A blog of grumpiness, stilts and skin.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Luau time

On Thursday night I went to a corporate 'sundowner' overlooking City Beach.

I don't know if they call a late afternoon beer by the sea a 'sundowner' in your neck of the woods (they never used to in Brisbane), but that's what it's called in Western Australia.

Although it was drizzling, and there was no sundown to behold, the sand at City Beach was golden and the sea was as still as ice. And I got chatting to some very interesting people.

But plastered to the back of my mind all night was the image of a bar I'd walked past in the city earlier that day which advertised itself as a venue for, "work dos, break-ups and sundowners". All well and good, except that the seedy joint was underground!

Which in turn got me reminiscing about the South Pacific Rugby Club back in Canberra. It too was underground, and not a natural ray of UV had ever penetrated to sterilise the club's sticky carpet. To the naked eye, it was as un-South Pacific a den as ever existed. Especially since Canberra in 250 klicks from the coast. And cold: in more ways than one.

However, the ol' South Pacific was known all over town for its warm Polynesian welcome. And it did attract plenty of south sea sisters and brothers, as well as the odd interloper like me. So it must have been doing something right.

And the bunker location made it an excellent place to catch the first hour of the cricket without your boss walking by.

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