'A sweet-toothed, paint-splattered handyman.'

It was dry but cloudy...and the perfect day to start the painting jobs Dulcie wanted doing.Today I painted the front verandah.We got the paint weeks ago but either the weather was far too hot, too wet or we were not around to do it when the weather was suitable.I swept it first. Dulcie took her plastic chair in that she sometimes sits in and watches the World go by from and the doormat. There is also a flower box in front of the window."Do you want some help with that?" asked the 91 year old lady."I think I can manage, " I said.I painted the verandah floor, the steps up to it, the outside door to the man-cave and after lunch painted all the railings around the verandah and on the stairs. The railings were very fiddly and took the longest to do....about fifty 1cm square bars!!!!She popped out every now and again, during the adverts in 'The Virginian', to check on my progress and give me the weather report."It's 29 degrees. 'The Virginian's good today," she said, "sometimes it's a pile of crap, but not today."29 degrees. That's pretty hot but it didn't feel like 29 degrees...I must be acclimatising well."You're not a messy painter are you?" she said."I try not to be," I said.There are other painting jobs to do but that was enough for one day.

The job done.

Neptune's Camera.

For those of you wondering what became of the camera that languished in the Coral Sea for about 2 hours...we attempted to dry it out by putting it in rice until we left Fiji. Will suggested that rather than keep the battery slot closed I put rice inside the camera too to help it dry out quicker.On arriving back in Brisbane I replaced the battery and tried to recharge the camera but nothing happened and no lights came on. However the next day, when I tried again...the battery charging light came on...as did the display which wanted me to change the clock settings.Things were looking up.I left the battery charging until the light went off and then pressed the 'on' button. Nothing happened.I noticed that there was a grain of rice still stuck in the memory card slot and in trying to get it out with a pair of scissors completely knackered the memory card slot...so that now the memory card will not fit in it.The memory card still works however and I have not lost any pictures...but I might as well throw the camera back in the sea!(I won't of course...because I am environmentally friendly!)

Good for nothing.

So...I am finally no longer a visitor, but a legal resident of the Land Down Under.It was all a bit of a damp squib after waiting 8 months...no fireworks, no three cheers, just three tuneless men in loud shirts wailing out a song I didn't know or understand and a chicken stew with tagliatelle in a tin at 30,000 feet above New Caledonia.Not even a 'Welcome to Australia' from the sour faced Immigration woman at Brisbane airport. I think you have to be miserable to do that job. All immigration officers must be locked in a room with clowns and comedians until all their sense of humour is used up and spent and then they let them out to scowl and frown for the rest of their working lives.So...what do I do now? It's kind of an end, definitely of a chapter if not the whole book. Where do I go from here?My application for recognition by the Queensland College of Teachers is in...and I have heard from them to say that it may take up to 12 weeks to process...Can you believe it?...Why?...Are they too weak to open the envelope?...Are they still learning to read?...Can they not find a pen? Just read the damn form and look at all my evidence, which would take less than half an hour and say "OK." It's probably because they are all too busy surfing and I don't mean on't t'internet.12 weeks...that's April!I have looked at part time jobs that are available at the moment around here... not many. It's going to be hard because I only want to work Monday, Tuesday one week and Monday to Wednesday the next week to fit in with Will...and how is that going to fit in with them. On top of all that I can only tell stories, count up to 100, add and subtract perhaps up to 100 with growing confidence, paint with my fingers, do a forward roll and at a pinch a passable teddy roll, do a three pigs dance, know all the words to Puff the Magic Dragon (Which I hate!) and make a decent Santa's grotto...none of which are skills I have seen people crying out for. Am I qualified to dish out coleslaw at Woolworths? (They'd never get me touching their stuffed olives or stinky cheese). Could I handle the stress of being a 'crew member' at Hungry Jacks when there is a rush on for whoppers?I think I am good for nothing...I don't even have the qualifications to be a barista!...and that's just making coffee.It is still early days though...Rome wasn't built in a day...in fact there are parts of it that are not even finished...like that Coliseum thingy.

Paradise's Revenge!

We were both awakened at 3.00am by very heavy rain on the roof and we never really slept well after that.Will rose at 7.45 am with an upset tummy and the World began to fall out of his bottom.He thought it might be the fishcakes ha had had at lunch yesterday. It was not good at any time least of all the day you are travelling by plane.We packed our bags and took them over to Reception and went for breakfast. Will did not have anything to eat. We were served by a woman from the village that had helped look for Mary yesterday for me. She did not introduce herself but laid her hand on my shoulder and said,“You like massage?”“Yes, very good,” I said.Will watched me eat hotcakes with maple syrup and bananas.“You leave today?” She was back with her hand on my shoulder.I nodded.“Awww,” she said, squeezing my shoulder.“She likes you” said Will.“Well,” I said, “I would not be surprised if Mary has spread word of my fine body.” I stuffed some more pancake in my mouth.We went to the office to hand in our key and the receptionist said our car was waiting.We trundled down with our bags. The same car we had arrived in was waiting for us but no one was in it. So we waited for the driver to appear.He did eventually....from the back seat. He was lying down, having a nap. He had been up since 3.00 am. (We knew how he felt.) He was called Raj.We set off.“Ask me any questions, I am yours. Your driver,” he said, “only yours.”We had no questions. It was a quiet journey compared to the one down with Kasim.The air-con was freezing and eventually when he saw me shivering, he turned it down a bit.We got to Nadi just before lunch time.We thanked Raj...with a tip...I know....but he had his own sob stories and three children to provide for.Will went straight off to find the ‘facilities’ for awhile. There were lots of Fijian children riding around and pushing each other on luggage trolleys. I wondered if they were actually travelling or had just come in for the fun of it.We checked in fairly easily and knew that as she handed me my boarding pass that I was officially, finally entitled to stay in Australia indefinitely. There was no fanfare but there were three tuneless Fijian singers playing ukuleles in the departure lounge. Thankfully it was not permanently...it was only when a flight was boarding.Will got some water and we sat and waited. He went off to change our Fijian money into Australian dollars and to use the’ facilities’again. I looked up from my book and saw him standing at the currency exchange counter across the hall and went back to reading. Time passed and he didn’t return. I looked up and he was not at the currency exchange anymore. I couldn’t see him anywhere so just assumed he would be at toilets.“Excuse me,” said a man. “Are you Nick?”“Yes, “ I said.“Will is over there, he says can you come? He is not feeling very well.”I picked up our hand luggage and walked over with the man. Will was white and shaking and sat on a chair.“I think I need a doctor,” he said.I went all around the departure lounge looking for the information desk but could not find it. I went back to Will.“Ask at the shop then,” he said. I asked a girl in the cafe and she pointed out a security man.I told him Will was ill and if there was a doctor around. He asked which flight we were on and I showed him where we were sat and went back to Will. He did look awful.“I feel sick and my hands are numb, “ he said.A Virgin Australia steward came over. (He was definitely on our plane...if you catch my drift).He asked Will how long he had felt bad and what he had eaten. He said it was common for people to get sick from fish in Fiji. He suggested a sugary drink so I went and bought one. When I got back there were two stewardesses there as well.“We will have to decide if you are fit enough to travel,” said one. “You might have to go on a later flight. Have you been sick?”He hadn’t.“If you are sick on the plane,” she said, “we have to call quarantine when we get to Australia.” It sounded ominous and not the triumphant entry I had hoped for.Will had had some of the Gatorade I’d bought and was feeling a little better.She asked for our boarding cards and went off to see what she could do.Will lay down and had a rest and after awhile had perked up a bit but he still looked pretty dreadful. The stewardess came back to see how he was. He said he was a bit better. She said the flight was not full so she had changed our seats to the back where Will could lie down across the row if he wanted.We were allowed to go...it was a relief.They were so lovely on the plane. They brought him water and lemonade before we took off. He was given a cushion and a pillow and a dry bread roll...which had more chance of staying down. The stewardess who had been helping us was the leading stewardess on the flight and she also gave us express passes to get through immigration and customs in Brisbane. She offered to call ahead for a wheel chair...but he declined.“Oh,” I said, “That would have been so good for “Possum!”The flight was supposed to 3 hours and 25 minutes but we did it in only 3 hours.We flew in over the Aldi where I take Dulcie shopping. I took a photo for her.At immigration the woman officer looked at my card and passport.“You are moving here now are you?” she asked.“Yes,” I said.She stamped my passport and handed it back.‘Hmmpff’ I thought, ‘ you could have said ‘Welcome to Australia’.’We are back in Brisbane. Will is feeling a little better...he has even said he is feeling a bit hungry.Dulcie was glad to see us back.She is still outraged over the kiwi fruit from Italy.“Have you tried them,” I asked.“Nah, I’ll not!” she said.

The laying on of hands.

There was rain this morning. It was overcast with no sign of the blue ceiling of our previous days here.We went up for breakfast. Tomtika was there and she said she had to go to the dentist and would we meet her at 5.00pm instead?We read back in our room for a bit as there were a few heavy showers before heading up to use the internet for an hour.I had my book with me and the girl from the young couple next door but one to us said;“Oh, we are reading the same book.”Will said “I’m reading it to, but on the Ipad.”We chatted about the books for a bit. They were from Sydney, her boy friend was British, from Nottinghamshire. He had a very plummy accent.  They had met at University in Dublin last April and he had come out to live with her at her parents in Sydney. Regarding the Game of Thrones books we were reading...she said the actor who played Joffrey in the television series was also at the same university and she said she always felt sorry for him when people shouted “We hope you die!” at him. She said he was keen to get out of acting.“Well, he is not in the series much longer is he? “ I said. She looked dumb...I don’t think she had got to that bit in the book yet.We had lunch. I had another Fisherman’s Basket and Will had Fishcakes. The other young couple were also there. They were from Australia. The Hootenpoopen’s walked past on their way down to the beach...we never saw them again or the ‘chavs’.After Lunch I bit the bullet and decided to wander down to the village and surrender unto Mary for a massage. Will came down and had a swim in the sea while I wandered along the beach to find her. I asked for her at the shop.“Bula! Come in! Take a seat! We go find her,” said the shopkeeper with the gap in her teeth.A girl was lying on the floor on a woven palm mat playing with a baby.“Here is the souvenir shop, come see,” said the gappy shopkeeper. I had already been in the other day but went in again.I went out and sat on a chair on the verandah/cafe. The girl on the floor had a small ipad and was amusing the baby with it. The gappy shopkeeper came and sat near me.“Mary is somewhere where there is a television. Fiji are playing rugby against New Zealand. She got out her mobile phone, punched in some numbers and started chattering in Fijian. These people live in nothing more than beach shacks yet have all the up to date technology.“We cannot find her,” said the shop keeper.“ I don’t think she will want to be dragged away from the rugby,” I said. “I will come back later.”“At three o’clock?” said the shopkeeper.“Fine” I said.I went back to the beach deck and read some of my book for a bit and wandered back at three.The shopkeeper was sat on a log hacking at what looked like large limes. There was a guy standing next to her. I recognised him and thought he was the ‘diving guy’ from the next resort who had been trying to drum up custom at The Wellesley. It wasn’t though. He was one of the three Americans...the ‘film crew’. He was there to have some lunch and while I waited for someone to go and find Mary again I got the chance to ask him what work he did. He was a tiler...oh, I was disappointed.The gappy shopkeeper asked if I wanted to try one of the nuts she was hacking. They were ‘vutu’ nuts. I thought she said voodoo nuts. I was a bit wary. I’d never heard of them.“They are like your peanuts”, she said. They were, but bigger. I took one from her and ate it.“You like another?”“No, thank you.” I said.“Where is your partner?” She asked, obviously not born yesterday.“He’s having a swim,” I said.A skinny little dog came out of a house and lay down in the dirt in a patch of sunlight. Its ribs were sticking out. ‘Give my other vutu nut to that,’ I wanted to say.Eventually Mary was found and she was apparently waiting for me at her massage shack on the beach. I thanked the shopkeeper for her help and said “have a good lunch,” to the tiler.It turned out that Fiji beat New Zealand. I was relieved at least Mary was in a good mood for the massage. I’d never had a massage before and was not really that bothered about having one but felt that after saying I might that first day I really should and also if we were going to spend money I would rather it went to people in the village.I took off my t- shirt and lay on the table...it was the proper thing with the hole for your face. She went for water to wash my sandy feet. There was a bottle of what looked like chip oil standing on the side.I just closed my eyes and thought of England.She started on my shoulders and neck. ‘Do you make conversation whilst having a massage?’ I wondered.“Where did you learn to do massage?” I asked.“From a book,” she said.“Oh,” I thought. I didn’t know what a trained masseuse felt like so I don’t know whether it was good or not.She definitely had firm hands. There was little talk after that apart from her asking,“Is good?” and me squeaking, “yes.”It was very relaxing especially with the sound of the waves in the background. I got a bit tense when she started to ease down my shorts a little to do my lower back and a bit later when she put one of her big hands on my buttocks while massaging my legs.There was a sudden rain storm and I lifted my head out of the hole in the table to look. There were two Fijian men standing in the sea in the rain waving and making kissing noises...I don’t know if they were waving at me or Mary, but I waved back.I was covered in the chip oil. It made me think if it was a skill passed down through the centuries, the basting of foreigners, before they were finally roasted.“Turn over please,” she said.Heck!The next tense bit was when she was stood behind my head rubbing her oily hands down my chest. She is a big woman and I dared not open my eyes. Her chest must have just been millimetres from my face. I tried not to think about it and tried to relax my arms. She rubbed my ears a lot which I thought was a bit strangeFinally it was over.“You look like a new man,” she said.‘Yes,’ I thought...’but greasier.’I wandered back down the beach and went in for a swim...a small oil slick formed and half a dozen sea birds had to be rescued and taken away to be cleaned.I had a shower back in the room. At 5.00 pm we went down to the beach again to meet Talaki. She was going to take us to the village...we waited for about 45 minutes...allowing for Fijian time...i.e. no rush...but she never came.The beardy Americans went out on the kayaks and the next time we looked they had completely disappeared from view. I was a bit worried but they turned up at Dinner.The two young couples were dining together tonight. I think they were feasting on the fish that the plumy lad and his girlfriend had caught earlier in the day when they had been out fishing with one of the men from the village. They came back with three large coral fish...which Raj must have cooked for them.Kimy was there.“Next time you come, you stay in the village. I cook for you.”“And I will cook for you,” said Will.“I give you my email address.”She did give it us but it was written so indecipherably that we will never be able to contact her.I bet she says that to all the guests.