About that solo holiday…

Attempting to quell the restlessness that quietly agitates my existence – equivalent, one suspects, to the grain of sand that subtly invades an oyster’s cosy abode – took myself off to the quiet end of the Coast to reflect, restore and revitalise. And for those curious to know what a ‘lonely petal sans box full of cats’ holiday might entail, here are my astute observations…laugh, commiserate or set up the charity …

• Most of the population turns out to walk, amble, pram jog, dog drag, cycle, skateboard and conduct group raa-raa sessions on the ocean front pathway at 6am on Saturdays

• The rest of us dawdle barefoot on the surf’s edge dodging greedy seagulls, gawking at bronzed six pack clad lifesavers and, on occasion, falling face first into mystifyingly deep beach potholes

• It takes a certain degree of panache and dexterity to discreetly remove a pair of knickers discovered half way down the inside leg of one’s Lycra gym shorts in front of said audience

• Magnifying mirrors in brightly lit bathrooms reveal an extraordinary array of facial hair that friends have no doubt been yearning to discreetly pluck for eons

• Dogs look insanely cute trying to bite the surf; their botoxed, gravity defying boobed, spray tanned, bleached blond aging Mommas don’t

• Amex attracts 5% surcharge and ‘it’s all their fault’ ‘cos a mere 800% mark-up can’t possibly absorb such fees

• iTunes free U2 album, on constant rotation, wins over the arduous process of choosing from 17 continuous days worth of iPod music library

• A 2k beach walk totally justifies out loud orgasmic sighs at first sip of a store bought skinny flat white, one Natvia please, hold the lid

• Hard copy Weekend Australian is actually kinda cool to read in lieu of dodgy wifi, albeit only cos I’m looking for my soon to be published article on Digital Branding (stay tuned)

• Solo Yoga…no…best not go there.

• Foxtel, good for cooking, bios, reno’s…and observing women kicking, biting, scratching, women called to task for poor wardrobe choices, women squealing at infant pageant women, women indulging in drunken bitch-fest vomiting in random British gutters. And what is that about the Honey-boo boo? I mean seriously?

• You can create an extraordinary amount of exotic cocktails with base ingredients of Gin, watermelon and imagination

• Being happy in one’s own company doesn’t actually assuage feeling ‘alone’, utterly alone, possibly for ever and ever…and EVA!

• The lady next door has an entire football team in residence given the volume of washing that flushes onto her balcony daily

• A 180 degree view of the ocean from 14th floor provides a spectacular view of nature at her most fearsome, rainbows that end right at the doorstep and ‘front row’ migrating whale viewing awesomeness

The biggest takeaway? My life isn’t necessarily as complicated and messy as it feels. Sometimes, life is simply about happiness and the small ways we choose to engage in the absolute beauty of being alive. You could say the ‘pearl’ that, on occasion, results from the oyster’s persistence in accommodating that goddamned irritating grain of sand.

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