We, the grown ups, were banished from our own house over the weekend. Something about a party which would be totally ruined by us hanging around, stinking the joint up. So we took ourselves off to the northern NSW for a weekend on a farm just outside of Billinudgel.
It was a very pleasant couple of days, even though I was full of stitches from a skin cancer excision on Friday.
The accomodation was interesting. Purpose built on the site of this old farm that looked like it was transitioning to an AirBNB business. There were a couple of cabins, and we took the bigger one, which was fashioned from an old shed and a shipping container. It was plenty comfy and I got to play with fire (in the cast iron fireplace), which is one my favourite things to do.
Saturday we mostly tooled around the district, calling in at Bangalow and Federal, but skipping Byron because it pretty much sucks dogs balls now. We had dinner in Brunswick Heads at this very cool Mexican place called La Casita. Driving past during the day, honestly, it looks like a dump, but when the night fell and the margaritas started flowing, it was awesome. The pics below are from the website, and they don’t lie. The food is fantastic. I suspect the atmos would be best on a hot summer’s night instead of the cold, damp autumnal eve we spent there.
The next morning I had a strange encounter in Mullumbimby, where I bought a copy of The Saturday Paper to enjoy some more post election schadenfreude. As I was lined up to buy it I saw the woman beside had a copy too.
“This is my favorite now,” I said.
“Mine too,” she beamed. It was like a secret club.
“And I’m gonna wallow in it today,” I added.
She knew exactly what I meant.
A pleasant, passing encounter. Then when I caught up with Jane and asked if she’d found anywhere that looked good for breakfast, she said could go one better. She’d spotted Kerry O’Brien—late of the ABC—heading purposefully off the main drag. He’ll know where to get a good coffee, she said.
So we hurried to follow him.
Of course the woman I’d spoken to in the newsagent was with him. So I had to stalk her and Kezza into their favourite Mullum’ cafe.
Good coffee though. Those latte sipping ABC types know how to get it.
Mullumbimby was different from the last time I’d been there too. Less creepy, to be honest. It had a dark, stoner vibe to it when I’d previously been through. It was recovering from the floods this time, and from appearances, recovering well.
One could be experiencing an almighty heatwave and would still um...fire up a fireplace just because it's there.
Excellent weekend by all accounts.
Run a wood burner? I'm in. But it has to be -15C.