Witters from Down Under
Created | Updated Nov 5, 2008
Frenchbean returned to Australia from Scotland in 2005 to see whether she'd fallen in love with the country, or simply with her husband, eight years previously.
The answer lies in the fact that she is still there, living on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, from whence she writes her Witters from Down Under. It is a life of hard work made bearable by sunshine, beach exploits and topless driving.
The Post Team are delighted to be able to publish her regular reflections on Antipodean life.
Off List
Hello Everybody 
We all know about Dangerous Shops (bookshops, The Body Shop etc). Close to Bean Mansions on the Sunshine Coast of Australia are the Eumundi Markets.
When I'm in the right frame of mind, the Markets are a giant Dangerous Shopping Zone.
So it was last Saturday, when glorious warm early-morning sunshine added to my already buoyant mood and I zoom-zoomed topless1 up the Bruce Highway to indulge in some serious shopping.
The Markets house a couple of hundred alfresco stalls, selling everything from local fruit and veg to designer frocks, jewellery, paintings, ceramics, soap, ironing board covers, shopping bags, bird nesting boxes and didgeridoos.
It is a massive tourist attraction and consequently it turns into a scrum after 9 am. The ideal time to arrive is just before 8 o’clock, by which time the stalls are set up, but the pathways are next to empty and the coffee stands don't have queues.
As long as I know what I'm looking for – or who I'm buying for (it is perfect for presents) – I can usually browse a bit, shop a bit and get back to the car before I lose the will to live.
I had a list, which is of course essential when Dangerous Shopping. However, last weekend, having brilliantly found everything that was on my list within half an hour, I still had the urge to browse and shop, so I went 'Off List' and it became Dangerous.
First stop was a coffee stand to provide the caffeine boost required for such adventure. Then I launched myself with an open mind and wide eyes into the rows of retail temptation.
There are a great variety of clothes for sale at the Markets; from posh stuff to what are best described as rags haphazardly sewn together, with a large amount of ethnic clobber between the two extremes.
With a business event mid-week for which I needed to be smart-casual, it was entirely predictable that a frock-stall was going to entice me.
I spent a happy time picking out dresses and wriggling into them in a phone-box-sized fitting space which would have challenged Houdini. Despite the limitations; my enthusiasm was undaunted and I eventually left with a perfect slinky little number.
One of my official Dangerous Shops is Berkelouws Books, over the road from the Markets. I pottered amongst the shelves for 20 minutes and departed extraordinarily unburdened, having only bought two volumes.
To make up for my literary self-control, I headed back to the ceramics stalls to browse bowls. In passing I found a stand selling shoulder wraps; perfect for a cool evening.
And what, you may ask, prompted this morning of hedonistic retail relaxation? It was in celebration of securing a new five week work contract with the State Government.
Hurrah!
My job is to write an action plan to support businesses in the Mary Valley Catchment. The cunning part of the plan will be to write myself into it, so that I'll be the obvious (indeed the only) person to implement it over the next six months, thereby securing a much longer contract.
The boost of receiving new work was very well timed. It was a week during which I was the unwitting (and undeserving) recipient of a rat-a-tat-tat bombardment of thoughtlessness and insensitivity.
I guess everybody's good nature is taken for granted from time to time. However there is a clear line between being nice and being walked on - and this week too much was assumed of my sanguinity and tolerance.
At some point on Tuesday 'somebody somewhere' decided I was Target Practice and in less than 24 hours five different people stepped over the line, with large boots on their feet: some due to professional inexperience, others due to breathtaking self-centred rudeness.
A couple of long walks on the beach and some reassuring conversations with friends, which started with the words "Is it just me, or is this unreasonable?" helped me find my balance; I had definitely wobbled.
Finally I have received many well-wishes for my dear friend Dina, who was diagnosed with a brain tumour recently. She came through her operation successfully and is already home. I spoke to her on the phone yesterday. Well, 'speak' is a bit of an exaggeration. We cried like babies down the line at each other.
Test results come soon and then she and her wonderful family will know what they have to face over the next wee while. Please keep the positive thoughts flowing in the direction of south-west Scotland for her.
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