Well, that was bloody wonderful

… And occasionally traumatic … but mainly bloody wonderful …

There were moments during my blogging break that were a bit PUS, but all-in-all it was awesome, bulk fun, all that jazz … or should that be blues?

DD and I flew off to Surfers Paradise for a few days. Not my ideal choice for a weekend away, but we were chasing a band.

Ever since we met, DD has been talking about wanting to go and see The Badloves live. They’re a ’90s band that’s reformed in recent years. Wikipedia describes them as playing “laid-back 1970s-style blues, Memphis soul and New Orleans R&B material.”

We keep missing them in Sydney, so we checked out where they were touring … saw Mermaid Waters and thought Why not?!

Because DD travels so much for work, he has access to the Qantas business class lounge, so he took me there to kick things off with bubbles on Saturday arvo. Then we jetted to the Gold Coast.

The last time I was in Surfers was more than 30 years ago. I didn’t recognise a thing, though a lot of the hotels have their original 70s signs painted on them, which felt weirdly familiar.

DD was in charge of flights and tickets to The Badloves and I was in charge of the hotel. Being a single mum on a budget with an aversion to floral bedspreads and a desire for a water view brought me to Mantra Legends, which turned out to be quite lovely for the price. We spent two very happy nights there.

On Saturday night we grabbed a cab to The Badloves at the Lonestar Tavern. DD went for the “dinner and a show” option so our middle-aged bones could be guaranteed a seat. We walked into an underground room with five tables of 10 overlooking the stage and were directed to two seats on one of them for our chicken and cheesecake dinner.

I’m a little embarrassed to say I freaked out. I get a bit exhausted by being “on” and had decided I wanted to enjoy being “off” for the weekend. I didn’t want to sit making small talk with eight strangers around a table. I wanted to sit making small talk with DD.

So I hissed “I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL!!!!! THIS IS PUS!!!!” at DD.

DD wasn’t thrilled either and offered to take me for a steak at the tavern instead, but I hate waste so I gritted my teeth and headed to the table for my $25 two-course din-dins while he headed to the bar to get me some liquid courage.

A local music identity was having his 50th birthday at the gig and a few of his mates were sitting with us. They all looked like extras from Wayne’s World and drank like fish (the couple beside us were hooking into their third bottle of red when we left), but they were really nice and it didn’t take me long to relax and start enjoying myself. The Badloves were great, DD and I even had a little dance for a few songs.

The next morning, DD got sick of listening to my “wookie” snoring and hauled me out of bed at dawn to watch the sun rise and go for a beach walk. He’s on a health kick. I almost complained before deciding that seeing the sun rise might be quite lovely.

It WAS lovely. And a bacon and egg roll hit the spot nicely afterwards.

Then we hired bikes and did a 25km slog up the coast, including a wee stop at the Palazzo Versace (as you do). I got a little tetchy at Labrador when I wanted to stop for fish and chips by the water but was inveigled to continue peddling to Runaway Bay and offered coffee beside a busy road instead.

DD’s learning that tired, hungry, thirsty Alana isn’t much fun.

So we peddled back to Labrador and I got my fish and chips and a Diet Coke and cheered up immensely. Back in Surfers – four hours later, I have quite the bruised undercarriage – we head to the beach for the most glorious late afternoon swim – the water was DIVINE.

Later, while DD was kicking back on the balcony with a cider, I met an old friend and former colleague in the lobby bar for a frenetic chat and giggle.

Then DD and I wandered through the beachside markets and enjoyed a steak dinner before bed.

DD actually set the alarm the next morning so we could enjoy another sunrise. He was also surprisingly laid back about what I thought was a rather tight schedule to get us to the airport for our flight home. But I left it in his capable hands, since he’d bought the tickets and was such a seasoned traveller.

That turned out to be quite the ooops moment.

We wandered along the beach, ambled into a cafe for some brekkie, ambled back to the hotel so he could have a leisurely shower and iron his shirt … I kept offering to help speed things up but he insisted everything was fine.

Eventually I was so toey that I headed to the lobby to check out. He arrived downstairs 10 minutes later and we jumped in a cab.

It was at that moment he admitted we probably weren’t going to make our flight. FARK!

He’d had a brain snap and thought we needed to leave the hotel at 8am when we really needed to leave at 7.30am.

Let’s not talk about how much it cost to get two new tickets to Sydney …

And that’s the speed-type rundown of my weekend.

I feel sooooooooo very lucky. We had such a brilliant few days.

The real world isn’t quite as much fun, especially since DD gave me a hug and kiss at Sydney Airport and hopped straight onto another flight to Melbourne.

Here are my happy snaps (excuse all the grog shots … it’s for work … I’m rebooting the drinks association’s Instagram page … excuses, excuses …) …

Have you ever missed a flight?

Song of the day: The Badloves “Lost”

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