There are so many things to do and I have no clues how to do it all. That’s life in the big city. There are hermetically sealed crates after hermetically sealed crates to get through (not my idea). Clothes I’ll never wear ever again, books I can’t throw away, hats for display and hats for wearing, a TV from the dark ages and a monitor from the Cretaceous period.
I’d be happy to take them to a Good Sammy’s bin, but as I’m without private transport, that task is simply beyond me. Some are easily solved: bin it. Others not so simple, such as how do I move a 30kg TV when I can’t lift more than 10kg without my back simply collapsing under the strain.
However, I haven’t been idle. I’ve been preparing for the arrival of my newly found American friend. It’s meant drawing up an itinerary of activity, booking hotels, hire car, and so on. I was hoping to book a room at Karri Valley Resort, but the last room was snapped up less than 1 day before I tried to book it, nearly 3 months out! But that turned out to be a good thing: I found something cheaper in Margaret River, and we will travel through Pemberton to see the Karri forrests - Gloucester Tree & Diamond Tree included - on our way to Walpole’s Treetop Walk, Albany and Esperance. Besides, Karri Valley will be full of, shudder, children being, well, annoying little children.
Christmas with the folks should be interesting: my American has never had a summer Chrissie, let alone all the delights of cold meats followed by a arvo nap then possibly a swim in the shark infested waters of the Southern Coast of Western Australia. Not just any old sharks. White pointers: The Great White shark. Think Jaws. But my mind is at ease knowing I’m more likely to die in the hire car during the trip there than be killed by a shark.
I’m quite looking forward to the journey as well as the destinations. Plus I’m sure my guest will have the experience of a lifetime. Something that so many of my fellow Westralians take for granted.