We transferred to Mudgee yesterday. A very historic (by Australian standards) town with many of the things I care about most, conveniently located nearby. There’s wine and let’s face it, that would be more than enough but there’s also a gold mining past and three very large coal mines currently operating just down the road from the town. I guess that explains why the pubs were so well supported last night – Monday night. And the pub we were in had signage on the ceiling. That means that when you regain consciousness, you have something to read.
We did a wine tour today, starting at 10.00am. As I’ve previously noted, early starts to these bacchanalian outings are not advisable unless you intend to write-off most of the afternoon. The child bride has just washed her hair after our wine tour and I suspect used it as an excuse to stand under a cold shower to sober up. Country cellar doors are much more generous with their wine samples than the larger more commercial outfits so we came prepared with the wobbly boots on this morning. After all of that wine I could do with a cold beer.
In the Hunter our accommodation contained a king-sized bed. Neither the CB nor I are particularly large and she is, in fact, quite diminutive. So in a king we each occupy a corner and communicate via smoke signals. Here in Mudgee we are staying in a historic building (previously a coach house) so the rooms are quite small and the sleeping arrangements are adjusted down accordingly, so we now have a double bed. I’m a roller so I start on my right side then roll onto my back then on to my left side, then back again. Rinse and repeat. All night. So in a double bed, that means a constant tangle of arms and legs. I’m sure the CB feels like she’s sleeping with a football team. We won’t pursue that line of thought any further other than to say if we’d have been any closer we’d have been waking the neighbours.
And now something completely different. A pulled or torn calf muscle is considered an old man’s injury. When men of a certain age try to demonstrate that they still possess the athletic prowess of their youth, the first part of the anatomy to yield is the calf. I did mine yesterday morning. I wasn’t jogging or throwing myself round gym equipment. I did it during an over vigorous stretch in bed before departing our cosy sleeping arrangements. Pathetic, right. So I’ve been limping everywhere and copious amounts of wine don’t appear to be efficacious in this regard. I guess I’ll have to apply the one cure that always works in these circumstances – time.