Sitting in the Ulladulla Bowling Club and washing down my meat loaf and chips with a glass of Chateau Cardboard, I watched the greenkeeper leisurely moving back and forth across the green, and I thought to myself, "I want his job!"
I mean, does he ever go home with a splitting headache or will he ever develop a peptic ulcer? I don't think so. He could even read a book while doing his job!
Speaking of which, after our swim at the pool we visited my favourite second-hand bookshop where I picked up the 1946 classic "Tahiti Landfall"; a clever little novel of third-person assessments and first-person reminiscences titled "I was Amelia Earhart"; a copy of Anthony Burgess's "Malayan Trilogy" which I already have but not in such beautiful binding; and "The World that Summer", a political book that describes the events that led from the 1936 Berlin Olympics to Nazi Germany and the Second World War.
And here's a photo I took in the supermarket which pretty much sums up what's wrong in his country: while you could break your leg tripping over coconuts up north with nobody bothering to pick them up, we import coconuts from Samoa and sell them in the shops for $4 a piece:
