To do nothing at all
Jan. 18th, 2006 05:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katiefooleryI've been thinking about it today, for some reason, and I've come to the conclusion that I'd like to go on a holiday. Visits to my parents' place in Beechworth are all very nice, but usually I'm either not with my Timothy or we just sit around, doing nothing. And while doing nothing certainly has its appeal, I'd like to do nothing somewhere different, just for once.
Apart from the occasional stay in Beechworth, I haven't been on a holiday since I was five. Way back then, my family used to go on an annual holiday to Port Fairy, on the coastline of Victoria. It would take us hours to drive there: after all, we were driving from the far eastern suburbs of Melbourne to the west side of the coast, as you can see from the map below.
The red arrow is handily pointing at where you will find Port Fairy, should you be interested in seeking it out. It's a very popular little town, seeing as it's historical and on the beach. We used to stay in a little two storey unit with a toilet whose light switch automatically turned on a fan as well. I hated the sound of that fan and as a result, I dreaded going to the loo in the middle of the night. But I was little, so we'll overlook this example of silliness.
The last time we went to Port Fairy, I remember waking up after the first night with the sudden fear that the holiday was already over. I was delighted to be told not to be silly, the holiday had only just begun.
But, as I said, it was the last holiday I've been on. My mum had this bizarre idea that school camps counted as holidays. I don't know where she got the idea that spending two nights and three days with people your age, most of whom you don't like, not to mention teachers who made sure we did activities and exercises and had very little actual fun counted as a holiday, but there you are.
There was also the trip to Canberra when I was studying, which might be described as a holiday if you ignore the fact that we spent half of the time on a bus getting there and back again and spent the rest of the time traipsing through museums and libraries. On the up side, I won fourteen dollars on the way home in the Melbourne Cup sweep. On the down side, I wouldn't have said my Timothy and I had spent any real amount of time doing nothing together.
I don't want a long holiday - a weekend would do me. It'd be lovely just to go away; to stay in a motel and go out for all of our meals. It would be just lovely to forget about responsibilities and the stupid water leak from our mains in the front yard. We'd just drive away, plonk ourselves down somewhere and relax, preferably by the seaside. I think that'd be lovely.
Apart from the occasional stay in Beechworth, I haven't been on a holiday since I was five. Way back then, my family used to go on an annual holiday to Port Fairy, on the coastline of Victoria. It would take us hours to drive there: after all, we were driving from the far eastern suburbs of Melbourne to the west side of the coast, as you can see from the map below.
The red arrow is handily pointing at where you will find Port Fairy, should you be interested in seeking it out. It's a very popular little town, seeing as it's historical and on the beach. We used to stay in a little two storey unit with a toilet whose light switch automatically turned on a fan as well. I hated the sound of that fan and as a result, I dreaded going to the loo in the middle of the night. But I was little, so we'll overlook this example of silliness.
The last time we went to Port Fairy, I remember waking up after the first night with the sudden fear that the holiday was already over. I was delighted to be told not to be silly, the holiday had only just begun.
But, as I said, it was the last holiday I've been on. My mum had this bizarre idea that school camps counted as holidays. I don't know where she got the idea that spending two nights and three days with people your age, most of whom you don't like, not to mention teachers who made sure we did activities and exercises and had very little actual fun counted as a holiday, but there you are.
There was also the trip to Canberra when I was studying, which might be described as a holiday if you ignore the fact that we spent half of the time on a bus getting there and back again and spent the rest of the time traipsing through museums and libraries. On the up side, I won fourteen dollars on the way home in the Melbourne Cup sweep. On the down side, I wouldn't have said my Timothy and I had spent any real amount of time doing nothing together.
I don't want a long holiday - a weekend would do me. It'd be lovely just to go away; to stay in a motel and go out for all of our meals. It would be just lovely to forget about responsibilities and the stupid water leak from our mains in the front yard. We'd just drive away, plonk ourselves down somewhere and relax, preferably by the seaside. I think that'd be lovely.