Day 284 - Windy Harbour. On the left is the pub at Beverely is an example of 1930's Art Deco, a really good example of an Art Deco pub in Sydney is the Kirribilli Hotel. I went to Donnybrook and played golf, very enjoyable it was too. Whilst there I was chatting to some of the locals and they told me that as Donnybrook is amongst all the "up" postfix towns e.g. Nannup, Mumballup, Yallingup etc they are they are considering changing the town name to Punchup.

With the release of "The Great Gatsby" movie I should point out to all my golfing mates that it is in a minor way a golfing novel. For those who haven't read the book or seen the movie the plot can be condensed to "a sheila meets a rich bloke and a middle class bloke, the middle class bloke ends up dead". The novel's narrator Nick Carraway has a lover Jordan Baker who is a competitive golfer. She is a callow, sardonic, narcissistic, beautiful and unethical sheila who resorted to cheating to win her first golf tournament. If you haven't seen the movie or read the book I hope I haven't spoiled it for you.

My super market shopping technique is to wander aimlessly up and down the aisles hoping that I when see something I need I will put into my shopping basket. There may be better methods but my technique gives me time to ponder issues like why are baked beans not in the canned vegetables section or trying to figure out how the supermarket has run out of Tim Tams. Choosing the correct brand and size or weight to select is also a useful diversion. Should I buy Australian dried apricots and pay more or Turkish dried apricots and pay less, should I choose the 200 gram or 500 gram packet? Its important decisions like these that help me pass the day.

It probably all started on the 10th tee when his drive inexplicably went backwards off the tee. How you can make the ball go backwards with a full blooded swing is one of golf's little mysteries. The par 3, 15th hole made things worse, the ball landed on the green and even though he stroked the hole he failed to score a point. Those of you who occasionally 5 putt know how he was feeling. On the 16th tee he did the sensible thing and tried to hit his drive as hard he could. It didn't go we'll, the ball flew through his legs, landed on a path leading to the club house and was rolling towards the bar door when last seen. He was a shattered man and did what any sane person would have done, he gave up feigning illness as an excuse and headed for the bar hoping to gain some relief through the recuperative powers of alcohol.