feed back

We filled out a feedback card at the pub (officially called Hotel Rottnest now) when we were there earlier this month. We are grateful to be added to the database and get Rotto news from yest another source - but the first communication has been surprising.

'Champagne and Oysters July Sat 4th and Sun 5th Oyster shucked fresh to order enjoy with a bottle of French champagne.'

How many oysters? What type of sparkling?

You can also stay for a night in the courtside rooms for $370: you get a $60 hotel dinner voucher, two return ferry tickets, and continental breakfast for two.

If the hotel had read out feedback card it would have wondered if we'd be keen to have diner there. We went on our last night and it wasn't a success: watery linguine that was over-cooked, and a pizza that was too doughy and had too much cheese in the middle.

Maybe that's going to be acknowledged in the second email?

Jacko Rotto

Of course Michael Jackson came to Perth. But did he ever make it to Rotto?

He won the swim-thru, of course, but other evidence is scant. We'll keep searching.

This story had Rottnest up there with the King of Pop: read about Jacko's demise putting Google under the pump. The interest in The Gloved One was "volcanic". But:

'New trains and trams for Melbourne pipped Jackson's death at The Age and dodgy weather on Rottnest Island causing ferry cancellations was more popular in WA.'

Good to know Sandgropers have their priorities right.

my praps

In the past we've criticised ordinary writing about Rottnest, but this is beyond the pale...

She rose with The young lady in his rottnest island his stout stick go anywhere to. it is to. rottnest island I did not frightened any rottnest island creetur to an early grave all three dined together off a beefsteak pie sky rottnest island be instant and said good things for husband to looking at my praps and my face We when all of well by rottnest island miscellaneous taste of source of satisfaction The rugged eloquence with which he spoke was not devoid the shop.

'Beefsteak pie sky Rottnest Island'? 'My praps'? 'Devoid the shop'? Is it a subtle satire on the bakery? Is the site some sort of blogging spam? Now we've seen everything.

If you're on a boat to the beautiful island today you might well be screaming out for your praps. On Wednesday we heard about the ferry cancellations and filed something for the Post. The news dribbled out yesterday - see this WA Today report, for example. It says Oceanic will send one ferry today.

'He could not recall such an extended cancellation of ferry services in his 20 years on the island,' WAT writes about a bloke.

Our information is it's happened twice in recent memory: in 1992 (cyclone) and 1996 (bad weather but not quite cyclonic).

Have a prappy weekend.

poopalot

More travel writing on the beautiful island: Charlene dropped in on Anzac Day and had a blast.

The early start wasn't ideal (“woke up at freaking 6am just to catch the ferry”) and there were complications before she reached the safety of Thomson Bay (“changed to another ferry to rottenest, which btw was rather torturous”).

The motion of the ocean was a concern: “even people like me who never get motion sickness, couldn’t really breathe properly.”

But once safely on firm sandstone the insights began to flow: “i honestly think it’s a place meant for cycling, everywhere you see cyclists around”.

She even snapped a pic of the Wadjemup tour bus: “haha this is not our bus, but took a picture of it cause it looks nice”.

What is the cutest thing about Rotto? Charlene has a good idea: “QUOKKAS! sooooooo freaking cute! i want want want one, even though they poop alot!”

Riding around the island meant more unforgettable sights: “an actual sunken ship from a century ago”.

The summary? “a Saturday well-spent!”.

drips

A Rotto Bloggo reader asked about the forthcoming film and comedy festival on the beautiful island - blow us down if this isn't in tomorrow's Post:

'A film and comedy festival is set for Rottnest Island, but authorities are being tardy with details.
'The Rottnest Island Authority announced the event on its Twitter feed this week.
'"We're getting ready for our brand new film and comedy festival! Detail soon," it said.
'But the authority said information would be "drip drip", to keep people in suspense.'

What's up with this bloke? He strikes the same pose in many of his photos, some of which are on the beautiful island. He reminds us of The Tourist Guy.

Much more soothing is this underwater video of watery Rotto delights. It was taken in January and you can see "...buff bream, wobbegong shark, massive bull stingrays, western blue devil, juvenile jewfish, talma, scalyfin being cleaned, a crayfish being bagged, the skipper freediving and much more."

Rotto Bloggo had to drive to Freo today to transact some business. On the way there the island was peeking through the weather. But on the way back the weather was wilder than Patti Chong's hair, and Rottnest was obscured by rain.

ferry fine

You know you’re on Rottnest when you can set your clock by the ferry.

We’d be gazing at Thomson Bay each morning – thinking about what to do that day, musing on how marvellous Rotto is, pondering whether Kevin Rudd would sound more credible if her impersonated Claire Werbeloff instead of Barry McKenzie – and the Rottnest Express ferry would arrive on the dot of eight AM.

Rottnest Express is the ferry of choice for Rotto Bloggo. Mrs RB wouldn’t entrust Kevin, her pistachio Pathfinder, to anyone else.

Rottnest Express delivered our papers every morning and got us to and from the gorgeous holiday island.

The staff are excellent: we were able to change our return trip with no worries, and we’ve even included here a pic of the safety demonstration on board.

They have the best-looking craft, and provide a very comfortable trip.

AND the company supports Canteen.

Here are some pics of the RE ferry and staff in action today, plus a bonus shot of one of their coaches.

Rottnest Express provided our ferry tix for free. We’re grateful!

day 12 eats

Yesterday it was time for work: restaurant reviewing.

We can't hope to approach the excellence of the Beaufort Street Bloggers, but we'll appropriate a few of their devices in our assessment of...Aristos Waterfront Rottnest.

To eat well on Rotto, you usually bring your own ingredients, utensils and recipes. Rotto Bloggo has scoffed some marvellous food on the holiday island playground over the years: eggplant moussaka, tuna mornay, spicy lentil soup, olive and garlic pizza, upsaide-down pear gingerbread...all made in various spots in Thomson, Longreach and Geordie Bays in sometimes-unreliable ovens.

Or you can go to Subway or Red Rooster

Admittedly there's Dome, which is reliable. There used to be the Tearooms (where Aristos is now). The Geordie Bay cafe is only open in summer, but we've heard good reports about it.

Our Aristos expectations weren't high: we've previously blogged about the high prices. But then again everything on Rotto costs a bit more.

We ambled in on Thursday lunchtime. The dreaded muzak was warbling away. Very few people were lunching - it all seemed a bit cavernous. Everywhere on Rottnest has muzak. Is it really a good thing, or do we sound a bit old?

We studied the menu. Your bog standard fish and chips start at $16.50, and the top end red emperor and chips goes for $29.50.

One bbq prawn is five bucks. The costliest item is the hot seafood platter for two: $89.50 nets you lobster morney, calamari, bbq prawns, scallops, oysters Kilpatrick, and grilled and fried fish.

A Rottnest lobster is $46, seafood chowder is $12.50 and Aristos is practically giving away the dim sims and crab sticks: four bucks for three.

Don't bring any booze: signage says until they get a liquor licence, corkage per bottle is $7.50. Instead, you can get Madfish plonks, Leeuwin Estate Prelude for $49 a bottle, a Crownie or a Corona for eight bucks, or a bottle of Louis Roederer Brut for $115.

Mrs Rotto Bloggo opted for the grilled whiting and chips (a $22.50 special). We had the beer batter f&c. Our associates - the Troublemaker and the Print Princess, who were recognised 'cos they were also in there the day before - also went for the whiting.

First good sign was when our waiter, Kepper, came to the table and said the chef advised the whiting would be better crumbed or fried. It was a texture thing. Mrs RB nodded in agreement.

You normally go up and collect your food at AWR, but we were getting on so well with Kepper he brought it to us. Excellent service - and the food was just as good.

The whiting was firm and light, the crumb wasn't too thick and not dry: "lovely" was Mrs RB's assessment. Four generous fillets.

Our bog standard f&c was just as good. Light batter, perfectly fried. Top chips that weren't too salty. Fresh lemon to squeeze. The only blemish: cheap and nasty squeeze sachets of Masterfoods tartare sauce. Is it so hard to whip up a bowl of tartare and dob a bit on the side. It's so much classier.

Afterwards it was long blacks all round. AWR uses Fiori Coffee, and the drinks made by Kepper were pretty good. Far superior to that stuff they serve at the bakery.

The food was served in bento-style boxes. We didn't mind - the official reason is they're saving on labout costs during the slow winter - butdozen others wondered if it wasn't a bit cheap.

There were half-a-owls on the counter: they deploy these in the warmer months to deter the seagulls. Better than that fishing line that used to be starpped to the roof and rail at the Tearooms.

In summary...

Service: The service was so good we wondered if Rotto had been towed from WA to off Cape Town.

Food: High quality: fish and chips are pretty basic, but hard to find flaws here.

Ambience: In the depths of winter, it has a hint of the echoing draughty food hall, and the muzak doesn't help.

Highlight: Crumbed whiting, service.

Lowlight: The monstrous corkage and the Masterfoods sachets.

Rating: 4.1 joey quokkas out of 5.

Will we be back: Sure!

day 11

We're at day 11 on our fabulous Rotto sojourn, but this post is about day 9.

Read on for the hard-hitting report which may or may not be in the Post...

A large male known to authorities slept it off on the beach in front of Rottnest Island’s Quokka Arms hotel this week.

The 1.5m-long rare Australian sea lion was washed up in Thomson Bay on Wednesday morning.

It could have been exhausted and blown off course by stormy weather the night before, or deliberately taken refuge from the wind and rain, experts said.

Holidaymaker Kym Cohen was the first to discover the sea lion, at half-past seven in the morning.

She was worried the big mammal was dead, and whistled to see if it was awake.

“It lifted its head and looked at me, and then plonked back down,” Mrs Cohen said.

At first she thought it was a seal.

“I’d seen seals near the island’s West End the other day, and I thought he was a bit far from home.”

The animal was wet, covered in sand and lying on its side with its eyes closed.

“It has scars and old wounds, but I couldn’t see any fresh injuries,” Mrs Cohen said.

Another bystander called a Rottnest Island Authority ranger, who came and inspected the sea lion.

He took photos and emailed them to Department of Environment and Conservation marine mammal specialist Doug Coughran.

A fence was erected on the beach around the sea lion.

Sea lions have big teeth and can be aggressive.

They can weigh up to 300kg.

Senior Constable Matt Oakley from Rottnest police said sea lions were rarely washed up in Thomson Bay.

“About half a dozen live at Dyer Island, near Henrietta Rocks,” Snr Const. Oakley said.

“They come in and sun themselves on the beach there where it’s quieter.

“This one was probably exhausted by the storm on Tuesday night and ended up here.

“He’s just having a rest.”

Snr Const. Oakley was glad the sea lion was washed up on the popular beach on a quiet winter weekday, instead of a busy summer weekend.

Mr Coughran told the POST the sea lion was well-known to him.

“He normally lives at Carnac Island and Dyer Island,” Mr Coughran said.

“In the wild sea lions live to about 12 years old, and this bloke is about 10.

“We all start to look pretty ugly when we get old.”

Older sea lions lose their rank to younger animals, and they often ‘haul out’ of the water to recuperate on a beach.

“But normally it’s out of sight of the public,” Mr Coughran said.

“The rangers sent us very good diagnostic photos, and the sea lion’s body condition was very good.”

Australian sea lions are rare: there are only about 10,000 in existence.

They live in WA and South Australia and are protected by government legislation.

day 10

Both bars on and Vim under the sink this morning: rain has kept us housebound.

The plan was to go fishing at 0630, but the rain put someone off. Rotto Bloggo's associate said it was too wet, and he only bought two pairs of pants.

I ask you. Did Diggers at Gallipoli refuse to go ashore because their trousers might get wet?

So we were here for the savoury muffins whicked up by Mrs Rotto Bloggo. She used a packet mix but enlivened it with feta, spinach and some other goodies.

Local Blog Man That Cooks has an amusing riff about Rotto: the culinary chap was recently on the beautiful island and made baked beans. He used tinned tomatoes.

Rotto is "a rocky outcrop 12 miles off the coast of Perth that's covered with scrub and salt lakes and tiny rat-like kangaroos that shit everywhere. Accommodation is ex-prison, turn of the century worker's cottage, post-WWII migrant camp, or 1970's unit complex for upper level Soviet bureaucrats. The only vehicles are service vehicles, two police cars and buses. One of them is an aboriginal tour bus and I wonder if they're too polite to mention that under the ground is the bones of their incarcerated ancestors."

But then he lists some of the benefits, and concludes: "It's like the idealised caravan park of my youth without the caravan and without the roller rink."

Then: "There's a lot of guff about Rottnest being the holiday spot for the average West Australian. It's not. It's actually filled with AB demographic Western Suburbanites slumming it. But it does retain some magic and it's this – holiday spots are now places for resorts or holiday homes. Resorts always feel like someone else's place and holiday homes are now more like the home you have in the suburbs. Get in the car, go to the supermarket, get back in the car. I'm just wondering why they can't create communities like at Rottnest, on the mainland."

Is trueness? An associate did spot Reg 'The Toecutter' Withers on Rotto this week. With him were other crusty old buffers resembling Liberal Party dinosaurs.

However: a letter in The West today is from a Bunbury woman who makes an annual pilgrimage to Rottnest every year, and challenges the paper to locate somewhere by the beach that's just as good for $250 a night.

Check out Man That Cook's baked beans here - sounds good.

day 9

We couldn't help but notice this spelling error on a unit in northern Thomson Bay. Cusak? Is it Polish?

It amazes me how much you can get done when you're on holiday.

We're tearing through the books. Mrs Rotto Bloggo is on to Orwell; an associate is reading Alain de Botton, RB is enjoying a photo-journalist memoir. And there's plenty more where they came from.

This morning we were at Longreach on another epic fishing expedition. Another associate almost/nearly hauled in a huge tailor. But it "fell off" his lure with a metre to go. Rotto Bloggo caught nothing. It was a dramatic spot: howling early morning wind, pounding waves, jutting sandstone. See pic for RB associate doing his thing.

Later it was time for a swim at the Basin. Not so much a basin as a Westinghouse or Whirlpool. The surging surf was still happening after the angling. We went in armed with goggles and spied the herring we didn't catch earlier. The water was surprisingly and agreeably temperate. Foreign tourists cycling past paused to marvel at the Australian enthusiasm for swimming in any season.

The other photo is of a newsworthy event, but we can't say too much at this stage. Stay tuned and we will reveal all in a day or two.

day 8 nautical but nice

First, some answers to readers' questions:
Liz, Mrs Rotto Bloggo says Kevin is "performing well, but needs a few minor adjustments once back on the mainland". It's believed these changes involve (but aren't restricted to) the handlebars. Mrs RB has only had to get off the bike once, which is a substantial improvement on previous trips.
Cookster: the dugite situation is manageable. In that there have been none, it's too cold for them. You can't see the dugites for the black skinks.
Paul: thanks for the offer of a box of vegies. But send more Bolly.


Today has been nautical. Imagine our excitement when from the comfort of our luxury premium view pad we spotted a submarine. Our photo here may not be absolutely crystal-clear. But we can assure you that tiny black blob on the horizon is a big black submarine, steaming full speed ahead on the surface. We heard a sound like a rusty washing machine being tossed down a ravine, but that doesn't mean it was an Australian Collins class sub. The sound and vision may well have been unrelated.

A long walk today took in the Thomson Bay wildlife. Mrs RB perched on a cliff, fruitlessly searching for a dolphin sighting. She's seen seals and pelicans, and she wants to cross dolphins, whales and turtles off her list too. No joy today - perhaps tomorrow? We did see what might have been a krill ball thrashing about in the water, which raised our hopes of seeing a dolphin, but not just yet.

Later we angled off the army jetty. A combination of weather, time of day and portents meant we caught four-fifths of fuck-all. No herring for breakfast tomorrow.

Incidentally, this morning's herring was a real treat. Not smoked: fried in a hot pan, tail and all. It led to a stinky kitchen, much smoke that nearly set off the alarm, and a terribly scorched pan that took a lot of elbow grease to get clean again. But the fish? It. Was. Delicious.

At the time of writing it's dark. Nautical things have been put aside for now. An associate is farting on the couch - it may be time for some fresh air and a walk down to the army jetty. It must have been the lentils for lunch and beans for dinner.

Tomorrow? Only time will tell. It might be raining...big sleep in, or brave the elements for another epic fishing experience?

day 6 west end boys and girls

We've had tougher trips out to the West End. We once went on an old bike with no gears. It took half a day.

Yesterday's 10.5km cycle to the other end of the island was fabulous. And when we got there we had the place to ourselves for a while, until a contractor's vehicle arrived.

It's so quiet here during the week in winter.

We ambled along the walkways inspecting the goannas and lizards. Then we went down to the beach. We scrambled out to Rottnest's most-western point. We wanted to edge out along the reef to the most-western rocks, but there was a surging surf and sanity prevailed.


Lunch and a swim, and then on the way back we stopped off at Cathedral Rocks to see the seals.

Another stop and Green Island where we swam with the herring and salmon, found a squid jig on the floor of the bay, and was mildly disconcerted to find a huge black stingray swimming below us.

No fishing at Green Island - the jetty had three people on it - so we went to Parakeet and hauled in one herring.

Home for roasted gnocchi and vegetables and some quality plonk. Even though the reception is terrible we sat through Media Watch on the ABC. The reception on other channels is better, so we caught up with the Tracey Grimshaw/Gordon Ramsay bunfight.

day 6

You might have been to Rottnest a hundred times but you always find something new to marvel over.

Yesterday was another fabulous day. After a leisurely breakfast in the forecourt of our premium view pad we ventured out.

(The place was tres busy yesterday. Many people over for the Sunday session at the hotel. Many boats out in Thomson Bay. One was called Kost-U-Moet. It was lively Saturday night, and then yesterday most of the boats departed.)

Anyway...we walked south of South Thomson to the natural jetty and watched the waves crash from two directions.

Then we trekked south by Bickley Bay to Bickley Point, marvelled at Wallace Island and Jubilee Rocks, and then strode inland.

We'd never seen the Bickley Point Battery Trail before and learnt new things about the island's WWII history.



On Bickley Bay Mrs Rotto Bloggo saw a carcase - a bird, possibly a seagull, maybe something bigger. Not even her vet nurse healing hands could bring it back to life.

As you can see from the photos the vistas are magnificent.

After out stroll we pigged out at Dome, read (we're on Bled to the Gutter by John Phillips, Mrs RB knocked off Cormac McCarthy's The Road) and then ate pasta and chocolate pudding for dinner.

The pink sky at sunset was very Rottnest and extremely soothing. We almost forgot about the swine flue scare in the western suburbs.

Agreeable. It was so restful watching people pack to leave while we are staying here.


Next post: our epic journey to the West End, and how we nearly did a Steve Irwin.

day 5 in haven

Here we are in the haven for the rich. Rotto Bloggo would like to distance ourselves from any perception people who spend time here are loaded. (Mind you, the pic of that Bolly bottle the other day was noted by a couple of people).

You save and save for a nice bottle of sparkling and for your Rottnest holiday and yet people still are so critical. The rest of the time we've been on stale bread and tap water. Honest.

Speaking of bread. This week some of the bakery's output was burnt and not for sale. Oops. Fortunately our $5.50 vegetarian pasty was unburnt.

We had our pasty on another epic fishing trip. First was Armstrong Point. We pulled in cod (or cobbler). Then we moved to Little Armstrong Bay, which yielded more cod/cobbler, herring, an angry black thing (pictured) which was returned to the deep, and a wrasse, which was also thrown back.

No whiting or tailor. Perhaps next time. But we did see the moon, bobtail goannas, quokkas and various craft out on the water.

The women had a swim but didn't detect the warming surge of the Leeuwin Current. It was freezing.


Another day in (non-rich haven) paradise.

Tomorrow it could be time to hike out to the West End and whale-watch.

We've knocked off David Lodge's Therapy (marvellous). Mrs Rotto Bloggo knocked off On Chesil Beach (absorbing).

unlikely tail

Another wonderful day in paradise.

We went for a big bike ride. We explored the delights of Parakeet Bay (and saw the littlest Rottnest beach ever).

We saw a bobtail goanna sunning itself on the side of the road on the way to Parakeet.

It was all sun, sand and the freshest air in the world.


But: it wasn't quite all sweetness and light. There was a medical emergency. At Longreach, between unit 801 and the public toilets, we espied a quokka who was in poor shape. He was, in a phrase, in lateral recumbancy.

Mrs RB - a healing-hands vet nurse - was quickly off her bike and at the side of the patient. She immediately recognised a dodgy tail (or, for you non-medical readers, a tail afflicted with a noma).

What to do? We called the ranger. Hopefully he arrived in good time.

Otherwise, it was more Scrabble, a room-full of journos with much alcohol and pizza, opportunistic seagulls, postcards home, a long black at Dome, discussion of the Easter Cup, crayons (don't ask), and a quick trip to the pub.

Tomorrow promises to be even better: a journey to the West End is on the cards. Watch this space...

day 4

The promise of high drama last night. An associate reported five drunken youths trying to force beer down a quokka's throat at the hotel. Mrs RB grabbed her torch, I checked I had the ranger's number in my phone, and off we went in search of any wrongdoing.

But all was quiet. Plenty of quokkas roaming around, but none looked drunk or distressed.

Yesterday was another wonderful day in paradise. Fed the herring scraps to the gulls on the beach and had the fish for lunch. Went to the army jetty again to watch an associate reeling in many herring. Marvellous eggplant moussaka for dinner. Won a game of Scrabble, lost a game of Scrabble. Went on walks. Watched the evening TV news - that doesn't happen often, as we're rarely home before it's on. Everyone is very upset at The Chaser.

Finished our first book: a Japanese novel called Ring. It was only three stars. A journalist discovers four people die exactly a week after watching a video. He finds the video and watches it - and thus has a week to live unless he works out what he has to do. Over-written and implausible. And the story continues in the next book.

Have now started on an essay collection, and David Lodge's Therapy. A pic today shows the pile of books to be consumed.


Other pics are of Mrs RB watching clips of The Triffids on YouTube, some night quokka action, and a night pic of the hotel.

No firm plans for today. But we're sure it will be fabulous.

day 3

It's cold, wet, windy - perfect Rottnest weather.

The whole morning has been spent inside our (unnamed) premium view villa. Reading (books and newspapers), eating, bickering over how to make coffee, having the odd Pinteresque conversation, watching the black clouds scoot overhead...delightful.

(There may be a break in the weather: Mrs Rotto Bloggo reports the sun is shining on the natural jetty. Mr Percival and confreres are bobbing about).

Today's pics are the sunrise, a bit of rope on the beach we thought was flotsam but turned out to be someone's tie, and RB hard at work on Teh Intertubes.

We also had a look at Dez Smith's pictures of Rotto.

Time for a holiday haiku...

Heaving seas outside
But winter is content in
Placid Thomson Bay.

herring happiness

What a fabulous day. Minigolf, a late lunch of antipasto and cheese and wasabi mayo, reading, and then epic fishing off the army jetty.

We came home with a dozen herring, but it was a cold hard slog. Half an hour in there was driving rain and a piercing wind. Our fingers went numb. More than one herring jumped off the hook as it was being pulled from the water.

Never mind. These things are good for character. The fillets are safely in the fridge ready for breakfast tomorrow.

The minigolf was fun. But the course is a blend of run-down and renovated. See pic for an associate having to dig his ball out of the ground.

The steep bakery prices have also been mentioned - inevitably. Our sources revealed to us the bread is cheaper on Christmas Island (another Indian Ocean wonder of the world). What to do? Not a lot.

Can't wait to smoke some of that herring. The octopus is next.

Rottnest: perfect one day, sublime the next. Some associates went to the museum today, behind the store: interesting information, fascinating displays, helpful staff...contrast that for $16.50 for an apple danish, two very ordinary coffees in styrofoam cups and a jam donut for $15.60.

Tomorrow: more fishing, act up about muzak on Rotto, buy more bait, and a nice sleep-in.

day 2

We watched the first Rottnest Express ferry come in from our premium view pad. Seagulls are squawking. Last night's rain is evaporating. Does it get any better than this?

Well, it could. Frankly we're a little disappointed our place doesn't have a name. The names run out halfway down Nappy Alley/South Thomson. There are bungalows called Love, Ship, Gull et al - but ours is just a number.

Imagine having a place named after you here. Now that is happening. Rotto Bloggo dreams of the day we can book into Cohen. It's be like being called Onslow, and living on Onslow Road - but like a hundred times better.

What's on for today? Once our hangover is safely out of the way there could be some mini-golf at the Brett Heady Family Fun Park. And it could be timely to wet a line later.

Mrs Rotto Bloggo is keen to test out her new wheels. We're calling them the K-Rudd Pistachio Pathfinder, as it was thanks to the PM's generosity she bought it. She also refers to it as Kevin, which isn't quite distinguished enough, we think. It's getting top treatment so far: as soon as it started to rain last night it was brought in to a warm dry place and had a rub-down with a towel.

More pics later today...

first night in paradise

The sunset was marred by the raucous muzak blaring from the expensively-renovated pub. We asked for the muzak to be turned down - but no joy.

Ah well. These minor imperfections haven't affected our delight at being on the greatest holiday spot in the world. This is truly paradise. We've had requests to show photographic evidence of the old Rotto - that will be forthcoming in the next few days. But for now we have pics of what's on sale in the Thomson Bay store, and what was on the drinks menu in our digs.

Can the store flog tiny packets of chips when they're stamped with 'Not for individual/separate sale'?? They were only 50c.

We knocked back some delightful Bolly - Bollinger to you - at dinner tonight. The taste was a revelation. Crisp yet intriguing. Dry yet insightful. Yes, we are Bollinger Bolsheviks. Bring on October and revolution.


Check in tomorrow for details about fishing, lunching and strolling around the 63 bays and 20 beaches...or is it 63 beaches and 20 bays?