Twenty yards to the right we have this
And 20 yards to the left - the mist off the surf
...not a chance; I'll play the admiring wimp with her camera. If you move the scroll bar quick enough it's almost an action movie...I have a highly alliterative film title ...........
Baywatch and the Barmy bu..g..r.
Ursula Undress eat you heart out.
As he emerges from the waves two surfers pass by:
- You wonting the husband's inshoorance?
I look perplexed.
- The surf is very dayngeroos today.
The rain sets in and Flipper has to stop, but not before the high class change of clothes in the public car park and frightening himself to death when half of Niagara Falls cacscades from his nose onto the back seat of the car; and who said romance is dead.
As we leave Ulladulla memories flood back...Witham, Hull, circa 1971, dad burning rubber on his Honda 50 , me riding shotgun,Jungle Book sticker skid lid bobbling about on my head, checking for PC Jobsworth who might book us for blazing a trail for Banksie with the tin of ice white Dulux that has just fallen off the back making the speed limit on the road into twentybleah miles.
3 hours later Bonnie and Flipper, who is feeling the effects equivalent to having Giant Haystacks administer a sports massage, roll up at the more sedate surroundings of the Royal National Park. And we appear to be in the midst of the most exhibitionist wildfowl , the cutest of which we believe to be
But then this little fellow hollers down and teases us at 10
feet
…indulge me
There's another 10 and I deleted 10 that were blurry through excitement.
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