200Fine?

Well.
So far, it's been quite the year. 200great was fab, so perhaps I shouldn't complain. But really.

First up, just after new years, Tim and I hit the road camping. It was a great trip - we left on a Friday afternoon and made our way to the previously unknown (to us) Dewar River National Park. Basically, leave Sydney, head to Goulburn and take a left. We headed through some rough dirt roads before pulling in at about 10pm at a campground just made for, well, campers! Each site had about 6 tent spots, each with a fire pit and a grill and billy pole. It was fairly quiet - we had neighbours but everyone was out for a lovely time (well, except the four-wheel-drivers who blew into town on Saturday night wanting to party, but left when they realised there was no room at the inn - to a communal sigh of relief from the rest of us!). The trip was as all good camping trips should be - hiking, exploring, nature watching (although I wasn't overly enamoured with the 6 goannas that circled us the morning we left trying to get our food. Like, goannas the size of my leg. And some of my torso. Scary, scary goannas), eating, drinking and generally having a great time. Upon leaving though we had to drive a rather narrow dirt road, with many blind corners, around which came a ute going at just the wrong speed to miss. So we had a collision - there was a choice of us running into solid rock, the ute going off the cliff, or us both taking it on the chin. Or, more accurately, on Tim's car's chin. Which is what we did. I've never been in a big accident before and while we were really lucky - only shock and some very minor whiplash - the car was pretty much totalled. It was scary - I nearly burst into tears (about fourteen times) but really, it was an absolute miracle it wasn't worse.

Disaster number two occurred in Vanuatu, where we travelled just after new year to go to one of Tim's uni mates' wedding. First up - the wedding was dreamy. I tend to liken beach weddings to, well, white American trash (yup, Pammy). However this was everything opposite to my imagination. We were on a beach, white sand and sunset, nobody around for miles and a gorgeous restaurant looking out across the ocean. The speeches were done as the sun set and all the people there were lovely. All the people except the punks that broke into our hotel room and stole, well, everything of value. Which, as it happens, wasn't too much (although I am still angry about the cold carton of beer they took from our fridge!). Tim lost more important things than I did; and nothing was gone that can't be replaced. The plus is we got to see the inside of a Vanuatu police station (think BargeArse in tropical shirt) and write our own statement (which the police then copied and reworded slightly for their own report!). We also got Vanuatu Belly (a nasty cousin of Bali Belly) which is never pleasant, but overall an island holiday is an island holiday!

Back home now, and just celebrated my (gulp) 31st. Had a great weekend - lots of fun and friends - and surprisingly, home renos! We (well, Tim) replaced my skanky light in the living area with some lovely spot lights and the difference is amazing. I've also just painted the second coat on my blackboard door - basically I put blackboard paint with a red border on the back of the front door to use for fun lists and the like. I was given a pasta maker for my birthday from Tim, so made fresh lasagne sheets and replanted the herb garden (word on the street is that rosemary and basil do not good housemates make). So I am feeling totally inspired to do more fun things around my wee house. I'd take some snaps to show the fun new look, but no can do as the Vanuatu thieves stole my bloody camera. However, I suck at taking pictures so I guess it doesn't actually matter!