as pure as driven snow

We get up early and travel up to Perth to visit dads mate eric.

Eric emigrated about 40 years previously and has lived happily ever after in oz ever since. Dad served his mechanical apprenticeship with him and plans to stay with him from now until we return home at the end of the week.

Im a bit nervous, I dont know why as I dont really have anything to feel nervous about but I dont want to say anything stupid that might embarrass the old fella.

Anyways, we get there, I take a deep breath and go and meet Eric who is fantastic. He has a great outlook on life and has a simple philosophy of life is too short not to be enjoyed of which I an associate quite easily. I feel at home with Eric, like a long lost friend or brother, or like I felt at home back in the surf shack down in margaret river country.

He talks about old times back home and his life in Oz and he gives me a sentimental gift from his old life in scotland. He is a remarkable man based on my short visit with him and he seems like a good grandad to is millions of offspring.

He tells me a great story about living in a caravan, fighting snakes with hairspray and his neighbour who liked to scoosh water from his garden hose making the tiger snakes just in the air. Snakes that can Jump sound scary.

I take my leave and travel up to lancelin for a day I hope to be filled with adrenalin and I have a basic plan as follows. Go on yellow bus monster truck called desert storm. Go on a dune buggy adventure. Hire a quad and go dune boarding.

On the way there I stop in the middle of the forest road to have a pee. I am midstream and remember about the scary jumping snakes. Map of china springs to mind.

The road is poker straight and disappears at a point somewhere far in the distance, massive tress line each side and the stones are blasting on the radio giving me jumping jack flash, the sky is the brightest blue without a cloud in the sky and the sun is literally beating down. I think that life doesnt get much better than this and I discover that the Holden Ballerina does not do the 175km specified in the literature and also becomes unstable above 140km. I may write to holden and tell them how bad this car is.

I slow down again to enjoy the scenery and as im acclimatising to all things australian I dont want to chance my luck on the upcoming corner and become another auzzie statistic.

I get there and its like sleepy hollow the only two things that are missing are people and banjo music. I pop into the local shop aptly called the "have a chat" grocery store and ask what I can do now that I am in lancelin.

Q; Can I go on the big bus monster truck ?
A: No mate, turned over two weeks ago , didn?t it.

Q: Eh ok, anywhere I can go on the dune buggies ?
A: No mate, only run weekends.

Q: Right, Anywhere I can hire a quad ?
A: No mate, that closed down cos of insurance

Q: Motorbike /scrambler ?
A: No mate, same fella that had the quads

Q: So nothing in town with an engine then ?
A: Yep, you got it mate.

Q: Eh ok right, thanks, so what can I do ?
A: You can surf the dunes and stay dry or you can surf the waves and get wet.

I pick the dunes and hire a snow board meant for sand. I get to the dunes and its as white as snow stretching for miles, except warmer. I imagine this is what it would be like in a desert, its so bright and clear here I can even see the moon. There is some young kids people playing on scramblers and there is me with a plank of wood stuck to my feet. Magic

As this activity requires some level of balance and co-ordination I fail in an epic fashion and spend most of the allotted hire time removing sand from intimate parts of my anotomy and or most of my bodies major orifices.

I decide from this moment on that if you cant race it or ride it, it aint worth doing.

I stop at a service station on the way down the road and notice hot can of soup which has a ring pull like a coke can would, but heats itself when you crack it open which I think is jolly clever, havent seen them back home.

Get back to perth around about dusk and get stuck on the freeway rush hour traffic back to mandurah, im watching the sun go down over the swan river and I think for the second time today that I will miss this style of laid back living.

I get into mandurah and eat but just as Im leaving I see chunk from the goonies. A little older perhaps but Im sure its him or if not they have been seperated at birth. He dissapears into the gents and I have to make a snap descision whether to run in and snap a quick shot or stalk him coming out to take todays picture.

Its cold outside and Im refusing to wear anything but a t-shirt so I bail as he is taking ages. Perhaps he is chatting to Bruce.

It his therefore his fault that todays snap shot is the dunes and lancelin. Sorry.