Bluesfest and beach pipis

So... we went to Byron Bay for the Bluesfest, aka the East Coast Blues and Roots Festival.

Lotta mud. Lotta hippies. Lotta wannabes and shouldabeens and hipsters: also a fair sprinkling of ACTUALLY cool people, like the old dude wearing the shirt that said "OLD GUYS RULE", the Zen Buddha hippies in all-white shrouds watching the ska band, the freaks with pink rooster feathers in their hair and the middle-aged diehards wearing shirts from the original Festival in 1990.

They put down a billion tonnes of cedar chips to soak up the mud and create some sort of dry walking surface. As the chips were trampled and trod, you could smell the sweet cedar mingling with the fairy floss, ginger nectar, bourbon and hot chips. Good times.

Anyway, we also spent a lot of time beachside out at Pottsville, communing with nature. I lay on the beach and contemplated the insignificance of human life. It was healthy.

Karen went for a giant beach walk and came back with a shirtful of pipis. I was all like, "You don't know how to cook THOSE", and she was all like, "Yuh-HUH", and then I was all like, "Fine, let's SEE it, then, smart guy." And she was all, "I'm going to put them in the seafood marinara". And I said, "Huh."

Then she boiled them up in the saucepan and put them in the marinara. They looked great, tasted juicy and sweet. Unfortunately we didn't soak them in the fresh water for long enough, cos they didn't have enough time to hawk up all the sand that was within their flesh. Pretty gritty. Note to self. Soak pipis more.

But I learned that even in this modern interweb age, one can still find and eat something from nature without dying from germs or lack of third-party insurance.