Reality bites as we fly back home. Sex takes off, however!

Monday 14^th September.

Decided to do something really silly for our two last days on this wonderful continent, we got up pretty early this morning, caught an early bus into Freo and hopped on the earliest ferry we could over to Rottnest Island. We only planned on a day visit but it seemed like a good idea as this has proved to be our favourite destination of the six weeks. We caught the 8.15 ferry out from B-Shed and spent the first part of our trip having a proper breakfast at the Dome; we were starving. After a hearty meal we decided to catch the tour bus and have a guided whizz round the island. This proved a good choice as hardly anyone was on the tour bus and we got a really interesting commentary.

Back in Thompson we pondered whether to hire bikes but instead decided to just chill out in the Settlement and relax our few hour of luxury for the day. It helped that the weather was really nice and pretty warm, too warm we thought for cycling. It is hard to describe doing not much but that is what we did, at the Dome, at Aristos for lunch and then in the hotel for afternoon tea. All very civilised and tinged with a little sadness as we’re flying home tomorrow evening. We caught the 4.25 ferry back to Freo. I had several frantic sounding texts from Annabelle wanting to know what time we’d be home but when I asked why she wouldn’t tell me. We rolled through S & OP’s front door at just on 6pm to be told, don’t sit down, we’re off out.

The off out consisted of a meal at Sunsets Restaurant on the bay at Rockingham Sea Front, which we nearly missed because no-one had told us what was afoot. If the Rottnest Express had been running its 7.55pm return to Fremantle from Rotto we would have missed the booking and the meal. Lucky, eh? Naturally, as we were dining on the shore Laura and I had the Barramundi (the first time we have had the same main course whilst eating out, she was able to inform us all). We also had the same dessert; a soft chocolate centred delight that was truly deadly. I almost couldn’t finish it. Sunsets call it their soft-hearted chocolate pudding, it was to die for. It is agood job we do a lot of exercise or we could end up like Michelin Women!

Because Pete was picking up the tab for the food, I ordered the wine and we found their list had a Reisling from the Porongurups (just outside Albany – something we had missed on our travels). It was called castle rock and was delicious. We demolished three bottles between us (the kids had theirs the Roman way).  Afterwards, before going back home, we strolled the length of the foreshore and back and reminisced about what we had done this holiday and also from times in the past.

There were a couple of tears brushed away as we went to bed.

Tuesday September 16^th.

Flight at 10.20 ish this evening; check in two hours before. We decided to carry on as normal today which meant swimming at Aqua Jetty. Taking the kids to school after breakfast and then going for a walk round Rockingham Shopping Mall (to make sure I had bought something for everyone back home) then out to Point Peron for a final look around there too. We prepared the meal for the kids’ arrival from school, and then at about 6.30 we were driven out to the airport.

We had decided that they wouldn’t stop to watch the plane take off, we’d say our goodbyes at the departure lounge entrance and then could drive back home. It is still a school night after all for the kids. There were several pairs of watery eyes as we said goodbye and went through the gate. Annabelle quietly told me, “There are notes!” I was so pleased. She had left me loads of them in my pockets and luggage last year (I have kept them all in a scrap book at home) it will be lovely to have some more from her. I had told the family they mustn’t go into our room until after we had left so they would find some treats for them as a surprise on returning from the airport. There was one surprise I had already given (I know I shouldn’t have) but I left Jill the Rabbit. I told her if she was found with it she had not to implicate me in its purchase. She swore on her life that she wouldn’t ever. I explained that I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but it was definitely better than having sex before she was ready and falling pregnant. She did they eye roll into her forehead thing but was grateful for the fact I had thought her mature enough to be sensible about sex. (I don’t think I do think she’s mature enough at all, but you can’t live their lives for them, can you? And she’s not even my child!)

Travelling east to west, we gained time rather than lose it, so although we took off at about 10.20pm from Perth we arrived in Glasgow the following lunch-time. I will spare the flight details. Needless to say, we didn’t make the mile high club as Laura was still on and didn’t want the mess.

Wednesday September 17^th.

The Aged Parent and wife were waiting at arrivals for us in Glasgow and everywhere was plastered with campaign posters and stickers and slogans. Dad was of the opinion that if the Scots voted Yes it would be the best thing to happen for Scotland but would serious fuck up the rest of the Union Countries. I was a bit surprised to hear Dad swear but he was deadly serious. He fears a Tory Party that will never be voted out of office if we lose Scotland.

I thought we’d be fine in the car but it seems I fell asleep as we joined the M74 and didn’t wake up again until we were at Prospect. Laura said she had stayed awake all the time but Dad laughed and said, “Mmm… Snoring while awke is a new one on me!” Dad dropped Loll off at her Mum and Dad’s house but she said she’d be round after tea, I went on home with Louisa and Dad and was greeted by a pack of excited dogs and one really ecstatic Weimaraner! Callie lay on the floor of the en-suite as I spent an age in the shower. Then she followed me like a little limpet all through the house. We sat and played some of Dad's CD collection...

Laura phoned to ask me to come round to hers for the meal, so I gained permission from the Aged P and headed off, not that I needed their approval or anything, it was just that I didn’t want to skip off if they had prepped something for me. I had been sat at Molly’s kitchen table, chatting as she and Laura cooked, when in came Louisa and Dad, about five minutes later. They had been invited to too but Laura had forgotten to mention that, so Eric had phoned while I was strolling down.

We had a huge meal and several bottle of Uncle Hilmar’s wein (although Dad must be getting low by now). The talk was all about holidays and babies and what Laura might do after he degree next summer. We joked about all sorts of stuff and even Molly wanted to know what Dad was doing dragging his pregnant wife off to Australia when she would be almost to term. I piped up with, “Dad wants a baby born in Australia!” He actually blushed but then denied that was the case. He claimed his maths was wrong and he had worked out the baby’s birth month to be March rather than January! I kept schtum as I thought I may have put my size sixes right into it!

We learned what Avril and Kirsten, Loll’s sisters (and their families) were up to; Stephen was discussed as being a reprobate for not liking Rugby League! A serious crime in West Cumbria. We heard tales of Molly nearly driving head first into a tractor using the Tallentire one way system the wrong way! Apparently she lost it big time with tractor driver and swore like a trooper at him. She then took out her phone and filmed the tractor and the driver, threatening him with reporting the incident to the police. Laura asked if she really had, and Molly had to admit she hadn’t but the footage was still on her phone!

This lead nicely to us showing some of the footage we had taken in Australia by linking Laura’s phone up to the TV and Laura playing at vision editor while I gave a commentary. Those who hadn’t been to Australia (that was everyone except me, Dad and Laura were impressed by the things we showed them in our mini-travelogue. Normally a night like this would have stretched away into the small hours but Laura and I started to get a bit weary, so we cried off any more alcohol, bade our good nights and headed back to my house where we had our first shower together for ages and then fell into bed.

Thursday 18^th September.

Up early to find my nether regions being explored by expert fingers. I wistful voice came towards me with the magic words, “Guess what? I’ve finished…” so we began a serious exploration of each other’s bodies which lasted almost two hours. Bloody nature, eh? Why couldn’t she have finished two days ago and we could have bonked on an aeroplane at 35,000 feet?

Orgasmed out by 7.30, we infiltrated our kitchen and raided Dad’s fridge for breakfast. There was plenty of bacon and eggs in there so we did a fry up, which we didn’t get to eat immediately as the Aged P and Louisa appeared, as if by magic, and swiped our first load. Fortunately there was enough for us as well, so we started a second batch. Full English breakfasts are a rarity in Australia. Well, they are at Suze and Pete’s as they consider them to be unhealthy for the kids. Dad was astounded!

He and Louisa were heading off to Lancaster to day to do something for Uni. They were staying over in the flat and would be back on Friday. We were given huge instructions not to whoop it up while we were alone and also to avoid Cockermouth. I asked why but Dad just said, “Go and see, then…”

We went for a drive into the Gem Town and were gob-smacked to see that the whole bloody main street was still a building site. It had been like this for months before we went away and we fully expected it to be all gleaming and finished when we got back. No such luck. I spoke to a woman in Sainsbury’s who said it was because the council contract hadn’t got any penalty clauses in it and the company were spinning out the work long past the original completion date. It is an absolute mess and it shows what a set of useless old git the council must be. We drove back the long way as we planned to go to Clint’s Crags to take some photographs to send to Australia. You could still drive through Main Street but only in one direction. It must be an absolute nightmare at rush hour.

Clint’s Crags are near Blindcrake and offer a wonderful view over the northern part of the Lake District, or they usually do. When we finally struggled to the summit, it was so cloudy all the fell tops were covered. You could see Bass Lake quite clearly and the lower fell summits stood out but for photographs it would be a dead loss. We decided to wait and try again if the cloud lifted during Friday. The crags are actually part of an old quarry and limestone pavement; very easy walking and a great picnicking and al fresco bonking spot. (No, we didn't!)

Dad and Louisa had gone when we got back, so we spent another happy hour or two having sex all over the house without restrictions. It was so good to be able to let your pleasure find its voice after over six weeks of being restrained.

I made a spag bol for tea and we spent the evening catching up on the old telly we'd missed from my PVR (I have one in my bedroom up here at Dad’s house and had set up to record several shows, including the new Dr. Who). By about 9.30 our eyes had gone square and we began to nod in front of the screen, so Laura had her shower while I walked the pack of dogs and then I had mine. I had hoped to entice the gorgeous girl to further shenanigans after me shower but she was already asleep. Never mind, we’ll just do a repeat of this morning, tomorrow!