Places They Will Go...: Life’s a beach

To celebrate 2 months on the road we decided to have a holiday.
You know? To get away from it all…

There’s this cheap, council owned, camp ground at Parry Beach, near Denmark W.A.

While Queensland was flooding, & Sydney was stinking (in the mid 40’s), we were kicking back under a peppermint grove, fishing during the day & ~~listening to the boys dribble shit~~ sitting around the camp fire at night.
Apparently we missed John Butler, & the other two, by about a week. Damn.
I would have much preferred to listen to him.

It was BYO power supply & the solar showers were nice & warm if you had one at midday before all the little turds got in there to run the hot water dry. But at $10 a night, it was well worth the 6/7 cold showers I had. I rate it 3 pubes.
You could reduce your camping fees by volunteering to do jobs like cleaning the BBQ, general maintenance, or scrubbing the toilet blocks.

Instead we coughed up the dough.

Laithe was too busy fishing, & there isn’t a rubber glove long enough to see me through that last job.

We had a tip off (no pun intended) that the Tip Shop in Denmark could produce some winning items.
Santa, stupid prick that he is, didn’t listen to me when I said “That bike will be too big for her”. She got on it, freaked out, then stomped off saying she was “…NEVER GOING TO RIDE IT AGAIN! EVER!”
So when we found this beauty there for 8 bucks, everyone was excited.
Especially Pony.

She spent the whole week riding up & down the road, in & out of other peoples camp sites, perfecting her “skiddies”.
From her tyres. Not her undies. She perfected those ones years ago.

The place was craaaawling with kids on bikes, & kids playing cricket, & kids climbing trees, & kids getting up before the sun, & kids playing games well into the night, & kids at the beach, & kids covered in sand & dirt & snot, & kids using all the hot water, & kids leaving floaters in the toilets, & kids screaming at ANY HOUR OF THE DAY & NIGHT.
And that was just the one family.

Georgie made a couple of friends.
Then cried desperately when they left before we did.

Emerson made himself at home in anyone’s camp.
If you look remotely like a grandparent, anyone’s grandparent, ACHTUNG.
I still maintain that they shouldn’t have camped ~~within 100 meters~~ that close.
He walks around now, with his hands in his pockets, tipping his hat at people with a quick “Howyagoin’”.
If only he could wink.
He spent the week smelling of the camp fire & the bait bucket, with sand in his bed, dirt under his fingernails, & filthy black feet.
You can imagine my disgust.

We decided to start letting Georgie stay up later than him, because she is older & doesn’t lose her shit if she doesn’t get 18 hours sleep a night.
It didn’t go down so well.

Parry Beach Camp Ground was also the place that Laithe had the most frightening experience of his life.
Besides our wedding of course.

He shook me awake in the middle of the night.
It seemed his left nut had had a spontaneous, fast flowing, venous bleed & my nursing skills were required URGENTLY.
Like all good nurses, I barely raised an eyebrow. I ~~definitely~~ might have laughed at some point.
I had a look & said “Well what do you want me to do about it? Bandage your nut? I’m not touching it! Apply your own goddam pressure!” And then I went back to bed.
After 20 minutes of pressure & 3 band-aids later so did he.
Laithe claims that he did NOTHING vigorous that might induce bleeding, he simply woke up feeling like he’d wet the bed then proceeded to bleed all over the floor while he fumbled around for the light switch.
I would have it noted that I was 100% ASLEEP at the time of the bleed, with no instruments, blunt or sharp, on my person or in my vicinity.

Maybe it had something to do with the microwave?

Just down the road from Parry’s, or at the other end of the beach, is Green’s Pool.

I want one.
It was beautiful.
The water was so clear.
This is where the lucky little local kids get to learn to swim! They had vacation swimming classes on while we were there.
Laithe & Georgie went for a snorkel, while Emerson dug a hole.
Sure beats the Richmond Pool.
By the time we left it was lunchtime & Mr Whippy was in the car park RAKING it in.

So after 7 days of this…