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Wednesday, December 29th 2004[ <Previous | Next> | Show all entries in ]
After breakfast we met this dog, who was imprisoned against his will by a chain.
|Sad Kiama Dog|
|Yuko says hello to the sad Kiama dog|
We then did what we came here to do. Lie on the grass overlooking the cool blue waters of the Pacific.
We lay lazily on the grass for two or three hours.
The sea was angry that day... seriouly. The waves were as big as I've seen in my short sheltered life. So I thought it would be a good chance to see the Blowhole at its best.
Note: It is unclear whether "blow hole" should be written as two words or one. The plaque below uses two, while the Kiama Website uses one. I therefore choose to be similarly inconsistent.
Sure enough, the Blowhole was putting on a spectacular show.
Then we went around to the inlet where the water goes into the Blowhole. The wind was intense and the sea was like a huge washing machine. Thousands of white blobs of froth were swirling up from below and hitting us as if we were being spat on repeatedly. It was impossible to avoid the stuff getting into your mouth and I could taste the salt.
|This picture shows some of the white blobs of 'spit' swirling up from the sea|
Then I saw a rare sight...
|Dog on Man|
Of course, Yuko had to buy fish. In this case oysters.
So Yuko ate her oysters...
...and I crashed flat out like a lizard drinking. Compare...
We found two Chinese restaurants and went inside both of them to sus them out.
|The House of Canton - There seemed to be no Chinese staff and no Chinese customers - Not a good sign!|
|The Dragon Garden - There were Chinese staff AND Chinese customers!|
We went to the Dragon.
In the evening there was a Jazz concert in the park just across the road from our motel. We had intended to buy Chinese takeaway and go to the park for the concert. However, it was just too cold!
But after dinner we took a quick look before returning to the motel. It didn't sound like Jazz to me; more like blues/rock.
The audience was small, probably due to the cold weather.
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