I’m sitting in a chapel in what used to be a monastery on the Great Ocean Road, just out of Apollo Bay. I’m wearing my street clothes and a pair of pink, sparkly rubber boots. There is a nip of Mr Black’s Coffee liqueur in a glass in from of me. I had to drive the last hour of the windy road in the dark, having to remember that the car did have high beam and I was allowed to use it. Something about city driving has got me out of ever using high beam unless there is a wanker in front of you or you need to remind somebody to put their lights on who’s driving in the opposite direction.
The car was surreptitiously packed over the workday. A suitcase here, my alcohol supplies there, the bag which contains my writing implements, tarot cards and other stuff were sneaked down to the car. A quick trip to the supermarket for a packet of Barbeque Shapes and a bar of Turkish Delight for the road was made.
The last thing into the car was my recalcitrant cat, Lucifer, who, knowing that I was going away, decided to hide for half an hour before I finally got to scruff him and get him into his carry cage. He’s now sitting at Aunty Blarney’s in the cupboard. He’s a good boy. As long as he’s eating, drinking, weeing and pooing in his litter box and not destroying anything all will be well. It’s only two days. I already miss him. Who is going to sleep between my legs tonight? I am surrounded by women. I don’t run that way.
With all the travel back and forth to Darwin, I'm a lot better at getting myself packed. There are a couple of things that need to come with me down to this meeting of like-minded souls that occurs three times a year.
These are my special items.
My pillow.
I’m not normally a bring your pillow person, but for the retreat, it’s needed. I’m sleeping in what’s known as a “Nun Hole”. The room used to be a confessional – it now contains a very comfortable single bed, a small bedside table and a lamp. It’s all I need. The pillow helps me get of to sleep a bit more quickly. A tab of melatonin will also come in handy.
My Pink Sparkly Gumboots
These were acquired at the last winter Writer’s Retreat, where I bought them off the trading table, having not bought any reasonable footwear down with me. I think at the time I was just coming out of an awful job where I’d been working too hard and too long. And there these boots were, sitting there saying, “Pick me!” They are my size. They are comfortable. And they are sensible for wearing in the country.
The thing is, I hate pink. I don’t wear pink. I go out of my way not to wear pink. But there is something about pink sparkly gumboots which scream, “You can only have fun wearing me – run with it.”
I’ll wear the pink, sparkly gumboots for the duration of the retreat, No point getting my ugg boots wet.
Various charging cords
First world issue – but travelling back and forth from Darwin, these now live in my backpack.
Tarot Cards
You never know when you will be called on to do a reading. I also bought down my Literary Tarot deck to get a bit more accustomed to them. They’re great, but I want to sit with them for a bit longer.
My Book
It’s my book for book group on Tuesday. It’s Maggie O’Farrell’s The Marriage Portrait. I’m about 100 pages into it – and need to have this read by Tuesday night. I should find some time to do this.
A Sarong
It’s the middle of freaking winter and you’re facing the Southern Ocean. What in the name of sweet baby Jesus do you need a bloody sarong for? Well, on Sunday Morning there is The Bathing of the Lunatics. A Gunna’s Retreat event. At 7.15 a.m. on the Sunday Morning, we brave idiots gather, go down to the beach, strip off and get into the water. You just have to get wet, then get out. The sarong makes a great towel. You want the towel in your room to be dry when you get back for a shower. I’ve learned this from previous retreats.
My Knitting
Walking into the kitchen on arrival here, Ash, our cook, his second question after, “How are you?” was, “Do you have my beanie?” I have his beanie, but it’s still on the needles, just started. I have bought my knitting with me for when I am not reading, writing, dancing, skinny dipping, chatting, sleeping, meditating or any of the other strange and amazing things I’ll get up to over the weekend.
Regardless of this laundry list of odd items, I am away from Melbourne, my cat is being well looked after, even if he doesn’t agree, and I am with my tribe, and for this I am truly grateful.
Our writing block is over. I am now going to sit out under the Milky Way and go put the world to rights.
I always forget, living in the city, how much I love the stars.
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