WHITE WATER HORROR!

Well here I am still gobsmacked after reading Lynne Cox's amazing story of how she swam through icy waters from Alaska across the Bering Straight to Russia. Not to mention swimming through snake and shark infested waters around the Cape of Good Hope!

A shiver goes up my spine when I think of that lot! I wonder how she did it, as I think about how limited I am in this sort of courage. I would not even swim in my own pool after dark, little own the deep, and dark ocean. I am so paranoid about anything that wriggles crawls or slithers around on the ground, and worse when I think about what could be lurking in and around in the open seas. 

I never used to be like this in my younger years. Being born and raised practically on the edge of the Swan River in Fremantle, Western Australia,

I learned to swim at a very early age when my father threw me in from the deep end of the jetty into the Swan, and told me to swim.....and I did.  Real fast!

I didn't think about sharks, and they would have been around back then!

I didn't worry about them when I,  along with my siblings and friends would swim out into the middle of the river to wave at tourists on board the local tourist ferry boat taking them on through the nearby heads at the Harbor's gateway to the wide open sea.  It was such fun, with never a thought about a blue, grey or a white fin coming at us!

 It was later in life when I moved to Sydney, and then up here to the Gold Coast that I became an absolute paranoid wimp!

And this is why I cannot believe that I was stupid enough to go

'White Water Rafting down the Tully!'

'Young People' having fun!????

                                                         

My friends Lorraine and Greg, along with Betty and Jock were holidaying in Cairns and I was to join them for a few days break.. When I arrived, Lorraine excitedly informed me that we were all booked for the next day to go 'white water rafting' down the Tully.

'White what?'  Down a Tully?' I asked

'Oh it's lovely! You just sit on a raft and we float down the Tully river,' she said.

'We float?' I asked, thinking oh that sounds nice. 'Er we float?' I checked.

'Yes! it's lovely, I went on one in Canada, and it was beautiful! very relaxing!'

I have to tell you that my dear friend Lorraine is the most optimistic, and positive person I know.
We've been friends for many years, and if she says it will be fine, it will be fine. Why only, a few years before, when we were driving our worn out hire car in London, and it began to cough and splutter, it sounded as though it was going to cark it right then and there in the middle of the heavy traffic.

 'Oh! It'll be alright! It probably just needs a clean!' Lorraine exclaimed!

Guess what?
 When we cleaned it, the damn car came to life, and it got up and went! 
'It was fine!'

So, when Lorraine told me about the 'floating on a raft down the Tully', I thought to myself:
 'Oh that sounds nice, I may take my book with me, or perhaps I'll have a snooze.'

*

the beautiful Tully

Next morning, very early we were all on board the 'White Water' Tourist Bus that was to take us to the top of the Tully, so we could get on to this raft that was going to 'float' us down the river.

We seemed to be chugging and climbing for a long time to get to the top of the Tully. I put my book away so I could see where we were going.  The crowded bus seemed to be straining, with gears crunching as it carried its load up this very steep hill.

The Tour Guide was standing hanging on to a strap as he was describing the surrounding country.
He bent down to look through the window, 'Yeah! there it is' he said pointing to a house standing on top of a hill. 'See that house right up there on top of that hill?'
 All eyes turned to follow his pointing finger.
'Well most people think that the crocs all stay down around the water......but, they don't you know?'

We were all bouncing along in our seats as we stared at this house standing on top of this high mountainous hill.

'Well', the guide continued, 'the people who live up there in that house went away for a couple of days, and when they came back, there was this huge big croc in their garage!'
As we still gasped and stared, he added 'Yep!' he walked right up that hill and got into the garage! 
They forgot to roll the door down!

'Excuse me?' I asked the guide. 'Where did the croc come from?'

'The river' he said.

'Oh?   There must be another river nearby'.....
*

Finally the bus stopped. We were told to remain seated until all 'gear' was unloaded. I sat there transfixed as I watched life jackets, helmets and oars

being dragged out from the storage area beneath our bus, and then carried by the guides and helpers down this mountainous slippery slope to the river.

By this time I was really wondering about the 'floating' part of this expedition.

 However, we were all told to follow the guides down the hill, and finally reached the water.
 A very fast moving water, which I later learned was actually referred to as, 'the calm'.

We were each handed a life jacket and safety helmet to put on and then one by one we were checked.
 We just have to make sure that we are all 'nice and secure'.

'Oh my god!
I thought, 'secure?' 

Their were four rafts. Each one would carry five plus the guide, who sat up
 on the back edge of the raft.

We each sat next to an oar and he quickly gave instructions on how to steer in unison,
 with the rest of the crew.

 About the action of steering, pulling and maneuvering the raft around.. It was like a hard and fast army drill. We began to move along and towards the centre of the fast moving 'calm'.  It was getting noisy with the sounds of water crashing down a fall from behind us.
The guide settling in to his position as he was giving us the drill.

He had to yell above the noise of the water.

'Okay! Everyone we have to be quick, but I have to tell you how to ride the white water of the Tully!'

He quickly gave instructions on how to steer in unison with the rest of the crew.
 And when I say 'HOLD ON', you hold on. If I say a BIG HOLD ON you have to crouch down low in the raft!
When all is clear I will yell 'BACK ON THE JOB!' Which ended up with the word 'job' being strung out to 'BACK ON THE JAARB' in typical American style boot camp expression!!!

He added, yelling 'Now, if you do happen to fall out, you will be fine. Someone will hand you an oar for you to hang onto so we can get you back into the raft.'

'Okay?  NOW!'   This first fall we are going down is called
 the 'Alarm clock'. So lets move!

'Excuse me' I yelled to the guide, 'I don't want to do this can you take me back to the bus?'

'The bus? he shouted 'The bus has gone!'
                                    
OH!  FUCK!
                                                
*

            

        Furiously I tried to manage the oars as instructed to do, well, twisted and pulled, whatever!

                 ''BIG HOLD ON!!..yelled the guide when all of a sudden we were spinning around, thumping and bumping, screaming and squealing, and then a fast flop, and we were into the calm again

  'BACK ON THE JARRB!!!'

he yelled again as we were skimming along at full speed toward the next white rapid.

The 'Waterfall Theatre' which was a long ride of terror!

The guide rode the raft over every foaming twisting and rock falls as though he were riding a bucking bronco or a raging bull at a rodeo!

'Oh my God!' I kept slipping from the side of the raft as I gulped white water as I struggled to grab hold of my oar, or something, anything! Please!

I can't tell you how relieved I was when we pulled over to the lunch area. We all got out of the raft, legs shaking but hearing the guide telling us how well we were doing!

'Excuse me? Is this the end? Er like we have lunch and then get on to the bus?'

'Hell no! We are only half way down the Tully!'

                                                              *

After we had eaten lunch it was time to get "Back on the 'job" and get on with the next horror stretch!

Somehow we managed to get through another hour or so, and the guide yelled over the noise.  'Well! we were going to end the ride here, but you have all done so well we have decided to go on for two more falls!

'The first one is coming up now, it is called 'The Shark Fin Fall', which means that the rock is shaped like a fin, and we have to row the raft and maneuver very carefully to get the centre raft over the fin which must be in the centre. 

The Alarm clock and Sharks Fin now called Sharks Tooth will always be in my memory!

Actual photo of us in the raft:  that's me in the second row facing camera

'I REPEAT! THE FIN MUST BE IN THE CENTRE.........OKAY! LET'S MOVE! MOVE!

We all frantically rowed, this way and that, I don't think any of us knew what we were doing, as we got closer to the fin, there it was! Coming at us!

 'IT WAS NOT IN THE CENTRE! .....WE AREN'T IN THE CENTRE!

                              SUDDENLY I WAS TIPPED OVERBOARD,

                      AND HURTLING DOWN THE TULLY FEET FIRST!

                                                              

In a split second I was hurtling down the foaming white rapids feet first!

I was whizzing down the Tully in a helpless break neck speed! I flashed past the other rafts! And my oar passed me!

Suddenly a huge rock loomed in front of me. I tried to grab hold of it, but instead I was sucked down underneath into a whirlpool of swirling waters, and was tossed around as though I were in a washing machine. I don't know how long I was in this treacherous spin before I tossed up to the surface, only to be pulled into, and carried onto the next so called fast moving 'calm'.

Finally a raft caught up with me and dragged me on board. 

Looking back now, I must have looked and acted like a hysterical maniac! Which I think I surely was!

The guide did his best to calm me down, but then had to inform me that we had one more fall to go. 

      

             'THIS ONE'S NOT SO BAD! IT"S EASY! JUST HANG ON!!

                                                                                                   

Finally, still in shock, but happy to be alive, we were on the bus and on the way back to Cairns. I was still sopping wet, and still shaking as I was dabbing my cuts and bruises collected on my trip down the Tully.

My friend Greg was also wet, sore and aching all over due to cuts and bruises that he collected when he went out of the other other side of the raft and fell on the 'rock fin'.

I think that White Water Rafting should be indulged in by only very experienced raft experts. 

 I believe there have been a few deaths which have occurred during this extreme sport.

Furthermore to my dear friend Lorraine:

                                                   

I would not call that experience a 'relaxing float down the river!!!'

Words by B Watson

Images via Cairns Info & Cairns Adventurer

Tales of a Long Distance Swimmer!

I have just been reading the autobiography
                                    
 'Swimming to Antarctica:  Tales of a Long Distance Swimmer',
the story of the American long distance swimmer, Lynne Cox, and I have to say that it is a real page turner!

Great picture of Lynne Cox from The New Yorker

 For me anyway....... I just could not put it down!

 Lynne Cox was the youngest woman to swim across the English Channel.

 I did not realise that they begin their swim in the black darkness of midnight!

 They would often swim into one of Englands' thick enveloping fogs making it impossible to even see their own hand held in front of them, nor can they see their support team close by.

Lynne with her team in the freezing cold waters

 Sometimes after becoming disoriented, especially if currents change direction suddenly, the swimmer can be pulled into a shipping lane and tossed into the wake of a moving vessel!

Can you imagine that??

           

This story is about one of her first long distance swims.                                   

As Lynne Cox moves on in her swimming career
 she pushes herself to the limit to succeed in her unbelievable goals.

 Her swim around the Cape of Good Hope where the waters are infested with poisonous snakes and all breeds of sharks, some of them reaching twenty eight feet in length, had me absolutely glued!

Cape of Good Hope

How scary would that be?........And there is so much more to this story which has left me gobsmacked!

                        This is such a great true story of courage and determination.

 I thoroughly recommend it!

via Amazon.com

image 1 via The New Yorker; image 2 via sugarchallenge.blogspot.com ; image 3 via capeoptions.com

ETERNITY!

                                          

When the new Millennium burst into life in the year 2000, it came to life midst an explosion of fireworks lighting up the magnificence of our fabulous Sydney harbour.

The harbour that boasts both our famous 'Arched' Harbour Bridge and of course our distinctly designed Opera House. 

                                                   Wow! What a sight!  I thought as I watched the display from the comfort of my armchair in front of my television in my home on the Gold Coast.

The colorful show went for half an hour or so, and then the fireworks dimmed a little to allow the word  'Eternity'  to gradually loom forward as it glowed through the residue of the firework's drifting smoke.

 The huge letters written in yellow lights were strung across the centre of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

 All was quiet and still, thousands of people gasped at this huge and brightly lit word.... 

'ETERNITY'...

beaming high up into the smokey sky bursting to it's full capacity

 to light our way into the

 New Millennium, the year 2000! 

  

                                       

      ' Eternity ' 

   
Arthur Stace wrote the word Eternity 500,000 times in and around Sydney and it's surrounding suburbs. For around thirty years. Each day at four thirty am he would rise from his bed, eat a meagre breakfast, pray to his God for guidence and the whereabouts for him to write his precious word

ETERNITY

  He wrote it mainly on footpaths, walls, or anywhere his yellow chalk would adhere.  

ETERNITY would appear mysteriously and unexpected anywhere, in any suburb throughout Sydney, and beyond

.
Nobody seemed to mind as they stared at this word ETERNITY.  It was not looked upon as vandalism, after all it was a beautiful word and meaning.

              Arthur Stace was born of two alcholic parents. He had little or no schooling. He could not read or write, but after hearing the evangelist John Ridley preach on the meaning of ETERNITY

 he became so engrossed and moved by the sermon that he decided to write this precious word where ever he could.

 First he had to learn how to write ETERNITY, and his first few attempts were almost unreadable, but after many years of repeated practise his ETERNITY resulted in almost fluid perfection. But, even with this achievment, he could barely write his own name.

 ETERNITY was all he needed, and all he wanted.

In 1967, at the age of 82, Arthur Stace died in a Sydney nursing home.  He had written his beloved word 500.000 times.

They called him Mr ETERNITY.

                        

   In 1977 a brass inscription was unveiled in a paving stone near the Sydney Square Waterfall. In the familiar copperplate it reads. 
                                       
                      
                                             ETERNITY.

                                                
                           HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE!   
                              

NEW YORK! NEW YORK!

My first visit to New York in 1985 was for both business and pleasure. The business side of the trip was for my Interior Design business. I wanted to catch up on all that was available, and happening in this field for my work.  I  always thought that there could be more to learn and more to see in America.

        Apart from this I had wanted to see this big and exciting city...

'The Big Apple'......

I loved most movies and novels set in New York. Every time I heard Sinatra sing ...'
Start spreading the News...I'm leaving today! 
I just wanted to pack a bag and go too!

        Also my interest in art drew me towards New York......

The Museum of Modern Art, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and of course not forgetting the famous Guggenheim, the fabulous building designed by world famous architect Frank Lloyd Wright.
The building itself is indeed a work of art.

                             

I had been a collector of Australian contemporary art for some time, and I was very interested to actually see American contemporary artists work in reality.

I was very keen to see Jackson Pollock's works. I loved his 'Blue Poles' painting in our National Gallery in Canberra. Plus, I was keen to see the collection of works held at M.O.M.A. not to mention other smaller galleries..... I just wanted to see it all!

                                    

                                                          

       I arrived at Kennedy Airport after about one and a half hours spent in 'stacking' mode, waiting to land..... a'la..shades of  'Out of Towners' with Jack Lemmon.

We had been advised of procedure regarding our luggage, and the availability of transport for our destination. We were also advised of expected cost for cab fare into the city would be between twenty and twenty five dollars.

     After collecting my luggage, and wheeling it around the extremely crowded departure lounge searching for the taxi rank...I was loudly ordered to join the long cue and ,,,,,
'STAND THERE ! and WAIT !

I watched a very noisy and chaotic, but well organised  team of very big tough looking women shouting and blowing whistles, as they waved the cabs to speed up to them, and screeching to a halt at their signal to STOP! Then one by one, a 'cue stander'  would be grabbed out of the cue, and dragged, running to the cab as they yelled

 'COME ON! .....MOOOVE!!.....MOOOVE!!.......scary stuff!....

When it came to my turn, I was also grabbed and hurled along ..with a loud... 'MOOOVE!' blasting in my ears and pushed into the back of the cab, followed by my luggage thrown in on top of me. I yelled in pain as a corner of one of my bags struck my leg!... 'Oh! for God's sake!' I screeched! Look at my leg! it's bleeding!..........She just slammed the door in my face!......blew her whistle, then signaled  the driver to........'MOOOVE!!......On!!!!

                     This was getting scarier?.....

 The yellow cab was old, it rattled and didn't smell too clean, in fact it was a smelly old rattler, driven by another big burly tough looking woman!

       It seemed to be taking a long time to get into the city, and then I realized why. We were going around in circles, I was certain I was seeing the same streets more than once. I had given this surly driver the address of my accommodation. The Pickwick Arms Hotel..... 230 E. 51st . which was somewhere between 2nd and 3rd Ave.

I was a bit too nervous to say anything to this big butch driver, so we went around a couple more times and finally came to stop in front of my hotel. I asked her how much I owed for my fare...'Forty five dollars!'....she has overcharged me I thought  as I fumbled around trying to gather the American dollars, From the back seat of the old cab I handed her the exact amount of dollars.......' What? No TIP?'......

THAT WAS IT FOR ME!.... I was ready to hit her with some good old Aussie gusto abuse!....
'Listen here! When I was pushed by one of you lot, into this old banger of a cab, my luggage was thrown in on top of me! I now have one of my bags with its' handle broken off, not to mention a cut on my leg, you've doubled my fare because you have been driving around in circles, my leg is still bleeding and you want a tip??.

                                         'You have got to be kidding! I shrieked!

With that she got out of the cab, slammed the door, pulled out my luggage and me and pushed us all  on to the footpath... side walk whatever!...and it was now raining!...

Gob smacked! I watched  as she cursed and jumped into her heap on wheels and took off!

After I had gathered myself and my luggage together I stared at my next problem......

Oh! My God! ..........Revolving Doors !

The only way in to my hotel was through revolving doors?                                                                      

 How was I going to get my luggage through  these bloody revolving doors!

I thought of my fathers' saying at times like this..... I could hear his voice loud and clear as if he were standing next to me:

              'Well..... you don't have to be dead to be stiff..Do You!
                                                       

My first night in New York was a disaster I thought as I was trying to gather and maneuver my luggage, which was almost impossible without a handle on one of the bags!

Somehow, I managed to get them all set to push them one at a time into the swirling glass doors.
Each time I was ready to push, someone would want to exit.
The bags became jammed stopping the whole procedure.
 People were impatient to get inside, out of the rain......and I just I wanted to disappear out of sight!
  I felt like I was in an 'I Love Lucy' episode.

Finally the manager came to the rescue,  cursing and grunting as he pushed, shoved, and squeezed the bags out and into the foyer.

By this time it was around midnight, and all I wanted to do was to get into my room,
 and collapse in a heap!
                                                                                                               

When I tried to open the door to my room, it seemed to be stuck.  I pushed it until it half opened enough for me to squeeze myself into see the tiniest room I have ever seen.
It was so small that my luggage completely covered the floor, leaving no room for me to stand, or even walk to the small bed! I had to walk on top of and over the bags in order to get to it!

                 I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  So I did both!

  Finally I staggered over my luggage and managed to squeeze myself out of the room again.
 I headed for reception to demand that I be moved into another room, a 'normal' size one!...one that allows room for one to stand and walk in!

         The manager looked up from his desk...'Yeah?...can I help you?'

'Yeah! you sure can! I whipped back at him...'I would like to have another room!........something bigger!......Please!

                'Ms Watson you booked for a single room! he barked.

Yes! I snapped, a single ROOM not a bloody CLOSET!
I booked for a single room, with my own shower and toilet.....I didn't see them in that ridiculous room....or are they hidden under that stupid bed!

We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then he checked in his reservation list, and said
 Okay... we do have another room with shower and toilet, but it will cost more..... okay? .......
'Yes that is fine! I'll take it!

        My luggage and I were moved up on to the next floor to another room...which was larger, but very small by our standards. This one had two single beds, pushed close together, at least I could put my bags on one of them, which would allow floor space to stand on,  and even walk a few steps to my 'ensuite'!

My en suite? ...well it was 'different'....the toilet was just inside the door, I should say inside the doorway, leading off the tiny bedroom.  But there was no door and it was so close to the shower I had to climb over the toilet to be able to get into the shower!

The toilet? Well that was another story.
 When I sat down on the seat...my knees and head were back inside the bedroom!

I am really very tired, I thought!

                                                                  

          When I awoke the following morning, I was still fully dressed, and lying stiffly on the edge of the narrow bed. I had gone to sleep all ready to charge out in to the Big Apple and look for another hotel.  I thought of the famous Waldorf Astoria Hotel,  and the'Plaza' on Central Park!

I said 'I thought ' about them!...and while I was 'thinking' about them, my eyes were moving slowly around my room.  The ceiling and walls were white....a very bright white! A clean white! Well at least that is a start I thought as my eyes circled the whole room (took but a minute or two), but I could see that it was a very small white room.......small but clean.

        I am always 'sus' about hotel beds.

That is why I had slept fully clothed and on the edge of this bed.  It was so late last night, and the lighting not too bright, I wasn't able to inspect the bedding.

This paranoia began when a friend of mine Carl who managed a hotel back home on the Gold Coast, told me the story about how a man had died in his hotel room.
 And due to the lift being so small the poor man could not be carried out on a stretcher.
So Carl and a member of his staff had no other choice but to dress the man in a coat and hat before dragging him into the lift, where they propped him up against the wall  between them.
They all stood tall as the lift made an express ride to the basement where an ambulance awaited!

        With this in mind, together with my acute fear of bedbugs, I checked out 'this bed'.
 It did look clean with crisp white sheets, so this was a huge relief!

I checked out the rest of the room and it was very white!

I looked at my luggage sitting on the other bed.  Oh my God! Could I even be bothered trying to drag them downstairs and through those bloody swinging doors?....... I needed a coffee!

I went downstairs and was faced with a sign propped up against the wall behind the desk:
         

                                                  NO COFFEE

                                                  NO TEA

                                                  NO RESTAURANT

                                                  NO HEATERS

                                                  NO FANS

                                                  NO HAIR DRYERS.............

                                                  SO  DON'T  ASK!

                                                          

                                                                                                                    

            

             After I had found a diner nearby and had coffee and bagels I was feeling a little better.
  I am in New York! This thought made me feel excited again.

             It was then that I decided to have another look at my room that had been recomended to me. I was told that it was very central, clean and quaint.
But the words weird and quirky were never mentioned.

And keep in mind, this was before weird and quirky was seen as cool or desirable.
However, it was very white and looked very clean. And it was in a  central location.
  I just hoped that the bed  had no weird 'history'.

Don't think about it! I told myself!

****************
                                                  

   I found that once I had unpacked a few clothes and placed my cosmetics, perfume etc on the little shelf in the 'ensuite' (that somehow escaped the blast of water from the shower),
the room didn't look so bad.  And I was going to be out most of the time discovering this wonderful city.

I thought 'what the heck' this is it!

                                                 

After I had reorganized my room, and mopped up all of the water that had blasted over every surface of the ensuite  during  my first shower. I was wondering if I could cope with this added dilemma when there was a knock at the door.
Ah! the cleaner. This lady turned out to be very friendly and sympathized with the water problem going all over the place.
 She told me not to worry as she would leave me a few extra towels to spread over the toilet and floor whilst I showered.
******************

                                                     

My first day was spent doing the Guided Circle Island trip and having various land marks pointed out to a boat load of passengers, followed by trying to find my way around the city.

Even though I had researched as much as I could about Manhattan Island, it is one thing to look at and read maps showing the layout of the grid system of the city, that was fine.
 But it is another to actually be smack bang right in the middle of the concrete jungle of the tallest buildings I had ever seen!

            After walking for what seemed like miles around the city, and feeling weary,
 I decided to have an early dinner and then head back to my hotel.
I had appointments at  a couple of Design Centres for the next day, so an early sleep was needed.

After showering and dutifully mopping up the so called ensuite, I was ready for bed.
I was so exhausted I fell into a deep sleep, only to be awakened later by the most incredibly loud and  raspy gravelly voice I have ever heard.

 'SHUT UP! SHUT UP! ...SHUT THE f### UP!.....ALL YOU DO.. IS TALK! TALK! TALK!!!

            Before I was fully awake I was standing. My legs jammed in between the beds!
'What! What I screamed! I thought that the voice was in my room!

I managed to switch on the tiny bedside lamp. I looked around.  No one there!  But the voice was still screeching out the same obscenities over and over!

The voice was so raspy and gruff I could not tell if it belonged to a male or female, but after a while I realised that it was coming from the room next to mine!

          The voice went on for an hour or so and then finally all was quiet . I checked the locks on my door again, and then I too settled down with eyes and ears wide open for the rest of the night.

When the cleaning lady came early in the morning I told her of what had happened,
she quickly said 'Oh! No!....Look don't worry . I will speak to the manager about it
...stay here until I come back okay?'

            After a few minutes she returned and said 'Don't worry! the manager said he will attend to this, and to tell you that this will not happen again'.

Wondering what in the hell was going on, I hesitatingly agreed to give this place another go!

            After another day spent keeping appointments, walking, talking and looking in wonder at what this city was all about, I returned to my hotel.

As I was about to enter my room, I noticed something different about the door to my next door noisy neighbour's room. On further inspection I saw that there was news paper jammed and protruding from  the surrounding frame of the door and floor.
 It looked as though the paper was filling all gaps to enclose anything from seeping in or out of the room!
 My first thought was  'Oh my god!... They have gassed 'the voice' ?!
.....it was so quiet! What is going on?

I quickly went down to reception and reported what I had seen.

'Oh yeah!... Mam! That's okay...she is a permanent resident in our Hotel.

She's been with us for years, she is er...harmless...she just goes off a little whacko every so often... know what I mean?..,...Sorry you had to hear all that  noise. We put the paper all around the door like that to make the room sound proof...you shouldn't hear anything any more... we don't usually book your room out because of this.....We only use it when we are booked out!

"OH! I said...............what more could I say?

     I went back to my room, locked the three locks to my door, checked outside my window to make sure there was no ledge the 'voice' could crawl on towards my room?   I had a shower, mopped up the floors and went to bed.  With the little lamp light switched on for the entire night!

                                                               

So after that, all was quiet, and the days went by as I learned and loved more about the city.
 I found most people friendly. Not only in the Design agencies, and Art Galleries but also I found the staff  in stores such as Bergdorf Goodmans, and Bloomingdales stores very friendly.
 They were fascinated with my Aussie accent, and wanted to know all about my country.

          I loved the galleries, and I discovered a few new artists.. One being Susan Rothenburg. I was very taken with one of her works at  M.O.M.A. of a horse in flight,  as though it was coming at me out of the canvas. Very dramatic to me, and I loved her application of paint and brushwork. I did set about extensive research to find out about her, plus Galleries who represented her work, (which sold for many thousands of dollars!)

Paintings by Susan Rothenberg

Another artist I was very fascinated with was Keith Haring, the Graffiti artist. What an interesting story tags his life and career, of which I will write about in my next blog.
( I will wet your appetite with a photo of his 'Barking Dog' work, that has been featured on walls of the New York subways, where electric trains roar beneath The Big Apple!

Painting by Keith Haring

********************

                                                    

 I became used to the heavy traffic, the constant sounds of horns blowing, and the screaming sirens of N.Y.P.D. cars speeding in and out of the forever choked traffic. Yellow cabs racing everywhere picking up and dropping off their passengers. I loved the action, but, each night when I returned to my funny and quirky hotel I felt secure in the smallness of my room.

    It was a Friday evening, I was tired, and I had just spoken to my daughter back home. I mentioned that I was not going out, as I was too tired. 'What?..on a Friday night?...You are in New York and you are not going out?... are you crazy?  Janelle exclaimed!

When I was off the phone, I thought ...'This is crazy! I should go somewhere.

I had always wondered about 'SARDI's restaurant, and what it would be like. It was down town on Broadway...so I decided to make the effort and go!

   It was still light outside so I decided to walk, but after awhile it began to rain, so I hailed a cab....'Sardi's Restaurant please driver!

 A few minutes later we were driving into the Time Square area....the streets and the Park were crowded...

The cab driver turned to me and in his fast and clipped New York accent said......


'You know Mam, you are very stoopid to be walkin' around this city on your own.'...he pointed over to the park and said 'Look over there Mam, there's a mugging goin' on there right now!.. as we look!...and sure enough I watched as a couple of guys were struggling and punching at each other....'See that? he added....it's going on all around us, and here you are a woman, walkin' around on your own!... you're just askin' for trouble!...you have to be very careful around here! ....

         As I paid him for my fare, I nervously laughed and said that I would indeed be careful!.....
'I hope so Mam...I mean it!...You know...they usually pick on someone alone, 
or the weak or the blind .....

          So Mam.....remember  if you break a leg..... DON'T LIMP!

Yellow Taxi by Bette Watson

                           

                        

 Well I did enjoy Sardis, the place was packed of course, and among the crowded room sitting at a table nearby was my favorite actor, none other than Dustin Hoffman!  My waiter told me that he was appearing in the play..'Death of a Salesman' which was showing at the theatre right opposite the Reaturant. 'Dustin eats here most nights' he added.

Sardi's in Broadway

 I had been chatting to a couple at the next table, and we were all excited about seeing Dustin...and decided that as we were leaving the restaurant we would try and get a closer look.
 But, as we neared the exit,  we were all leaning towards the area of Dustin's table and, trying to catch a glimpse of him when  an arm reached out and directed us on our way out.
The arm belonged to Dustin's very tall, muscular, and cartoonishly hansome male body guard.

The Bodyguard by Bette Watson

When we were ushered outside the reasturant, there were cops running everywhere around us!  Whistles were blowing, and battens flying as they ran from one area to another, and then to an ambulance waiting to load the wounded.

We were told to stay in the cue for a cab...
     and 'DON'T MOOVE!' ...

        There had been two muggings in lane beside Sardis!

OH HOW I DO LOVE NEW YORK!

LONDON TO HAWAII ON 30p

Marks and Spencer did refund to me some cash for my returns, even though they were wet. I think the manager was very pleased to get me away from the other customers, and out of the store.

I was so wet from the rain, and drained from the whole experience of being mugged again in London, leaving me penniless, and after the desperate bid for a refund for my purchases so that I could have some cash in hand, I was exhausted....

 I thought to hell with it, I will catch a cab, or a 'taxi' back to our accommodation. Good thing that I did so, and that I had my address written down, because with my state of mind I couldn't even remember where I was staying!

         Lorraine and Audrey couldn't believe that I had been mugged again, and did sympathise about what had happened to me, in between fits of laughter!

After a while, and a couple of wines I began to see the funny side too, and we all decided for my last night in London we should go out and celebrate, and as my cash flow was 'low' they shouted my way into a noisy crowded club not far from where we were staying, and we all ended up having a good night.

         Next morning I managed to drag myself out of bed to shower (in the very basic, and I mean 'basic' bathroom that Lorraine and I had scrubbed from top to bottom before our use),... and then dressed ready to travel to Hawaii !..and  I couldn't wait to get there!......

On the way to Heathrow, the taxi driver informed me that there were problems at the airport... like a fire?.... And that parts of the airport had been cordoned off, which meant that he had to drive to a special section to let me off....which also meant that I wouldn't have a clue as to where I would be!  Apart from this there was talk of an air traffic controller's strike which could delay all flights!.........Lovely!

 'Have a good flight Madam' the cabby said as he jumped back into his taxi and took off.  I then had to drag my luggage through the very hectic and noisy crowd, who were all trying to find out about their flight schedules, and if their flights were leaving or not, due to the strike pending.

I seemed to be running in circles trying to find my flight departure desk. The announcements were coming  over the speakers every few seconds so thick and fast it was as if they were all jumbled up together, making it hard to understand what they were saying.

Finally, I stumbled on to my flight desk, and I was told that was my flight departure was still valid, but my luggage was over weight, and that I had excess baggage fee to pay! Oh my God I was just about ruining on empty here as it was with my cash flow, and I still had to pay for the VAT!!

At last I was in the departure lounge, and managed to find a seat to flop into. I sorted my hand luggage, and then rummaged around in my bag to find what little money I had left. The costs for leaving the country were higher than I had expected, as after paying my share of the rent for our flat etc...and  taxi fare to the airport, along with VAT and excess luggage I knew that I was travelling close to the wind...But, not as close as I soon discovered.....all I could find was 30p!,,,This can't be right! I flew my hand all around into every nook and cranny of my bag......NOTHING!....ALL I HAD WAS 30P!

This was equivalent to  about 50 Australian cents!  And, I was flying from London to Hawaii.....OH MY GOD! .....With only 30P!! Hopefully when we stopped at San Francisco our connecting flight to Honolulu would be there waiting, and we did not have long to sit around.

Suddenly my head was spinning and began to pain, as I cursed the robbers again for taking my wallet that had held some American dollars to see me through until I could get to the Bank on arrival in Honolulu. I now had a very bad headache.

I searched through my bag for some aspirin...nothing!

'What can I do? ' I thought......'absolutely bloody nothing ! I answered myself...so all I can do is to try and calm down, and just 'bite the bullet' get on that plane and GO!

.......But...OH! M' GOD!....I ONLY HAVE 30P!!

The plane was crowded, and after squeezing my way to my allotted seat and shoved my hand luggage up in the holding locker above, I flopped into my seat. Luckily I was in the two seat to a row side of the aircraft. Not much room but at least I had a seat, and I was on my way out of London.

My head was still pounding with the shock and pain of my situation, and I must have looked stressed because the hostess stopped at my seat and asked me if I was okay and did I need anything. I asked for some aspirin if possible, and after a couple of minutes she handed me a glass of much needed water and tablets.  'How much do I owe you for these? I asked anxiously.....'Oh! Nothing! They're on the house..or should I say Pan Am!'.....'Oh! Thank God for that!....
'Oh! I mean...thank you so much!' I sighed.

I settled down into a painful doze, and after a while my co - passenger sitting in the seat next to me tapped me on my shoulder..'Excuse me, but would you care for a drink? ..a Brandy? or glass of wine?' ...

Oh yes! I thought, I could do with a brandy right mow!...But, hey! Isn't it a bit early to be drinking?...It was still quite early in the day...and besides I can't afford to do this..I turned to look at this ....er...(really rather attractive man) ....I wouldn't be able to buy a drink for him in return.

'Thank you for asking me' I uttered...but I have a bit of a headache'... which was beginning to tone down a bit... ..well quite a lot now!

'Perhaps later when they serve our lunch you may feel like joining me in a glass of wine?'

He was American, and he sounded very nice.

'Perhaps' I answered, as I lent back in my seat and closed my eyes to relax my aching head.

                                                *

Lunch was being served, and my companion introduced himself as Alan. 'They call me Al....so what's your name?'  he asked as he took my hand. 'Bette.' I replied.

Our lunch was served, along with some very nice wine ordered by Al.

We were chatting as you do, when you first meet someone, telling a little of yourself, where you have been in your travels and where your homeland is. It turned out that Al was an American 'Church of England' Priest, who was based in England. 'You are a priest?' I exclaimed!...'But you don't look like a priest!.... I said.  ' Priests wear.... a collar?...or a robe or whatever?' I uttered feeling a little stupid for not knowing and also a little disappointed.

' I am on my vacation, and I'm on my way home to San Francisco to visit my folks....my Mom and Dad'  he added.

He was very friendly and very nice, but I did notice that he was drinking quite a lot! I am a one glass wonder especially for lunch, but Al was really getting into it. He would press the buzzer for service for more drinks, but if the hostess did not come straight away he would reach down to his bag at his feet, and pull out a bottle of brandy and refill his glass.

Now, this man.... is a bit of a 'drinker'!  I thought to myself.

Does this American Priest, or Father Al, or whatever, have a 'bit' of a drinking problem I wondered? What a shame, as he looked so nice in his stylishly worn in blue denim jeans, black t shirt and jacket..... ...with no collar!

Anyhow, he was actually quite an amusing character, and we laughed a lot.  He was telling me about his parents who would be at the airport to meet him.

'They're kinda very reserved' he slurred, 'but since they got divorced they are much better...' he went on....'You know what?... they live a couple of blocks apart from each other, but they see more of each other now, than they did when they were married and lived together!...In fact!' he hiccuped...'I think they're having an affair now!' he winked, 'and I think this is great!'

This sounded quite romantic to me, I thought wistfully.....but then when I remembered my two ex-husbands and me doing this with either one........I quickly changed my mind!.. The idea lost me completely!

 I digress...back to Al.  He was starting to look quite 'under the weather', and I was thinking of his parents waiting at the airport for him.  He can't arrive looking like this I thought, so I ordered some black coffee for him to drink, and  after a few cups he started to look much better.

 By the time we arrived in San Fran. he was sober...I think.

As we were entering the arrivals lounge Al said to me 'there they are..over there he said pointing to an elderly couple.  His  mother was sort of delicately waving with a 'Queen' like wave of her hand towards Al. ( She did look 'kinda reserved') as Al had mentioned...

'I am so pleased I plied you with all of that coffee' I whispered.'...'Sure! so am I! he said as he took my arm and led me towards them saying 'come on I want to introduce you to my folks'

We chatted for a few minutes, and I could see that they were so proud and happy to see their son again. After saying our goodbyes, we parted, and I set about to find out the departure time for my connecting flight to Honolulu.

There seemed to be a very noisy panic going on inside the airport, and I was staring up at the flight schedule board trying to figure out times of departure for... where ever... I couldn't understand what I was trying to read.

  

'Which flight are you looking for?'..yelled a voice from my side.

 'Honolulu' I yelled back over the noise to the voice of a man dressed in uniform standing at my side.

 'Well, you have a long wait for that flight, because the air traffic control strike has rolled right on out here from the U.K. ...which means Ma'am, you have at least a six hour wait for your flight to Honolulu!'

'Six Hours!' I gasped.  'You mean I have at least six hours?'

'Say! Are you English?' he asked....'No, I am Australian' I replied gloomily.

 'Ah well I am sorry about the delay M'am'.....and then he smiled 'Say! I'll bet you would love a 'cup of tea!'

Oh would I ever!... I thought to myself.....but I won't even be able to buy a cup of tea!......What can anyone buy here to eat for 30P?

'Oh no thank you, I'm fine' I uttered.

'Are you sure?... because I could get you one..I work here at the airport and my job is to help any passenger who looks as though they need it......and you sure look as though you could do with a nice cup of tea.'

Well I sure as hell did feel like a cup of tea, I thought.....'Well that would  really be lovely' I said gratefully.

'Come with me...by the way, my name is Tex....Tex Marshall.....and you are?'

'Bette'...Bette Watson' I replied.

A few minutes later I found myself in a V.I.P. lounge room, which was beautifully furnished and laid out with lounge chairs, couches, very upmarket style all the way. I noticed a couple of people resting, one on a couch, and the other lying back in what looked like a very comfortable arm chair.

An air hostess greeted us, and Tex said 'Jenny, this is Bette Watson, and she has a 6 hour wait or her connecting flight to Honolulu, and she would just 'love' a cup of tea, and Jen, how about a nice sandwich and cake?  Just make a plate up, and I will join Bette... I need a break now anyway, it's hell downstairs!

I couldn't believe what was happening to me.  This was so nice to be away from the crowds and in this lovely peaceful lounge.

After we had eaten Tex called Jenny over and asked her to get a pillow and a blanket for me so that I could have a 'nap' for a while. He had to get back to work and said that he would let me know if there was any change in my flight details.

I wondered what Tex would think if he knew that I had only 30 P in my purse!

As I was dozing off to sleep, I was wondering about Tex...Tex Marshall...... Where had I heard that name before?  If and when you are in trouble...don't you holla' for a Marshall?...a Tex Marshall?

 And he was quite cute too!.. I thought as I dozed off into a deep sleep.

A couple of hours later the hostess Jenny, woke me to ask if I would like to freshen up, as Tex would be here at around six pm for cocktails before my flight was to leave.

Am I in a dream? I wondered.......this is so friendly and very stylish! I thought........if my friends could see me now,  that little gang of mine!

Tex arrived, and cocktails and nibbles were served.......beautiful! ....And then it was time for me to leave. ...Do I have to?.......Do I want to?

Tex was such a very nice man, and very helpful. We exchanged business cards and he said that he would love to come to Australia some day, and if he did he would look me up.

When he took me down to the departure lounge for my flight, he introduced me to the crew and asked them to 'take care' of me and upgrade my seat.

We said goodbye, and I was shown to my seat...First Class!

I had been travelling economy!..So this was really special to me!

What a great flight we had.  I had been served a beautiful meal with champagne and everything was really lovely. I had another little sleep, and when I woke we were told that we would be arriving in Honolulu at around one am.

One o'clock in the morning I thought in panic!  There would not be any free transport I am sure at that time of the night or morning.  I asked the hostess if there would be any hotel transfer bus at our time of arrival.

'I don't think so, but there will be cabs. A cab would take you to where ever you have to go!

Yes they would.  I thought, but they will want to be paid and NOT with 30P!

I thought about the American dollars that were in my wallet that those muggers took from me...if only I had those 'dollars' now!

For the rest of my flight I was becoming resigned to the fact that I would have to sleep at the airport, on top of my luggage! Or in a ladies room! Oh god no!

When we arrived at the airport, it was indeed very late and it all looked deserted.  A bit scary if I have to sleep around here I thought.

Oh well, I may as well go and collect my luggage.  I was standing at the carousel waiting for the luggage to spin out on to the turntable, when I saw two men walking straight towards me.

'Are you Bette Watson?'

'Yes....Yes I am?'

'My name is Mike,' said one, and he then pointed to the other man.. 'And this is Steve.

Tex contacted us and asked if we could pick you up on your arrival here and take you to your hotel, okay?'

'Oh!' I was dumbfounded to say the least....'Oh how nice of you to do this, and how lovely of Tex to think of this for me!.....And it is so late for both of you to do this.'

They picked up my luggage between them and carried them out to their car, and loaded my bags into the boot, and we were on our way within minutes.

My hotel was in Lewers Street, which is right in the middle of Waikiki Honolulu. Steve and Mike carried my bags into the reception area in the hotel. They waited until I had checked in, and when I was given my room number they carried my luggage upstairs and into my room.

I thanked them for their help. 'Well it was nice to meet you Bette.  We will let Tex know that you have arrived safe and sound, okay? Here's our card, if you need anything just give us a call. Okay? Please enjoy your stay on our beautiful island. Aloha!'

When they had gone,  I opened my bag and emptied the coins on to the bed.......and.....................

there before me was.....30P!

                                                 

I had travelled first class all the way from London to Hawaii with only 30P!

                                                
                                            


                                                                 








.