After what seemed like forever I reached the café/restaurant that would satisfy my urge for iced chocolate and a fruit salad. As I sat and waited for it there was a rare feeling of silly excitement over getting something delicious. Maybe children feel like this and then we grow out of it.
|Post office opposite The Anchorage where I had my iced chocolate and fruit salad|
I can say that the drink hit the spot. Sweet and cold, I had to control myself from making slurping noises to get the very last drop from the bottom of the glass. I then took my time eating the fruit salad. It was around 3.15 pm now and the thought of where I would have dinner crossed my mind.
After last night’s boring fare that I conjured up back where I was staying, a feast was in order. Besides, isn’t that what a holiday is all about?
So, I booked a table for the night at the restaurant and then made my way back up the big hill to my current place of abode.
On Lord Howe Island, if you book a dinner somewhere the place where you are staying will give you a lift to the restaurant. Then, once dinner is finished you will get a lift back. Unless you want to walk back in the pitch-black night that is. No street lights here.
The woman who owned the place where I stayed dropped me off half an hour early as she had a couple of other people to ferry around. Before I got out of the car she noted that as I was early for my booking it would be a lovely idea to go and watch the sunset. Just cross the road, walk up the grassy verge and down the little path between the bushes and you will find the perfect spot to sit and watch it were the words she said to me.
So I did that. Crossed the road, up the verge and down a little track. The sun was low in the sky but there was still light enough for daylight. There was a flagpole on the grassed area. Wooden table and a couple of park benches and something that looked like a sundial but was, in fact, a guide that showed me how far certain towns were from me. I looked down at it and saw that Melbourne was 791 miles away from where I stood. I waved in the direction where I knew S and K were and then sat on the park bench to watch the sunset.
I didn’t have my camera with, or my video camera so no visual record is available.
I shall try and describe it.
I cannot think of the last time I made an effort to really, really look at a sunset. Sometimes I see bits of it when driving down along the bay at home. Some vague ball of orange sky I may glimpse from out of the corner of my eye with a bit of red thrown in. But to actually sit and look at the event is something I don’t do. Even if I did, a sunset near where I live is nothing compared to a sunset at Lord Howe.
The colour was so big. Does that make sense? When I say it was a big colour I mean it was bigger than anything you could squeeze from a tube of paint to put on canvas or capture on camera. The intensity of the yellowy orange left me in awe. A few clouds scattered across the front of it and the contrast only heightened the brightness of the colour.
The sun itself seemed bigger than I had ever seen the sun. A big ball hanging in the sky.
It took a while to set. As it went lower down on the horizon red and orange hues flooded along beside it. The sun itself kept the intensity all the way down, the only thing changing was how much of it I could see and how much it was able to light up the sky. Eventually it disappeared over the horizon and left only a faint glow of orangey red behind.
At that point I turned and went to the restaurant thinking how fortunate I was to have seen that. No doubt people see this sort of thing every day but not me and it truly was beautiful
At the restaurant (The Anchorage) I sat down to a busy atmosphere. Locals and visitors made up the busy clientele. There was a person playing guitar and singing nice songs. Songs that I knew from years ago which may suggest the demographic of Lord Howe.
The menu was deliciousness personified. I took my time looking at which thing to eat. My first choice for entre was King Fish sashimi with pickled vegetable. I love sashimi. The taste and texture is something I like to take my time over when eating. Especially when eating out. The fish on Lord Howe is exceptionally fresh and clean due to the pristine condition of the waters around it.
To enhance my eating experience I ordered a glass of wine. However, by the time I got through the entre I think I was mildly tipsy. It’s not a bad feeling being tipsy now and then. But being day two, tired and recovering from a big hike made me emotional and at the same time the singer started to sing “Dear Prudence” which was a song from many years ago that I had forgotten about and loved so much when it was around. I was only a kid but I remember the words still.
The Beatles first sang it but this is the version I recall and love.
Then suddenly there was this moment where I was aware of something rather rare. Nobody was taking a photo of his or her food. Nobody was looking at his or her smart phone. Everyone was talking to each other. It was so, so authentic and unspoiled.
So with that fantastically emotional moment, listening to “Dear Prudence”, the awareness of being in the now yet feeling a little bit of the past as well, remembering that I was 791 miles away from K, S and Mr Benny, feeling tired, tipsy and melancholy I did what any other person would do.
I ordered another glass of wine.
After all, there was still the main course! This consisted of fresh scallops, beef and some sort of delicious sauce. I chose an entre size for the main meal, as there was desert to consider. This consisted of Belgian chocolate tart with chocolate sorbet.
The night was finished off with a coffee.
I am not telling you how much it was suffice to say it was worth the money. My argument to myself was that I was on holiday and I love food.
When I got back to Ebbtide I went to bed and was about to drift off when the noise of the Mutton Birds started. Initially I thought they might settle down. However they went on. There was lots of warbling, cackling and what sounded like maniacal laughter at varying degrees of loudness. It was almost human like.
At one point I drifted off for an hour or so and then was woke up by the birds. Eventually at 2.00 am in the morning I had to take something to help me get to sleep. Within twenty minutes I was oblivious to any noise at all.
End of day two at Lord Howe.
|Local resident and his owner bike riding.|