A fierce gust of wind sends a wave of spray racing across the lake. As it nears the edge the gust turns into an eddy, spinning spray into the air, a willy-willy of water.
The short, sharp gusts of wind disturb my sleep. They have blown away the cloud above, but the air outside is chill and clouds threaten the high slopes. It is not a day to go walking the trails of Mount Kosciuszko.
Instead, B cooks a breakfast of bacon, eggs and beans, then we head out for a walk by Lake Jindabyne, braving the blasts of air, which dissipate after each shot to leave the warmth of the sun.
There are no boats out on the water, not in this weather. Near the end of the walk is a big sculpture of Pawel Edmund Strzelecki, the Polish born explorer and scientist who named Mount Kosciuszko.
We walk up to the shops. Jindabyne is weird for an Australian town. There are no fast food chain eateries, no Chinese or Thai restaurants, just two kebab shops and three Japanese eateries, none of which is open today.
Lots of ski shops though. Alex eyes an expensive working chairlift model. Nothing of interest to us. We buy some more groceries from the supermarket and some tarts from a couple of bakeries, then return to the cabin.
Alex studies, I write my blog, B watches video. The television can’t pick up any single,along the cabin quieter than otherwise.
After a lunch of packet noodles for the other two, we take our tennis rackets and hit balls on the park’s tennis court for an hour. I’m feeling the aches of age and a body tense from driving mountains.
Alex and I take a walk along the lake in the opposite direction, out to a windblown headland. It is beautiful in the afternoon light, but the gusts are stinging us with grit.
On the way back we pass a cyclist being swooped by a magpie that thankfully leaves us alone.
Back at the cabin I’m so tired from the past week that I can’t focus on anything. I always brings books to read, movies to watch, activities to do on these trips but invariably am too exhausted to actually do any of them. I’m not sure I’ve actually had a lazy holiday in a long time.
After a brief afternoon nap, I cook dinner, a Mexicanish dish made using leftovers and a cheap supermarket roast chook. It needs sour cream, which we don’t have.
Shortly before serving, Alex calls me out to see the sunset, or the sun passing behind the mountains, leave cool shadows in its wake.
That is enough of Jindabyne. Tomorrow we head home via Cooma and Canberra, our brief holiday at an end.
