Wanci Bimble 2
Beez Neez now Chy Whella
Big Bear and Pepe Millard
Wed 10 Aug 2016 22:47
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Wanci Bimble
2
 At one o’clock several of us met in
the restaurant (still being built around us) opposite the anchorage. Today we
ate to the sound of floor sanding broken by the need
for the machine driver to bed nails a bit further down with a hefty piece of
metal and hammer................
 .......... His
mate joined in with a bit of chainsaw harmony and the idea of an
inter-boat game of cribbage was abandoned for a bimble on new territory, well to
turn right out of the eatery instead of left. Another
chap was clearly making an effort to tidy up a bit and everything in his
collecting bucket was confined to the sea.
 Plenty of time to wait for our food
John (Afar VI) showed us our second letter
that very few had received, he had read it out and the translation on the radio
this morning. Basically, if officials came to us asking for National Park fees
of $AU 15.00 we were to say we were exempt. Several boats had already paid by
then but Beez had no such visit...........
 After lunch, I once again went for
the safe option of chicken and noodles but did go a bit wild and asked for sweet
and sour chicken – it was neither, tasted of fire and was swiftly pushed over
for Bear to break into a mild sweat over. That done I felt the need to take
another picture of this beautiful one careful owner.
Now braced and ready for our bimble.
  We indeed turn right on to new
territory and see a house with a little light engine maintenance going on in the
lounge.
   We all stop at the bakery and buy
sliced loaves at fifty pence. Down the road we take in the
houses (clearly the more affluent end of the city) and make it to the roundabout. A right turn here would take us to the
ferry port but we spied an information board on the opposite side of the
road.
 We saw our little shopping trolley
between the two anchors on the left and a much bigger trolley on the right by a
white bus. Not sure about the scale of the map or
whether it means a bus ride to the bigger supermarket, we decide to walk a
little further to the market on the right.
 The bread delivery
man sets off on a run.
  We wonder if like in Europe, these
householders don’t have to pay Council Tax if the upstairs
is not finished.
 Local
electrickery.
  A near derelict
mansion and a new build opposite.
 Low obstruction
with sharp bits. Danger lurks everywhere with pot
holes, a man sweeping round a bend with roofing wires trailing behind his
motorbike and schoolchildren having to skip over them as their ankles are
threatened. It is lawful to walk with the flow of traffic and depend on
passers-by to beep. We all walk with the traffic coming toward us so we can see
the perils approaching.
  Sometimes in
places we need to find stuff in yellow and black for Beez and come up empty. No
so here in Wanci. Bear buys a new torch, we see a crash
hat and a head and footboard to match.
Handbags, tee shirts, dresses – in fact, a smorgasbord of things bee-coloured.
 We pass an eatery
with an interesting name. The menu gives an idea of
prices in Rupiah. We have to take off all the noughts, call it Australian
dollars, halve it and add a few bob to guesstimate the sterling. Therefore a
bottle of Coca-Cola is around forty two pence.
  A very parsey pad with silver touches, complete with water
feature and handsome car.
 A shop in purple brings that poem by Jenny Joseph to
mind. Warning.
When I am an
old woman I shall Wear Purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go,
and doesn’t suit me,
And I shall spend my pension on
brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve
no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement
when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and
press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public
railings
And make up for the sobriety of my
youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in
the rain
And pick the flowers in other
people’s gardens
And learn to
spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and
grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages
at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a
week
And hoard pens and pencils and
beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that
keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in
the street
And set a good example for the
children.
We must have friends to dinner and
read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practise a
little now ?
So people who know me are not too
shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start
to wear purple.
  A shack with a
view through the window to a carefully owned
boat.
 A fancy house with an impressive bay glass window, wonder if the glazier lives
here.
  The motorbike
repair shop and a couple of boys out in their
PJ’s. Wonder if they will wear purple in later life
???
 Clearly these householders feel the
need for security judging by the four inch nails used
as a deterrent for unwanted trespassers.
  A nice little
house next door to a keen
gardener.
 The local old and
the plastic new pass each other.
ALL IN ALL NOT A CITY TO
TEMPT ME TO RELOCATE......
BUT WHAT AN INTERESTING
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