Things looking bleak at home? Fear not, readers. Our wheels broke down the other day, which puts us on the same level as that man in London who got snowed in for 7 days. Richard's conversation with the rental company went something like:
R: 'Hello.'
RC: 'Aa-yagoin'?' (or 'what do you want?')
R: 'Our van is in ruins.'
RC: 'Fair dinkum, mate' ('oh, really?')
R: 'Well?'
Silence.
R: 'I... demand a new vehicle!'
The new one's ticking over nicely for now. We recently made it on to the Barossa Vally for more serious matters. This place, just north-east of Adelaide, is home to such fine wineries as Wolf Blass, Penfolds and Jacob's Creek. I was so busy tasting the Reserve Pinot at one I missed a good wine tour. I turned up just in time for a lively discussion in the atrium, where someone was asking about why the grapes ripen
this way instead of that.
'Because that's the way the cookie crumbles,' a wine buff answered, prompting a tipsy debate on odd sayings and how they came to be.
'There's "the pot calling the kettle black,"' said one person.
'How about "have your cake and eat it"?' said another.
There was a ripple of movement across the room as all those who had been involved in an affair (more or less everyone) suddenly felt compelled to shuffle sideways a little, smooth their hair, itch their little toe and so on. This was followed by 'all's fair in love and war' (more shuffling) and then 'there's no harm in a little white lie' (furious toe-itching).
Why are they 'white' lies, anyway? A good day in all.
Now the harsh South Australian outback lies ahead of us. It doesn't sound like a very hospitable place. A little late to worry now, seeing's we're hooning straight towards it.
