I had a completely Oz weekend. It involved caravan parks, crashing a fiftieth birthday at a surf club, skinny dipping after the wedding reception, amenity block action, bunk beds, non-ironic uses of the phrase "fair dinkum", big family sedans and selling an unconscious man for a six pack of New.
My friends got married in a church across from the beach, had the reception in a cafe fifteen metres down the road and I slept in the caravan park another twenty metres away.
I ended up flying to Ballina, which is a pity. Mainly because I fucking hate flying these days. I'm not sure when it started, but I really don't enjoy it at all. In Byron Bay, the big headline was "Byron man and son killed in plane crash". When I got back home, I turned on the news to see the Nigerian plane crash and a Mythbusters episode about the brace position. I hate planes.
Sadly, my copious free time spent alone had led to me developing a mild crush on one of the mythbusters . It's also led to my learning this song as a folk love ballad on acoustic guitar.
Time to join a club, or something?