Time to go back to Sydney. Before we do, Marilyn and I visit Zenith Beach. It is Pacific facing, noisy and with amazingly high waves. There are no warning signs so I guess it's OK to swim. Since Helen was carried off by a rip ride I've been anxious about these sorts of beaches. I tell everyone I know that if such a tide gets you, not to swim against it, just go with it. Eventually it'll drop you off somewhere out at sea. You can swim back from there or someone will come and get you. You just have to stay afloat and not panic.
I just can't resist jumping in and diving around in the surf. The sun is hot, very hot. My shoulders, arms and face are sore. Extra factor 30 for me. Viv went back last night and I miss her. She's a hoot. I've uploaded a photo, also of Shoal Bay and Tomaree.
We stopped off for lunch in Nelson Bay.
At 'Rivers' clearance outlet I stock up with T shirts. While we were walking round I recognised the tell tale Creole of an arguing couple. It's such an expressive language. It's a sort of pigeon French. When spoken slowly (never gently)you can just about make out the meaning, if you know French. No chance if their going at it. There's lots of arm waving and jabbering. Evidently they've come all this way and he's left his wallet behind. She is not best pleased and she wants him to know it. We all get to know it.
'Mauricien?' I tentatively enquire after it seems to calm down. They are indeed Mauritian, from Beau Bassin what's more. They lived in the street round the corner from Marilyn and down the road from our Rue Telephone. They don't remember us or our family. Still what a coincidence. We're everywhere.
It's a long drive back. The car radio plays ageing rock and pop. I have a doze. It's been a tiring couple of days, but exactly as I imaged and hoped it would be.
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