The week just gone was a lot of things; christmas and new years, for a start. Melbourne finally decided we were, actually, in Summer, and graced us with a week of stifling days. I stayed on an island, met new people, caught up with old friends, watched several sunsets and a sunrise, skinny dipped, pier jumped, played frisbee in the water and rain, and danced until my feet hurt. Between everything, I swum and laughed and talked and made a hundred new memories.
You could call it the last week of the year. Or the first real week of summer holidays. It was closure and a new beginning all in one. It was an amazing week in so many ways – and I’ve collected some journal fragments and photos that seem to sum it up.
READ PART 2.
I was at Giada’s by 2, and met Enya, Indi and Rani there. In our short stay before we headed to the beach, we managed to break a hammock. We wandered around the house in bather bottoms and cropped t-shirts, searching for towels and bags and lathering ourselves in sunscreen. A short bare-footed walk and we were wading into glittering water.
A mud fight ensued, flinging wet dirt and sand in every direction. Dumped on hair and massaged into skin and stuffed in faces. We lunged at each other, falling in a mess of dirt and splashing.
Clambering up rusty ladders we mounted the jetty and threw ourselves off it. Daring each other, jumping backwards and sideways, off poles, grabbing hands, not breaking eye contact. The ferry came too soon – goodbye’s were all wet skin and falling towels and bags slung over shoulders, and Enya, Indi and Rani fading into the distance atop a boat.
Saturday (Christmas Eve), 24/12/16
Was woken at 11am on Christmas Eve, just in time to grab a sarong and a towel and jump in the car. Half asleep, I hung my feet out the window and wrapped the sarong around them. It whipped in the wind. Lounged on the empty jetty for an hour or so, dipping in and out of the water, until we headed home, skin and hair dry and salty.
The afternoon hours dissapeared somewhere between yoga attempts and lying on the floor with a spray bottle, desperately trying to evade the heat. At 4 or 5 we picked up Giada and were back at the jetty, gratefully welcoming a breeze and a high tide. Music constantly blasting from one of the cars clustered on the pier, the barbecue sizzled, and laughter drifted across the waves.
Friends turned up all night, until the sun was setting and the lights across the bay glittered in the dusk. An impromptu photo-shoot and a last hypothermia-inducing swim later, we were wrapped in darkness, wet-towels and blankets, lounging on the steps above the waterline, eating gingerbread and watermelon.
“Wait, I want to lick the sun.”
Caught Giada in a moment of sunset-bliss
Sunday (Christmas), 25/12/16
Rose early to catch the ferry back home for the day. My clothes were already sticking to my skin by 8am. Arrived home in a rush to open presents, change and pack a bag, and then piled back into the car and headed for the city to meet with family for Christmas lunch. I napped on the way there.
The day was marked with conversations about the universe. We talked about thoughts and energy, and diseases and miraculous recoveries. We discussed karma, choices, meditation and positivity, physics, neuroscience and Buddhism.
After lunch, water-guns were procurred, but quickly discarded in favour of a hose. The afternoon was all see-through shirts and shrieking laughter and hair flicks and wet grass stuck to feet.
Hair only half dry and clothes still dripping, discussion turned to old music and then Alannis Morrisette was playing, and we were talking about how Jagged Little Pill was poetry and everyone was singing loudly and our clothes were stuck to our skin with water and sweat but it felt like pure happiness.
Don’t forget to read Part 2.