A new day, another morning after. Fran left her room, sunglasses on and hair arranged to cover up as much of the huge graze she'd sustained on the left hand side of her face the night before. She could follow the path of her fall on the flat, even pavement from her right knee (cut and bruised) to her left knee (bruised) to the side of her left arm (big graze) and finally to the corned beef looking mess behind her sunglasses/hair.
As we all sat around under the blue sky in shorts and t-shirts, some of us feeling a twinge of embarrassment and others just caught in the grip of a hangover. As if confirming the thought we were all having (that the Cyclone Party had caused more damage than the Cyclone itself) Fran sat and colourfully exclaimed "Its not even fucking windy."
Cyclone Inigo which was moving so slowly it had lost a lot of its power, had also turned East and headed inland, meaning it missed us completely. Which just left us to pick up the pieces.
We chilled the rest of the day and went to the beach.
I started reading my PADI Open Water course homework which I had to have done by the start of the course. 3 chapters in 2 days. No Problem. Or so I thought. Having not used my brain in over 3 months, the sudden burst of knowledge made my it feel like a sponge. At first, soaking up all the new TLAs and key points but then slowing down as it reached saturation point. That night we all watched Men in Black 2 in the TV Room before retiring early to bed.
Next day we (Gareth, me and a German girl called Femke) started the PADI. We watched videos of the stuff we should've read in the morning, then went to do some practice dive stuff in the sea.
First up was the 200 meter swim out to sea then back again, then a 10 minute water tread. I had planned on trying to get match fit while I was in Perth by doing laps everyday but Tonsillitis soon put a stop to that. I got about half way to the buoy swimming normally before I started to struggle, trying backstroke and butterfly to try to get my breath back a bit. I spent most of my return trip from the buoy on my back pushing vaguely with my arms and legs like an injured jellyfish. I was OK with the water tread as we could do that 'hold your breath and open out like a starfish' float on top of the water.
That night we went to great place on top of a sand dune Zandra found the night before to watch the sunset.
This is me, Brad (who used to work in Romford), Emma, Fran, Zandra and Gareth.
By the way, of the two triangle buoys on the left of this pic, it was the furthest one.
Zandra had been reading 'The Celestine Prophecy' and apparently the best time to see your own natural energy is at sunrise and sunset. As this wasn't the first theological trip we'd taken this week, we both ended up sitting there, hands balled, index fingers almost together and pointing skywards, concentrating on the space between them. Apparently we were meant to see some kind of ethereal smoke moving though the gap but we kept getting distracted by ever more beautiful sunset.
Coral Bay had some amazing sunsets while we were there but this one took the biscuit. I've never seen the sea go as pink as the sky before.
In my tradition of ruining a perfectly good picture, I figured I'd try and get one of those 'silhouette in front of a sunset' shots. I felt like a tit. I started laughing and this is the result. I was gonna delete it there and then but Brad got really offended that I'd delete his shot and made me promise to put it on the site. So here it is Brad. I look a tit.
We all ended up on the beach that night. I went through my repertoire of constellations, planets, nebulae, satellites and Galaxies. I was even chuffed that they pointed out I was talking arse once my knowledge ran out and I started saying stuff like "and that star there is Yavin IV. Supposedly where the first Death Star was destroyed a looooong time ago."
Next day we carried on doing the PADI and had a few drinks that night because Brad, Emma and Fran were leaving. I realised I was sad to see them go. We had a great little gang when we were all together. I was having such a great time, this felt like the beginning of the end.
I was also being pretty sad as half the jokes G and I said that night were about Nitrogen Narcossis and Adjusted No Decompression Limits... Geeks.
The following day, after saying goodbye to the guys, we did our first dives. I'll write more about them when I do the Underwater pics page.
The final day of the PADI was a strange one. Zandra left, heading back to Sydney for a flight to Singapore then 6 months in Asia. I realised everytime I walked into the dorm, I really missed her. We got on so well that if we were heading even slightly in the same direction, I'd happily change my plans and travel the rest the world with her.
It's funny how you only realise how much you like someone once they're gone. Actually, cancel that, its not funny at all, it sucks! I miss you Z.
On the up side, I got 47 out of 50 on my diving exam. On the downside (I'm still bitter), G got 48. With 47 each, it came down to a question about how often a gas cylinder needs to be visually inspected, (a section we'd skipped over as it was pretty dull) he put a year, I put six months. He guessed right. I don't begrudge his correct guess, Im pissed off at myself for assuming i'd get more than him (he spent loads of time whinging like a bitch about how he hates learning stuff.)
As agreed beforehand (when I arrogantly thought I'd get more than him) I owed him 3 beers.
It was great at the pub that night. Over the week in CB we'd got to know a bunch of the locals via the dive crew and playing pool etc. To top it all off, at the end of the night, the Hip-Hop Bakers were bustin' some bread to sounds of Cyprus Hill. 'Insane in the dough-nuts, Insane in the Pies'