sunbathing right in the middle of grass next to the car park, not the most suitable of places to work on her tan.

From Kiama we made our way down to Gerroa where we picked up a coffee. The drive took us past a couple of buildings that Daniel had designed and he was keen to point them out. We chatted a lot about work during the journey. We talked about what it was like to be gay in the workplace, swapping stories of how colleagues would put their foot in it by saying things without thinking. I recounted how my appraiser had once told me “the best way to get ahead was to be completely straight”. She had meant direct but I had raised an eyebrow at which point she fell over herself to explain what she had meant. She had also once turned down an offer of help from a keen American lawyer saying to me “we don’t need his help do we, we are big girls”. Not only was she calling me a girl, she was calling me a big one. In retaliation I named her next project at work “Project Blouse”.

I told Daniel about the LGBT network at my former workplace that I had helped to set up and run for a few years. Daniel asked whether it had all been easy and fun. For the most part it had. I had got to do some great things as head of the network and had ended up attending various events and mixing with celebrities. I had once been at an awards event where I got chatting to Victoria Wood who had been nominated for something or other. I had been that excited about meeting her that I had invited her to my upcoming birthday party. She never turned up though, although that might have been due to the fact that in my excitement I hadn’t actually told her where it was being held. I am sure she would have turned up otherwise.

I've been a sinner

There were some parts of it that I didn’t enjoy having to deal with. I told him the story of one particular guy, an Australian, who had a tendency of getting very drunk at the network events and then behaving rather inappropriately. Every time a new event was announced he would email me asking if there were going to be free drinks at it, which I think formed the basis of his decision to attend or not. Following one event a client contact had made a few comments about his behaviour and I felt somehow responsible. It was like being a babysitter. I wanted to ban him from attending events until he learned how to act his age and in a manner more becoming to a grown adult. It was nice to hand over that responsibility when I stepped down from the network. 

The next place on our itinerary was Seven Mile Beach. We parked up, heading through the wooded track down to the beach. There was a group of people at a surf school close to where we had got on to the beach so we had walked further down to a quieter spot. We had brought swimwear and towels and having checked that I was unlikely to be attacked by jellyfish or sharks I went for a swim. The current was pretty strong and it took effort to try and remain in the same spot. The water was refreshingly cold after a morning walking around in the hot sun. After the swim and drying off we walked back up the beach. The surf school people had gone. They had been our reference point as to which track we needed to take back through the woods to get to the car. The whole length of the beach looked remarkably similar and we struggled to find the path back. We finally found a track and decided to take it. I got a little melodramatic, saying how we would be wandered lost around the outback for days. We had overshot the parking place by quite some way but found the main road, walking back until we got to the car.

I've been a scamp

After a late lunch in Berry we headed back into town, calling in to see a couple of Daniel’s friends, Connor and Scott, who had recently opened a pizza place in Miranda. Over some amazingly tasty garlic bread that they insisted we try we chatted about the area as I had spotted a sign for Sylvania on our way in. I asked if that was the same place that Sylvania Waters had been filmed. It was. The others were surprised that I had heard of the show, figuring it was just an Australian thing. It was one of the very first “reality” TV shows, being broadcast way back in 1992. A quick internet search and we had the address. Daniel said that we could drive by on our way back to his. We found the street and pulled up outside the house. I put the passenger window down so I could get some photos. After taking a couple of photos the upstairs window of the house opened and a rather angry looking guy peered out. The conversation went something like this:

Him:     What are you doing?

Me:      Taking a photo of the house

Him:     Why are you taking a photo of my house?

Me:      Because it was on a TV show twenty years ago

Him:     You can’t just turn up and take a photo of my house

Me:      I just have

Him:     Well you can’t

Me:      Well I can and I have. There is no law against it

At this point I turned to Daniel and asked if there was a law against it and suggested that we should leave. The guy looked like he was about to get a baseball bat or shotgun and I figured it was time that we were no longer there. I was pleased we hadn’t got out of the car to take the photos as it meant our getaway was speedy, although there were no screeching tyres as we set off. It certainly got the adrenalin pumping. I figured the guy living there must have known about the history of the house. We had found the right house with a simple internet search. Once back at Daniel’s I was really tempted to change the Wikipedia entry for Sylvania Waters to include the address and a note saying that Noeline still lived there and was happy to give you a guided tour if you knocked on the door.

“Go on and blow, Gabriel, blow! I've been a sinner, I've been a scamp” 
Lyrics from Blow, Gabriel blow from the musical Anything Goes