Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Holidays aren't holy days.

So I've just been on a week long holiday. Except it was only 6 days. Except that six days turned out to be five days, because the weather had developed to be.. well, dodgy, and the house didn't feel quite as sturdy as it did on a day that it was sunny. Wind was whistling through gaps we couldn't find, and it was cold and bright all over.

I'll reword that paragraph, shall I?
I just returned from a short holiday to Rottnest.

Rottnest. The island just off the coast of Western Australia, more specifically, Perth. A place of skyrocketed prices

different animals,

massive cake slices,

great bike rides,

and amazing photography.

When it isn't raining, and the wind isn't blowing you sideways.
I suppose most places have the potential for all of that. It depends on how you classify opinion.
Don't think, strictly speaking, that made sense.
I went with my family, and family friends of ours. Annoying, because though my younger brother had someone to hang out with, and my older sister had someone to hang out with, and then when another family joined us for two days they each had even more people, I had absolutely no-one to talk to.
My brother is twelve, very soon thirteen, as is the friend of ours, and as is one of the other people who came.
My sister is disabled, and we had one disabled boy and one girl who gets along with her stay with us.
My mother had her two friends from the families.
I had my phone, rapidly running out of battery without a charger.
But I also had a bike, and a camera. And that made it a decent holiday. As did the cakes. And pasties.

I spent most of my time on the island cycling, taking photos, eating, sleeping, and reading.
Talking to people came after all that.
I behaved like a typical, sulky teenager, which I've never done before, but then, I have never really had a social life to the extent I do now, and all I wanted was to be back on the mainland. (Is that pretentious? Calling it a mainland?)
I got my wish, sure enough, but for the most part, it was for the worse.
I couldn't cycle, and I couldn't take that many photos in the weather conditions we had for the last two days of the trip.
I got in some good ones though, on my early bikerides/walks.

Cyclists on Rottnest were nice. Which is probably a given, seeing as it's the most popular form of transport over there. When I go out for my almost-daily morning bikeride here, all the cyclists are terrible with greetings and smiles, even a bloody nod is too much for them.
Me and my mother are not cyclists, we are bikeriders, and proud of it.
As were most of the people on Rottnest.

All in all?
A craptastic holiday.
Not the given meaning of craptastic, the meaning I give to it.
Fantastic and crap.
All in one.
What a bundle!

Thanks for reading.

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