So in New South Wales they have a south coast. It is not the south coast of the continent, you know, because that would have to be Victoria and South Australia and Western Australia. The south coast of the country probably only includes Tasmania if you are a purist. You can tell that I have just spent many days with Mr Precision Instrument, as the junior is becoming known. We have had several conversations about the meaning of 'pedantic' over the past week, but I am left feeling that the meaning has yet to be communicated.
Here are towns
we have seen: Merimbula, Pambula, Eden, Bega, Tathra, Tura, Nimmitabel
and Bemboka. I find the names of towns in NSW hopelessly romantic, and
was beyond thrilled to lay eyes on Nimmitabel, although I can identify
no reason why. I can't remember it being in a book I love, or being
spoken of fondly by people I care about it or anything like that.
Having seen it, I am sure I don't know why I have ever heard of it -
it's a tiny, pleasant, highway town with no cheese factory or brewery or
any brand name item that might carry its name proudly.
Other towns we saw have proud histories, or histories of which
the townspeople are defiantly proud. Eden has a long history of whaling
and chopping down trees, Tathra has a wharf with a substantial-looking
wooden building on top of it and Merimbula has clearly been catering to
frivolous beach goers for a very long time indeed.
The junior was interested only in the beach and the ice cream
shops, and generated a very high level of enthusiam for ten pin bowling
on our last evening in Merimbula. I remember desperately wanting to go
roller skating while my parents insisted on looking at views and going
bushwalking at a similar age. Ten pin bowling was fun.
On another day, the junior developed a massive anxiety attack,
with subsequent sulking and shouting, because we could not pay the park
use fee at one of the national parks near Tathra because the machine was
busted. He claims he wants to grow up to be an evil scientist, but
heavens I never met anyone so law-abiding in all my life. He wanted us
to immediately drive out of the park so we were not taking advantage.
And then he berated us the entire time we were there, until we became
that family that you are embarrassed to see at national parks, stalking
along the track sniping at each other. I wished I lived in Iceland, on
my own, with no telephone and no other humans within twenty kilometres.
Luckily things improved when we got to the beach, but it's the
kind of thing children hark back to when they have grown up and left
home and are remembering how much they hate their families, and
Christmas is rolling around.