Sun, Sea and Stein

Jervis Bay is a lovely area – a weekend getaway for Sydney and Canberra professionals plus a place to live for those who never went home. There is even rumoured to be a Rick Stein restaurant just up the coast.

What better way to spend your Sunday than swimming or sailing at the beach in the morning then down to the seaside bar in the afternoon for a glass or two of white wine. Sally and I tried the former, venturing out in our kayaks, and later, in search of an ATM and internet connection, we drifted down to the local resort.

My expectations were that everywhere would be closed. But far from it. The place was buzzing at 4pm. We chose a café with live music outside and took our Perrier and ginger beer to a table on the street. I had contemplated a beer or wine but none seemed on offer. Looking around at the many full glasses around us it was clear that the locals knew of an illicit supply or, at least, how to ask. And it appeared that the supply had been sourced for quite a while.

The band duo was excellent, playing Van Morrison sort of blues. I especially love it when a near perfect rendition of ‘Georgia on my Mind’ returns to an Australian accent to introduce the next song.

The music was just right to encourage some to start dancing on the pavement. Sally and I did that English thing of waiting for just the right tune, one that we knew and would feel comfortable dancing to. A lady nearby even encouraged Sally to take the plunge but still the right tune did not come.

We marvelled at the laid-back nature of Australians smoozing away in front of us and the determination of several ladies as they counted the steps of their line dancing routine. Dress attire was also uninhibited with “Goth meets Hells Angel in a full length skirt” being a memorable example but at least he got up and danced.

For, sorry to say, we did not join in and for that I blame the ginger beer and Perrier. I also realised that these people had been nowhere near a sailing boat or kayak that morning. They had saved all their energy for this.

Later, in the evening, we returned to another bar with live music - this time sort of Jess Stone does country, with excessive amplification - only to find that the same crew (wrong word) had moved on there. So why don’t we find such venues and laid-back behaviour in Felixstowe or Margate? Maybe I should be looking in St Ives, Cornwall instead. Perhaps proximity to Rick Stein is the key.